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Memories are fleeting, flawed, and fragile. So easily overwritten by emotion and prejudice. I cannot think of a more unregulated recording of events, which is why I commit my thoughts into the unchanging metal of my sequence plaques. But even the most objective view can still hold bias, and words can only convey so much. The engravings on this plaque pale to the complexity of a simple human thought, with all the nuances and richness that even a common mind can hold.
Lord Seht knows this. After all, his heart drives the Wheels Eternal, oiled and calibrated. This we know. To become that which is the only true name, which is not Name, one's mind must be polished. Synchronized. How to accomplish such a task? Even a god may become overburdened with the weight of emotions, fractured from the whole which is logic.
But in this too the Clockwork God was wise. He gave his memories form, manifestation. Glowing stars to make up the galaxy of his thoughts. Tangible and real, far more real than ink upon parchment, than words or whispers. Whole and perfect, and only able to be so from the strength of his divinity, his gleaming and peerless mind which holds the true order of all.
Memories are flawed, yes, but they are precious all the same. They hold our wisdom and knowledge, all that which we are. To give them away would be squandering that gift, and this too Lord Seht knew. So he preserved these precious thoughts, locked safely with his Mnemonic Planisphere. Watched over by the ever-silent Astronomer. A multitude of stars which no longer held emotional sway over him, no, but still remained connected, known.
It's quiet in the Planisphere, but one hears whispers. A low hum of voices seem to echo within the halls. Those figures of the past, lost but not forgotten, come to light once more.