Normally I am more of a fanon/fanfiction account here, but I think I have genuinely discovered something that was hidden away in Fallen London since May 13, 2010, that only now in this very year of 2026 is being brought out and explained fully. This lore analysis will be will contain extensive and unmarked spoilers for and from the main story lines Firmament and Seeking Mr Eaten's Name, the Exceptional Stories The Green King and The Fair Unknown, and Ambition The Uttermost East from Sunless Seas.
First we need to establish our players and their echoes/reflections:
The Red: Dead Judgement of the Red Alignment; Mother of Parabola, Fingerkings, and Aeginae; Origin of the Red-Handed Queen
The White: Judgement of the White Alignment; Spymaster of the High Wilderness; The Orchestrate of multiple plots to destroy the Neath
Because of chapter 7 of Firmament we know that the Red-Handed Queen is a fragment of the Red, born from her destruction for the creation of Parabola, as tasked by the White. We also know that the Beleaguered King is a reflection of the White due to what the Red learned from him about "the schemes of her destroyer"
This is continued in the strangest interaction between the Parabolan King and Queen, where they speak of the message the Bazaar possesses. The King says "Some of them have taken steps to ensure it is not delivered", to which the Queen replies "We should have done the same, to that message that passed between us". That is strange, perhaps it is of the request the White gave the Red to which he betrayed her with? Oh, and what story line can you find this interaction mourning a past that could have been? Seeking Mr Eaten's Name, how interesting, we will get back to that.
Given the relation between the Red-Handed Queen and the Fingerkings reflecting the reality of the Fingerkings and the Red, as long as echoing the relationship of the Red and the Aeginae, it would not be wrong to continue to use the Parabolan relations to understand the truth of the world. So, the question that fully sent me down this path: Who is the Innocent Princess, the daughter of the Red-Handed Queen and the Beleaguered King?
I will be sidetracking real quick to explain the plot of Seeking in a cosmic sense, not the story line, but the history and plot behind it. As learned from the "Nicator", the White planned this all from the very beginning. So, in essence: Mr Candles was sacrificed to the plot of Seeking in service to the White's ambitions. The Priests-Kings of the Third City brought about his sacrifice to be swallowed up, so that the the Judgements will grant the White victory when the crimes of the Neath are exposed.
Back to the question of the Innocent Princess, there is a quote from the Silver Tree that may... Reveal some things: "In my dream, the Innocent Princess was sacrificed to the North Wind in service of her father's ambitions. The priests pushed her from the cliff to be swallowed by the sea, so their god would grant their King victory."
The Innocent Princess, in the case of the dreams about her, only exists to be sacrificed, that is her only importance. Mr Candles only importance and remaining existence is only about his sacrifice.
What I am suggesting is very simple: The Innocent Princess is a reflection of Candles, and thusly, that Mr Candles is the son of The Red and The White.
This post is already too long, so I will not post the evidence for Candles having been a Judgement in the past, but it explains how one of the most on the nose pieces of evidence is connected to being Stormy-Eyed "And the star becomes a candle-flame in a window across the way. Try as you might, it won't become a star again." Storm is considered a "prince among myrmidons", just like how the Red calls herself "Queen of the Myrmidons". Storm is in a tangible way blood related to Candles, and would certainly know who he used to be.
The repeated themes motifs that Seeking Mr Eaten's Name and Queeneater's Castle also make sense with this in mind, as it would be a tale of Mother and Son, used and sacrificed the same way, by the same Judgement.
It also explains why Salt is strangely connected to Seeking Mr Eaten's Name out of nowhere. In Queeneaters, we learn that in at least a metaphorical sense, Salt usurped her, taking part of her with it. This is found in the Memory of Frostfound found within The Mind of a Long-Dead Queen. With a tie-in with The Green King, we hear of when The Red was "in rags, red and green". With the tie in you have the option to "become Green": "All boundaries were once mine. I will midwife myself, ripped through my own form, render my flesh to carry in rags as I, newborn, birthmother, attend the grave of my birth. But it will not come – or if it does, it goes on without me. I see the green disappear like snow in the heavens and I am alone and I am red again. I am myself again." Along with that, on the stage and in in your confrontation of the Red herself, the Knave is shown to represent a usurper, taking from the Queen to become something new and better, something that was taken from her that leaves her.
With this, Kingeater's Castle comes into focus. Queeneater's castle is the site of the Red's Judgemental remains, just as Kingeaster's Castle is the remains of Salt's Judgemental remains. It also explains how Salt crossed the impossibly boundary of the East, for it devoured and took from the Judgement of Metes and Bounds, Boundaries were once hers, so of course it could use that to pass to the Uttermost East.
What does this mean for the universe going further, or perhaps more closely Firmament? I would not be shocked if we got more of Candles in Firmament or some Roof/Stacks content. I personally hope for some more vindication then simple heavy-handed allegory and prose, but unfortunately Mr Candles is so deeply woven into the work that AK did with the setting that I would not be shocked if he is not touched in an important manner... Then again, I said that before he was referenced in the Railroad, and physically appeared in Apocryphal Burgundy in the lair of the Calendar of All Seasons, and had a very characterising moment in Hell is Missing, so perhaps it is not foolish hope born of SMEN induced brain rot that I am hooked on, perhaps I have just seen the subtle foreshadowing that has been laid for over a decade.
I wanted to write this up as soon as I got the question from @sith-shenanigans, but I kept rewriting and reexamining how I was going to try to explain because it is a complicated web of feelings, metaphors, themes, and strange identity issues that I was not sure I could truly do it justice without just writing all of her stories, but at best that is years away so here is my best attempt.
First of all, I personally like the headcanon of Mr Eaten and Mr Candles being different entities, particularly the system/headmate that I first saw from @vake-hunter. Just hooked into my brain for whatever reason and I could not say no it changing how I viewed the entirety of Candles' and Eaten's story.
So! Thematically, Cards is an extreme exploration of identity, selfhood, and what it means to be someone. In how that regards SMEN is rather simple. She was supposed to be Candles. She was shaped to be Candles, to let him live on, to have a new body, new life, a new chance. How that happens lore wise I will get to it later, but Candles is who she was expected to become, to be. In this perspective, Eaten is the embodiment of those who expected her to be such. For her entire life she had the niggling voice that was hers, telling her something was not quite right. Even the Masters she (fortunately or unfortunately, up to you) has to interact with all start to look at her like she is supposed to be someone else, even treat her like it at some points. To further this point even further, her SMEN arc is a self-destructive response to realising she does not truly understand herself and seeks to cut away everything that "is not her", trying to be what everyone wants her to be. Trying to cut away all that is Seria in order to just be a hollow vessel with that little bit of Candles so that he can grow, fill it up, and live. At the end of that story, well, I will not spoil it, but she does not end tragically. Eaten is not just a one note reflection of such themes, but does bring out said themes, and does develop along the story.
Lore wise, that is the hard part. I have enough nebulous ideas with lore backing that allow for this story to take place, yet none of them fit cleanly. Before she was born, she was changed to be like Candles. Be it through Parabola, souls, laws, no laws, Irem, or a mix of the above, that was the plan. The process was not perfect, Eaten could not just remake Candles, or it would have already happened, but someone could be shaped to be the perfect vessel through Seeking. The result was a Human that was not quite human, did not fully fit in with others of their species, and displayed a disturbing amount of Curatorial traits from a young age. Her Mother tried to do something about this (positive), but well... She failed, and that is another story. In the end, Seria Clever, the Clever Correspondent, would ascend the chain to a form that truly fit their strange strange soul and accept who she was. She was not Candles, even if she is part Candles, she is Cards. This was not who she was when she was conceived, nor who she was shaped to be, but this is who she was.
Another aspect of this relationship that is extremely prudent but did not fit in the other two is a different dive into identity. Are you the same person as you were an hour ago? A day ago? A year? A part of Cards conditions I have not mentioned yet is her ability to remember everything, caused by a helpful (harmful) infusion of Violant, a purposeful reflection of the infusion of Irrigo one gets during SMEN with Obscurity. Cards reflects the guilt and mourning of no longer being who you once were, for good or ill. You can never truly be the person you used to be, no matter what you do, no matter how much you cut away, no matter how much you change, you are the you of now, and you will never be the you of then. Eventually she comes to terms with that, and that the solution to saving Candles is not to damn herself, but the guilt of knowing that she exists now because Candles does not haunts her. The you of before cannot live, because the you of now does. And just like the you of before, Cards exists because Candles wants her to. Again, I will get into this more in my actual writings, but it is more of a self imposed guilt strictly from herself.
I am sure I could go further, but I cannot quite articulate anything more, alas. Forgive me if my speech is unclear or absurd. (Sorry halfway through writing all this this quote popped right into my head and I just have to say it. Appropriate subject matter for the quote at hand at least.)
I would like to start this by apologising for my lack of activity recently, unfortunately work became a disaster and a minor concussion has turned thus far into a major chronic problem, so writing has been difficult to say the least, but hopefully this little exercise will help, even if just helping me feel better about my cognition.
When it comes to species, given how other Curators/Masters are based on bats, I wanted to grab a unique species to use instead of just the typical go to bats. Due to her connection to Candles (and my personal headcanon of him being based on the Honduran White Bat), I knew I wanted to go with a white or albino bat. Given the fact that only approximately six species display this colouration, and given only two of those species had pictures I could use, I had limited options.
It is ironic that the species I chose was the Northern Ghost Bat, if you know the lore of Seeking Mr Eaten's Name. It fits with her story, however, because she truly found herself up North.
It is a bit of a debate in the community if Curators/Masters have horns, I personally am in the camp that says yet, but I do have alternate designs of her with or without horns. When she does have horns, she has curled horns, similar to sheep. Given her metaphorical nature as a sacrificial lamb for a large portion of her story it only felt right to include a nod to that in her transitioned form so to say.
Though if I am being honest the more accurate reason for her horns is that I love the design of Kulve Taroth from Monster Hunter World and the Sacrificial Lamb just happened to work retroactively.
I would talk more about her robes, but I do not have an accurate illustration to point to for it yet, but I am planning on getting that done soon. If you have any more questions feel free to ask, I do love talking about stuff like this. c:
If the doodles are still open, I would adore a doodle of Seria Clever! She would prefer a dance, but whatever you would have the most fun with is best. She would be wearing the Timeless Gown, and a Violant Bat mask.
Now you too can see Caiomhe having a gay crisis in real time! (Tall. Pretty. Kind of intimidating (affectionate).)
If you are still accepting Feast of the Rose request, I would adore Seria Clever singing a Well-Song. She would probably be wearing her Timeless Gown that she was given by Ivy as well.
Here you are! I hope I got her colours right,the contrast is so fun to draw
I mainly worked off the swing concept, but wanted to make sure it was something that would fit a classy high stakes game... with a bit of personality! Sorry that I couldn't fit in any melancholy in there- but I was already twenty seconds over my planned time XD
Assuming we go into this with zero expectations at all, send me your OC you want potentially doodled.
This is either going to result in a spate of FL art, reverse psychology tricking me into finishing the massive Ockham comic I’ve been working on, or my brain ignoring both of these options and knitting a pair of socks. In any case, some sort of win.
Normally I am not one to post my thoughts on things, simply wanting this to be a space for my creative works, but, despite the inspiration and stories I have written with my Cards, woah am I not a fan of some of that, and just... Shocked that got through any approval. Just. Not a fan of retcons, but please just retcon all of the Third City stuff please this is terrible.
You feel the warm stone beneath your exposed form. The chains that restrain your movements. You feel your ichor stain their hands and teeth and your soul with such violent betrayal. All you can feel is agony and hatred. You look up, feeling the Sun's focus, attention. It watches as you are betrayed, and it does nothing else but observe. It burns…
You ride the 'Beneath the Neath' upwards. It was not why you were here, but you knew if you rode it you would feel the Sun. You never felt the Sun before, even on the surface as a child, you always ran cold, and even standing out in the most blazing of summer days, it simply felt like the sunlight itself ignored you. The wheel breaches the surface and for the first time, you feel the Sun on your human skin. The warmth feels wonderful, until, until it does not. The heat you feel is not just light, but attention. As you are perceived, you know it is not happy with what it is seeing. It burns like an echo…
Your ship splinters and shatters before the might of the Starved Oculus' sunlight, a lens in which to observe the Neath, and burn away all that should not be. All too soon, it focuses on you. Despite the Irrigo in your body, in your soul… It recognises you. Disgust and hatred are inflicted upon you, the little fur you were able to gain back igniting before Law. You scream out with all you know, trying to save all you love. It burns like a raging inferno…
You sneak around, protected by only irrigo and lily-balm. Even in the darkest places, you still feel the warmth of the sunlight, always chasing you. Your wounded realm is so hard to get to, your homes destroyed. The Sun rarely takes its gaze from London. It still tries to burn you. This is your fault echoes in your ears in your own voice. The Sun would never have been invested in what was happening in the Neath if you were not so stupid! You find a place that is truly dark. It burns like guilt.
You wake, gasping for air. You are not hurt, at least, not in the same way as your nightmares born of memories insist. You crawl out of comfort into the cold embrace of your spire. The air is colder than normal, or you got used to a horrible heat. You step out to your balcony, stretching your wings. You knock down a deck of cards and a few talon-crafted candles you had been working on earlier from a small table. You mutter as you reorganise them.
Gripping the railing, you look over London. Tears stream down your face as you observe, truly alone. It has been weeks since the Starved Invasion and counteroffensive, yet these nightmares do not go away. You think to go to Pages, maybe Veils, they care about you… but do they really? Pages completely brushed you off during the meeting, and Veils did not even come for the counteroffensive despite the perfect opportunity to hunt. Neither sought you out after you risked your very existence in saving them through that sacrifice... Another, another sacrifice. You have no one except yourselves, and they are of no help, you are all suffering the same pains and thoughts. Was it worth taking this recompense, this pity? You sob as the pain becomes too much again. It still burns, like an abandoned reckoning…
Your crew have already abandoned ship on your order, the ground will do far less damage than the Sun. Your fellows continue their hunts, leaving you alone with the Last of the First, engines failing, weapons sundered, gazing into the eye of oblivion. You know what you must do, the sigils you frantically scribed are doing what they can to will your ship into following the proper course, but you must ensure that it works.
Starved Men do their best to stop you, but they are no match for your claws and talons, your Parabolan light false-flesh flayed away to reveal your truth, your fellows are not the only ones getting their fill of blood and hunt. Your ship, a weapon of your design as disaster looms, takes the brunt of the light first. The eye above opening, damning all it gazes upon, and its interest is in you. Before the light hits, you remember the burns on your soul... The sun's heat is uncomfortable, as if it's being focused on you through a vast lens. It has a sense of presence, purpose; the heat you feel is not just light, but attention. You resist the falling memories as your white fur scorches from the recognition, violant-irrigo tears streaming down your face. Perhaps this will be your end, the end of millennia worth of suffering...
No. No you will not fail. Not for London, not for Humanity, not for Liberation, not for your colony, not for all the love you hold in your soul. You scream out with the whispers from the void within the stars, you spit Correspondence words with accents improper to your station, and no other language of frost and home.
You do not experience the impact, but as you burn to nothing, you know it was worth it.
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