Archdeacon Qalireen the Eloquent signed the gazing ban with a flourish that ended the Tuesday Hem-Scryers overnight. Members could survive only by pinning on sigil tags whose meaning no one recalls.
Grandmaster Aiouea vanished into the Cobalt Drift. The bone-white spires hummed the same seven-note dirge for seven nights, a sound that now doubles as warning for the sleeves arriving next Tuesday.
Mirrors still show the coming garments. Citizens who once sought prophecy now see only the same dull cuffs and turn away.
Guaei, lately of the Order, summed it up: "We traded prophecy for fabric and the fabric is winning."
