Memory Fragments: Probity

Ramil Flamefeet Savion

A new, crystal house has been built amidst the sands of the grand desert
By magic and prophecy, it shall reflect the inner-most yearnings of the heart
By the flames of Ramil Savion, you shall walk inside it and be unhurt
Let your feet burn the steps you take. Inside your heart, there lies your counterpart

Walk by Ramil's flame and see the reflections of your actions as you take this path
Lost as you are in this fake oasis, there lies a hidden house, invisible yet true to you
Cloak your soul. To prevent erosion, find it a mercy to give your heart a sand bath
Walk, cloaked in red sand, the dry shores and await the house to come into view

Covered in your own, dried-up blood, how does it feel to see the red sand?
It burns like fire. Each step, in burns. Memory lane does too, the heart, hurt
But, by Ramil's flame, you shall keep walking. With blood and will hand-in-hand
Though sandstorms may hinder sight, may your introspective gaze do not avert

By the prophet and arcanist Ramil Flamefeet Savion, may faith burn your soles too
On holy grounds you shall not enter until there is no trace of your earthly footprints
Cleanse your memory. Clean the dirt off your house. May the path be walked anew
That was not your house. Just a shack. May you find what your ruby house hints

Keep walking, keep beating. The scarlet glow of the sand keeps you straight
Keep burning, keep looking. Ramil's flame keeps the path straight
Keep bathing, keep covering. May your heart never oxidate
The red rust is not your blood. The dried-up blood shall keep you from ferrate

What are you when walking in this desert? What does the sand show you?
By Ramil's prophecy, a robot shall walk his deserted heart and find its memories
By Ramil's flame, a robot shall burn its steps into a journey of what science knew
By Ramil's research, a robot walks among us for the first time in centuries

By magic, by prophecy, and by the lenses of science, the desert's illusions are no more
By the process of walking in circles, an artificial intelligence finds itself burning it progress
Into sand-disks. Into its memory. It learns by walking the paths of its neural core
It walks endlessly. It burns endlessly. Wandering from the lab to its house, no less

Does Ramil know what he has done? Using himself as the database for the robot
They walk every day from here to their house; to that lonely house of errors
Yet, even the tiniest spark of flame they produce, its reflected like a fire most hot
Building your own wife... what burning love they must have in that house of smoke-and-mirrors