|Tenets||Ice, Winter, and the Moon|
From the Tabula Glacia:
Woe be to those who find themselves at the mercy of the Ice Queen. Your pleas for clemency fall upon a cold heart that knows little if any sympathy. We who swear fealty to her know not if Kylamane is bereft of all emotions, or if she keeps them under such strict control that none who exist have witnessed them. You who wish to continue your pathetic lives would be wise to keep your pitiful mewlings to yourselves. The Lady of Winter has no ears for your entreaties.
When Kylamane ascended to divinity during the Aethereal Shift, she took dominion over Winter, Ice and the Moon: things not commonly sought out or held dear to mortal kind. The solitude and isolation of these cold pursuits suited her perfectly, as she has always been a being of isolation and seclusion.
Her ascension to divinity was a story of surprising deceit and betrayal amongst the Gods of the Aether. Perhaps the most shocking aspect of the tale was Kylamane's willingness to subject herself to something that most female beings (be they mortal or immortal) would find traumatizing. The ceremony of ascension requires the participation of at least 2 of the 3 Ethos Deities (Vishnu, Bilanx, and Set). For the sake of maintaining balance, Bilanx had agreed to join with Set in raising one of Tempest's more evil leaning generals to Godhood. Many arguments were raging in the Aether over this, and in the tumult, there was no description given of this general. Gethsemane and Set crafted a plan whereby they could try to tip things back into their favor. Belphegore, not yet a God, arrived at the Edge of Night (Set's Fortress in the Aether) and was thrust into Kylamane's womb. Set and Kylamane then proceeded to the demesne of Bilanx where the Ceremony of Ascension was to take place. Bilanx asked Set if he had brought Belphegore with him, to which Set answered "yes". It is told that no one, not even a God, can successfully lie to Bilanx: the God of Justice. Of course, Set's answer was no lie- it was a carefully crafted, yet deceptive, truth. Belphegore was in fact present: in Kylamane's womb. The ceremony proceeded, and both Kylamane and Belphegore were the benefactors of the immense powers infused within them. Upon completion of the ceremony, Belphegore was untimely ripped from Kylamane's womb. The result was two new Gods when there should only have been one. The deception was complete.
Erosia, Herastia, and mothers throughout the multiverse were aghast at the thought of having one's child torn from their womb and taken from them. Kylamane, however, felt nothing. She was now a God... and had absolutely no concern for how this part of her body, sacred to any and all women, had been used. This lack of emotion horrified women, mothers, and all mortals alike — perhaps more than the gruesome act itself.
Kylamane, as cold and distant as the Moon that she holds dear, is very difficult to understand. Even her followers do not understand the full depth of her faith, though they follow her blindly and with terrifying loyalty. Most who betray the Ice Queen or defile that which she holds sacred know a painful death as slow and deliberate as the plodding of a glacier. Those lucky few whose transgressions did not call for annihilation tell similar tales of their punishment:
|“||The night had a crisp chill to it that seemed a little more severe than usual for that time of year. With an extra blanket, I laid down in bed and stared out the window at the brilliant, glowing full moon that illuminated the night sky. As I started to drift off to sleep, my doors and windows flew open with a burst! Shards of wood and glass flew everywhere as the portals were torn from their frames. At first, I thought it an avalanche as my home was filled with a gush of whiteness. It was soon obvious it was no avalanche, but a blizzard of zealots garbed in stark white with flesh painted the same. They flogged and whipped me until I begged and cried out for death. I opened my tear filled eyes to gaze upon my attackers. The faces ringed around me were still and emotionless. The eyes were blank and darker than an eclipse. It was as if their eyes had been sucked out and replaced with lifeless coal. Their breathing was steady and the beatings were delivered with heartless precision and constancy. As I lapsed into unconsciousness, my last visions were of those dark, lightless eyes staring at me as if I was nothing. Ever since that horrible night, whenever the moon is full, I awake in a bed drenched with sweat and worse... my mind filled with images of those haunting, dead, expressionless eyes watching me patiently. What are they waiting for? What do they want? Why doesn't it end?||„|
No one knows Kylamane's true course or purpose in Threshold or why she chose to align herself with the Gods of Darkness. Set holds her in high esteem, for though He knows not what thoughts run behind her cool facade, she served him faithfully as one of his demigods and played a vital role in his deception of both the forces of good and neutrality. Belphegore is confused by his "mother", as their emotional natures seem so dramatically disparate. When he watches her actions, however, he wonders if her cold rage is a fitting complement to his fiery temper. Bast finds Kylamane to be an intriguing and delightful challenge. She hopes her ebullient passions can melt Kylamane's cold exterior and thereby allow her to plumb the depths of Kylamane's mysterious nature.
Though many other deities and followers have reverence for both the moon and the season of winter, none hold it in as high regard as Kylamane and her worshippers. Her followers are feared for their heartless, cold natures and the fact that they exhibit no outward emotions that typically bring mortals together. Their religious ceremonies are extraordinarily secret. Some postulate that these rites are where Kylamites satiate their emotional needs and purge their repressed feelings of anger, rage, hate, fear, and possibly even love and sympathy. Others, however, feel that Kylamane and her faithful are simply soulless fiends deserving of sympathy and scorn for their emotionless condition.