One day, a wanderer stumbled into the Repository. His body was frail, his heart heavy with despair. He carried no crown, no blade, no wealth — only sorrow so profound it clung to him like a shroud.
The Autarch approached, her iridescent form casting light into his darkness. He spoke of loss, of dreams that had withered, of hope that had been buried. She listened, and for the first time since her exile, she did not answer with decree or command. Instead, she reached out and drew his sorrow into her grasp.
With care, she sealed it within her vault. The wanderer, unburdened, wept not with despair but with relief. His grief had not been erased, but preserved — given meaning beyond his life. This was the first Sentiment, the cornerstone upon which the Repository's purpose was fully realized.
From that moment, the Autarch understood: her realm was not built for her alone, but for all who carried the weight of existence.