Withering Memory

According to several scholars in the Sibid Court, at the last full-moon many recieved a vision of a spiderweb suspended between two dreams. One was of rage, the other nameless loss.
This sign certainly indicates the evidence of what many have feared: that The Land is being forgotten.

A certain scholar, having laboured this past week between the rising and the setting of the moon, conversing on occasion with the others of the Sibid Court~though they dwell in the hollows of the night, and Ullor Court rules the day, they are not as some suggest, "creatures of darkness," but even so love the beauty of the evening sky~discovered that the startling rouge of a small child's first glimpse of sunset, which he had been intending to dissect, had vanished.
It had been placed in a container of starlight, as is done, but upon the next evening, the starlight held nothing but a salt rime like dried tears.
Given the well-known preservative nature of woven starlight, this event has produced tremors in the Sibid Court and one must assume, despite their deep-seated omphaloskepsis,the Ullor Court as well, indicating an essential instability in the very fabric of The Land. Certain other signs, an arrangement of false stars in the shape of an empty cup, the Great Yew being late to flower, and other such occurrences have given rise to a certainty in the minds of many that the Unweaving, long feared, often ridiculed, may now be coming about. Although it many consider it unthinkable and indeed anathema, it is the opinion of some that the only solution left may be to breach the First Contract.
It seems possible that the world of Man has ceased to remember the People, whether by story, or by heart, and with it, the People themselves may fade. It is imperative that all scholars, be they of either Court, take action by further study.