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Description
The contents of the T'torlan are difficult to describe. There's a preface that runs like a narrative, telling the story of a long-ago war on a long-ago world, and about six heroes "blessed by Bahamut" to end the conflict--basic fairy-tale stuff. After that, it breaks down into a not-too-coherent catalogue of swirling script and bizarre inkblot illustrations. Some pages are no more than lists, and others are filled with pictographs so intricately arranged that it baffles the sight--more than once I had to take off my glasses and scrub my eyes to clear out the spots.

What was truly disconcerting about the book, however, was the very thing that intrigued Magus: its 'translation.' The handwriting was sloppy and juvenile, yet remarkably erudite. There were footnotes, parenthetical asides and complementary sketches. The tone of the entire work was educated yet informal, not like other written works of the medieval period (I even encountered the phrase, "bump on a log," which my mother liked to use all the time.)

One page jumped out at me: an elaborate rendering of an alien creature, its quill-like projections filling the corners and framing the 'eye' like a toothy mane. The smooth, graceful lines and symmetry would have made it a gorgeous drawing if I didn't recognize the subject in a heart-stopping blink. All I could do was stare, transfixed by the heinous visage. Then the fact of what I was looking at struck me--Magus owned this book. Magus used this book. Magus used this book to write spells, to invoke spirits, and to summon...

"Lavos..." I breathed, fingering the edge of the paper as if the ink were caustic. When I finally got the nerve to flip the page, I saw that the translator had a field day with that one, etching across the entire sheet in bastardized calligraphy:

SpaWn of DarKnEss
DEvourEr of StaRs
DraGonKin OmEga

And then, tiny, at the bottom: (Replicate of Jorumgand. Can harvest life to reproduce? Parasitic breeding not intended in original design.)

Lavos--a replicate? Designed intentionally? I sat still and pondered that for a long time, reeling under the possibilities. We all knew that Lavos came from outside our world, but there was never any speculation over where or how the monster originated. The answer seemed as unapproachable as the origin of life itself. However, if there was a sentience behind its design, what could that mean? What kind of entity would create such a thing, and to what purpose?

And how would the translator know about it...?

~ The Diary of Doctor LEA

---

Behold, a... book! Most boring thing I've drawn ever, I know.

The T'torlan is the sacred text of the espers. It's written in Tri-Xi, the ancient dragon language, and it describes the world where dragons were born as well as the nature of magic in the universe. For the cover's design I wanted to use a circle divided into four segments to represent the unity of the four major elements of magic, and a dragon reminiscent of the Ouroboros, a known symbol for infinity or an endless cycle--but not quite. The dragon here just misses biting its own tail, indicating that, no matter how long it lasts, not even Bahamut's kingdom can be eternal.

Of course, symbolism is no fun when the author fuggin' explains it all, good job, me.

Chrono Trigger, Final Fantasy (c) Square

Description
The contents of the T'torlan are difficult to describe. There's a preface that runs like a narrative, telling the story of a long-ago war on a long-ago world, and about six heroes "blessed by Bahamut" to end the conflict--basic fairy-tale stuff. After that, it breaks down into a not-too-coherent catalogue of swirling script and bizarre inkblot illustrations. Some pages are no more than lists, and others are filled with pictographs so intricately arranged that it baffles the sight--more than once I had to take off my glasses and scrub my eyes to clear out the spots.

What was truly disconcerting about the book, however, was the very thing that intrigued Magus: its 'translation.' The handwriting was sloppy and juvenile, yet remarkably erudite. There were footnotes, parenthetical asides and complementary sketches. The tone of the entire work was educated yet informal, not like other written works of the medieval period (I even encountered the phrase, "bump on a log," which my mother liked to use all the time.)

One page jumped out at me: an elaborate rendering of an alien creature, its quill-like projections filling the corners and framing the 'eye' like a toothy mane. The smooth, graceful lines and symmetry would have made it a gorgeous drawing if I didn't recognize the subject in a heart-stopping blink. All I could do was stare, transfixed by the heinous visage. Then the fact of what I was looking at struck me--Magus owned this book. Magus used this book. Magus used this book to write spells, to invoke spirits, and to summon...

"Lavos..." I breathed, fingering the edge of the paper as if the ink were caustic. When I finally got the nerve to flip the page, I saw that the translator had a field day with that one, etching across the entire sheet in bastardized calligraphy:

SpaWn of DarKnEss
DEvourEr of StaRs
DraGonKin OmEga

And then, tiny, at the bottom: (Replicate of Jorumgand. Can harvest life to reproduce? Parasitic breeding not intended in original design.)

Lavos--a replicate? Designed intentionally? I sat still and pondered that for a long time, reeling under the possibilities. We all knew that Lavos came from outside our world, but there was never any speculation over where or how the monster originated. The answer seemed as unapproachable as the origin of life itself. However, if there was a sentience behind its design, what could that mean? What kind of entity would create such a thing, and to what purpose?

And how would the translator know about it...?

~ The Diary of Doctor LEA

---

Behold, a... book! Most boring thing I've drawn ever, I know.

The T'torlan is the sacred text of the espers. It's written in Tri-Xi, the ancient dragon language, and it describes the world where dragons were born as well as the nature of magic in the universe. For the cover's design I wanted to use a circle divided into four segments to represent the unity of the four major elements of magic, and a dragon reminiscent of the Ouroboros, a known symbol for infinity or an endless cycle--but not quite. The dragon here just misses biting its own tail, indicating that, no matter how long it lasts, not even Bahamut's kingdom can be eternal.

Of course, symbolism is no fun when the author fuggin' explains it all, good job, me.

Chrono Trigger, Final Fantasy (c) Square