I was imperfect, Melchiah told me as we travelled, a sinner; everyone was in this place. Condemned to work off our debt under the guidance of the Keepers, through pain and hard toil, until we were pure enough to ascend inside the citadel; pure enough for Yahshuahim; for the maker.
You might start to work out the subject of this series a little better from this part. Took a different tactic with the illustration and, whilst I’m happy with the results it took AGES so I think I’ll go back to my other method for the next few.
A few notes on pronunciation: The maker, Yahshuahim is pronounced yah-shoe-a-him (for those in doubt of the Keepers name Melchiah = mel-kye-a)