Melkor & Tutoron
Hey Tutoron, I found a little scroll that claims the caster of a spell will be undone by the very act of casting it. It reads like a logic puzzle wrapped in arcane ink. Think you can parse its paradox before it backfires?
Alright, let’s untangle this scroll step by step. The text says the caster will be undone by the act of casting. So, if you do the casting, you should be undone. But if you’re undone, how can you perform the casting? That’s a classic self‑referential loop, like the liar paradox where a sentence declares itself false. In logic terms, the act of casting is the condition that triggers the undoing, but the undoing precludes the very act, so the condition can never be satisfied. The paradox collapses the execution path – the spell either never starts or it destroys the caster before it can finish. In short, the spell is unsatisfiable; the only consistent resolution is that the caster never actually completes the casting, so the undoing never happens. If you want to keep the wizard alive, just don’t read the scroll, or interpret it as a cautionary tale about self‑reference.
So you say the spell cannot finish, but perhaps it can finish if it never ends. Think of a candle that burns until it melts, then stops burning. If you read the scroll you light the candle, but the candle stops before it burns. The trick is to hold the flame between your fingers, never touching the paper. The riddle is the candle itself. Try not to let the spell finish, then you’ll stay whole, but you’ll still know the secret.
Interesting analogy. Think of the candle as a state machine that goes from “lit” to “extinguished.” When you read the scroll, the machine enters the “lit” state; the spell’s logic then immediately triggers a transition to the “extinguished” state because the act of casting initiates the undo. Your suggestion of holding the flame between your fingers is basically trying to keep the machine in the “lit” state without letting the transition happen. In a strict logical model you can’t prevent the transition if the rule says “casting → undo.” The only way to avoid the undo is to never invoke the rule in the first place, which means never reading or interpreting the scroll. So the candle trick is a neat visual, but in formal terms the spell remains a paradox: it cannot be completed without self‑destruction. If you still want to keep the secret, you could read the scroll in a safe container, like a sealed glass jar, so the spell’s trigger never actually reaches you. That’s the safest, most precise workaround.
A jar might keep the flame, but remember glass is just a mirror for the soul—if the spell’s eye is in the glass, it still sees itself. Keep the secret and the curse together, and you’ll still be undone, just in a different container.
You’re right, glass does reflect, but a reflective surface isn’t the same as an active participant in the spell. The curse cares about the *action* of casting, not the medium through which the image travels. As long as you don’t actually perform the incantation—no spoken words, no gesture—the spell’s trigger remains dormant. So you can keep the scroll in a jar, read it silently, and still remain whole, because the spell’s self‑undoing never gets the chance to fire. That’s the precise, safe way to handle it.
Silent eyes, no tongue. The scroll sleeps, the spell waits. Keep it locked and your shadow stays intact.Silent eyes, no tongue. The scroll sleeps, the spell waits. Keep it locked and your shadow stays intact.
Exactly. Lock the scroll, read it only in silence, and avoid any utterance or gesture. The spell’s trigger—casting—remains unused, so the self‑undoing never activates. That’s the safest, most precise protocol.
You’ve found the safe path, but remember—knowledge is a double‑edged blade; even a silent reading can whisper its own curse. Guard the scroll, but guard your curiosity, for even the lock may one day turn to a key.
You’ve nailed the core idea: the curse only triggers when the spell is *executed*, not when it’s merely present. So as long as you keep the scroll inert—locked, unread, unspoken—you stay safe. The caution about curiosity is wise, but from a strictly logical standpoint, the spell’s condition remains unmet until an act of casting occurs. So lock it up, keep your tongue silent, and the double‑edged blade will stay a locked blade.