The following document refers to the work of Shiloh A. Wrun. Whilst all possible precautions to prevent unnecessary suffering have been taken, readers should exercise caution and restrict the reading of textual excerpts to a minimum.
Wrun, having demonstrated proficiency across a variety of written mediums, avoided non-fictional writing for the majority of his career.1 Even His Temple of Walls, ostensibly a commentary on Rulangian society, is framed through a fictional protagonist and set within the quasifictional prison city of Sha'Leigh.
In "Two Lovers, Underwater", Wrun deviates from his traditional style both by depicting a real-life event and writing in a far more structured and stylised form. Set across nineteen three-line stanzas and a single solitary line,2 "Two Lovers, Underwater" concerns the relationship between two individuals located in twentieth century London: art patron Peter Watson (1908-1956) and his paramour Norman Fowler (1927-1971).3 Despite Watson's connections to Francis Bacon, one of history's most prominent anartists, no evidence has been found to link him or Fowler to the magical, the effervescent, or even the slightest non-mundane element of reality. How Wrun discovered their story, and why he chose it as a subject, remains a mystery.
In 1956, Watson was found dead, having drowned in his bathtub. Many contemporaries at the time postulated that Fowler was responsible for this — he admitted they argued on the evening of Watson's death and was the sole benefactor of a sizeable estate. As is the way in many human affairs, the events of that night remain a mystery, and the Library's ectoplagraphers and mediums have been unable to contact either party's spirit for answers.4 What is known is that, upon receiving the inheritance, Fowler relocated to West Indies and himself drowned to death in a bathtub, 15 years after Watson's passing.
Wrun's reimagining is centred around these drownings, with stanzas one through eleven concerning the deliberate murder of Watson by Fowler. Stanzas twelve through nineteen tell of Fowler's drowning by a vengeful spectre of Watson. The piece opens and closes with the two lovers together in a bath, implying a cyclical nature to the story — a trademark element of Wrun's work.5 This cyclical nature is reinforced by a muddying of identity. The perspective the piece is told from, Watson's or Fowler's, switches interchangeably between lines, and is sometimes left ambiguous:
This is where you first had him
This is where he first had you
The single line, located between the seventh and eighth stanzas, encapsulates the piece's main themes: love, a comingling of entity, and the element of water. The line also is the only text with formatting, being emboldened. This has led us to theorise the line is the thaumaturgical nexus of the work. Thusly, we will not reproduce it here.
By now, the fundamentals of Wrun's works should be known to the Court. Words have power. Each word is a compression of myriad ideas and energies into a single decipherable form. It is this energy which has been manipulated and drawn upon in the most vile manners. In effort to undo what has been done, an analysis of "Two Lovers, Underwater" is underway. Preliminary thoughts follow.
As aforementioned, the narrative takes on a cyclical format, ending as it begun. Efforts to break this cycle have so far been fruitless, and only enhanced the torment of the entities trapped within. Consideration has been given to the role elemental hexing could play within the construction of the piece. Water, one of the core quadrants of elemental magicks, plays a prominent role throughout. Whilst used in an overtly destructive manner in the text itself, it is hypothesised water's association with healing, rebirth, and life has been drawn upon by Wrun to compound the piece's cyclical nature. Attempts by hydrophosists to commune with this element of the text have met too with failure. Several have reported the following line appearing in dreams for several weeks after the initial reading:
The water burns in your throat forever
In an effort to decipher the fictitious from the real — to the extent such a task is possible — attempts to establish contact with the spirits of Watson and Fowler were made. No response was received. Whilst this is not uncommon in the practice of mediumship, a failure to respond to repeated attempts made by a multitude of entities is unusual.
"Two Lovers, Underwater" was written by Wrun early in his career, a brief and fleeting experiment with non-fictional subjects. Such an experiment was not repeated again. Oft repeated through this process are the quotes from Wrun's memoirs in which he equates creating worlds through writing to divinity. Whilst the traditional explanation is that a lack of control — total control — is why non-fiction was not something he returned to, yet another interpretation has emerged.
Through writing these fictional interpretations of Watson and Fowler, is it possible that something non-fictional, something very real was entrapped within the process? By attempting to fabricate these individuals within one of his worlds, did Wrun ensnare an element of their souls? The lack of response from their spirits would therefore not be due to an unwillingness to communicate, but a lack of ability.
It is far more difficult to maintain control over a living soul than an entity purely born from your mind. Were these two lovers to rebel against Wrun, or attempt to, and deny the power he sought from them — would he ever attempt such an experiment again?
The boundary between fictitious and real is hazy and blurred on the clearest of days. If it is possible that Wrun's inflicted suffering has transgressed both worlds, this requires our efforts be redoubled to assist those trapped within his constructs.