Thaishee'ojhinis

Society

It is the Coven's archive of holes. That is a working office rather than a curiosity, because the whole economy of this court runs on absences. The admittance price is memory, taken by preference out of the middle of a life, and a visitor who pays a year does not learn which year until they reach for it later and find nothing there. All of that has to be filed somewhere.

When the Queen wants to know what somebody has failed to notice, she asks Thaishee'ojhinis, and the ribs open, and the answer bleeds out of its eyes and burns a mark into the floor that stays.

Body

The ribs are dilapidated in the way everything in this class is dilapidated: not decaying but being strained, since the Caelyrean is a filter whose business is keeping this material out and a Remoulded standing in the world is a thing the filter never stops working on. The rot goes on forever and finishes never.

The aura is the same substance as the rest of it, put out rather than held in, which is why it sizzles where it lands and why the marks on the floor do not wash off. Its side of the chamber is layered with generations of answers and is legible to nobody.

Regard

Mortal scholars who have heard the title assume a domain of foolishness and treat the office as the least of the six. The dens do not make that mistake. A court whose members cannot smell when a thing happened, and whose contracts are therefore obsessively explicit about the order of events, needs somebody whose whole business is the record of what has gone missing.