Reference:Catherine, personal journal (Riven (2024))

Catherine, personal journal (Riven (2024))

Location	Tay, player satchel
Author	Catherine

I write quickly from my prison... Along with this journal, I've instructed Nelah to return the book that the Moiety intercepted upon your arrival. After questioning her, I've concluded that it was written by Atrus for a very specific purpose: Gehn will wish to use it—though he will undoubtedly be suspicious.

Once he is out of the way, you'll still need the combination to release me; I'm told he keeps it somewhere in his outpost on 233.
Then I assume we're to signal Atrus... I think I know how it might be done, but don't attempt it before I'm released!

― Catherine

It's been one week since I linked to Riven, and I'm still reeling from the changes I've witnessed. Even before my eyes could adjust, the smell of my homeland embraced me. The sweet salt air was instantly familiar—but the scene that soon resolved was not. As I stood there, struggling to make sense of what I was seeing, a violent clang sounded and bars appeared before me. It was then that I must have been darted, for my memory after is cloudy...
A Rivenese man, shabbily dressed in militaristic attire, was shouting something at me. He seemed to be attempting to speak D'ni, but his grasp of the language was so poor that I could not make out his words. And then the world went black.

Many voices passed... until at last I awoke, to a familiar face—Eti! After all this time, she's still as warm and kind as ever. And yet the years have already wounded her—as they've wounded everyone whose world became a prison when Gehn was trapped here. Everything is tinged with pain and loss—even Eti's bright smile, though she does hes best to hide it. A desperate urgency, squelched by unuttered fears, seethes beneath her cordial veneer.
When Atrus & I left Gehn here, all those years ago, I was haunted by visions of what had become of my people, and how they might have come to suffer under his rule. But the injustices I imagined were nothing compared to the atrocities that have actually come to pass.
The following is a chronicle of what I have learned—a record of all that has happened... should I no longer be here to tell it.

The Moiety ―

It seems the confrontation that led to Gehn's entrapment on Riven was witnessed by some of the Rivenese. But their interpretation of the event was skewed—no doubt due to Gehn's over-inflated view of himself. Atrus and I had hoped that stripping him of his ability to link to other worlds might lead people to conclude that his claims of godhood were false. But it appear the opposite has come to pass.
If Gehn was a god, and we had vanquished him—then we must be greater gods. It was thus assumed that my absence was only temporary, and that I would surely return one day to set the world right again.
Thus, the "Moiety" (the name they adopted after Gehn's disparaging use of the term) were born: sworn enemies of Gehn, and devotees of... me.
I had no inkling of this misconception about myself until two days ago—though in hindsight it makes perfect sense, given the way I've been treated.
For their part, they naturally assumed an omniscient deity might be well aware of their own divine status, so there was no need to inform me. I only finally pieced it together during a recent underground gathering, where they reenacted their version of the story of my life; a riveting tale that culminated with the confrontation between Atrus, myself and Gehn at the edge of the fissure. The events had been exaggerated to such grandiose proportions that I found it hard, at times, to suppress my laughter; and yet, this myth has also given them the courage to stand against Gehn—and the hope that they might someday be delivered from the relentless inhumanities of his authoritarian rule.
Even so, the fact that I am the one who has been cast as their god savior—an omnipotent being, who would one day return to Riven, overthrow Gehn, and lead them to a new paradise—is deeply unsettling. I would do anything to free my people from this hellish existence, but I am not who they think I am. I'm only How, though, can I dissuade them from this notion without also crushing their hopes?

As Gehn's power grew, so did the Moiety. And in order to evade his persecution—for he would wipe them all out in an instant, if he could—they had to become more and more adept at concealing themselves. They make use of a network of caves, that so far he has failed to discover. But I fear its [sic] only a matter of time before they're found out.

[Illustration: Secret entrance to the Moiety linking room]

Further jeopardizing their existence, is the fact the Moiety absolutely refuse to sever their ties with those who have sided with Gehn. The two factions thus live together in surprising harmony, their overarching sense of cultural unity appearing to outweigh the schism—at least for now.

―――

I heard today that Father and Enant were inducted into Gehn's labor force. I so long to see them—but a dimness shrouded Eti's face so abruptly when I asked of them that it left me hesitant to press the matter further. I must know the truth eventually, but I fear the news will not be good.

―――

From the moment of their inception, the Moiety have sought to disrupt Gehn's plans at every turn: sabotaging his constructions, stealing from his precious stockpiles, and keeping an ever-watchful eye on his every move. They shroud themselves with dark covering, and delight in the fact that their enemies are often frightened by their wraith-like appearance, and their almost preternatural ability to wreak havoc without detection or consequence.
It was in the course of one of these forays, that I was fortuitously rescued when I first linked to Riven: I shudder to think what might've become of me had that scout not been there to intervene.
Gehn will certainly be hunting for me now—no doubt furious at his guard's failure to detain me. He must be even angrier, though, at the loss of the linking book he surely assumes I brought with me. That I was deceived into linking into Riven without a way back, is a bitter yet fortunate fact—for it may well have meant the death of us all had a path back to D'ni fallen into his destructive hands. When he finally discovers that I came here empty-handed, he'll be angrier still...
That is some consolation, at least.

―――

I have glimpsed the final breath of a dying age.

A tiny blade cuts the void
The white whole divided
Again and again...
Dipped in black,
The nib drips red—
The Art of genocide.

Today I ventured above ground to see for myself what has become of the island. I hoped it wouldn't be as bad as the Moiety had reported—it was worse. Having lived with it for so long, the Rivenese have become inured to the steady decay around them. But I was devastated.
As we wound our way through the underbrush, I found myself once again breathing in my youth, the ocean air transporting me back in a matter of seconds. But as my eyes again took hold, the warmth of those memories vanished, and I was left with nothing but numbness. We had reached a bluff—a bluff that had not been there the last time I visited my home.
Riven, which was once one island, has split into five distinct pieces that have since drifted apart at an astonishing rate. Four of these have been claimed by Gehn as his exclusive domain. Only those who have sworn their loyalty to him are ever allowed access to them. From my vantage point at the edge of the trees, I could see three of them, now blighted with Gehn's monomaniacal constructions. These islands are closely guarded, and pose great personal risk to the Moiety. Though that hasn't kept them from doing whatever they can to thwart Gehn's endeavors there.

[Illustration: Four Island and connections between them]

The fourth island I could not see, as it has crept away to some distance and now lies concealed by fog. The Moiety said that Gehn originally governed from this small island, living and working in a protected space he built for himself atop the stump that remains where the Great Tree used to stand.
The only surviving forest is located here, on the largest island—where the village also remains. This island was ostensibly intended to be the province of the people—but it, too, has been irrevocably marred by Gehn's oppressive intrusions. Gehn can rot in

―――

Words fall...
Brittle brown leaves—
Masquerading as green—
Should never have held
Lives both bloomed
And as yet un-seeded.

I feel nothing today

I am an outcast among outcasts—the diaspora of a dying world. Despite my repeated protestations, the Moiety continue to treat me differently, their desperate need precluding any dissuasion from the belief that I am some sort of messiah, come to save them. They misconstrue my every move as a validation of their faith; whispering of how I walked the island, bold and unafraid—mistaking my outrage at the island's devastation for bravery.
But I am afraid, for I know something that the Moiety do not—the underlying reason for the island's accelerated decay:
Gehn wrote this world, and so it will fail—as all of Gehn's ages ultimately fail.
I must make the Moiety understand this. But I cannot talk to Eti. There were brief moments, soon after my arrival, when my divine status was forgotten and I was simply Katran again—but they are almost nonexistant now.
There is one person, however, who seems immune to these fallacious notions—Nelah. Her gaze has never faltered whenever I've dared hint at the uncomfortable truth. I feel I could trust her to bear the full brunt of it.

[Illustration: Sketches of Moiety and Gehn's symbols]