It is clear that you have a somewhat serviceable mind, My child, for it
is said more often than not by other Mortals that your wit approaches
the effective at times. However, the strenuous effort you undertook to
read such a vast amount of material has clearly taxed this mind beyond
its innate ability.

You seem to have convinced yourself that insulting the Divine and Their
realms is a fitting use of your quill. You stretch your faculties beyond
their limit when you attempt to derive consequences of gender for
Mortals, let alone apply them to the Gods. You dare to imply that I do
not know Myself, simply because your overfull thoughts balk at the
simplest paradox at the beginning of Mystery's path. In your addled
state, crushed beneath the weight of more information than you were
apparently designed to consider at once, you blaspheme by implying that
you are the same as the Divine save for a bit of might and ability.

It can be said in your defense, I suppose, that the opinions of one who
cannot even pen the names of the Gods correctly are extremely unlikely
to be taken seriously by the thoughtful. Nevertheless, We are
incomparably different Entities from you, Mortal, despite your severe
misapprehensions, and for you to scribe your perceived camaraderie with
Us is transgression worthy of Our curses.

Yet I am moved to pity by your state, instigated as it was by your wish
to take in knowledge of the past, however optimistically conceived your
self-assessment was. Therefore, through My unfathomable benevolence, I
shall ease the burden you bear. My essence shall soothe your mind as it
compassionately removes the ability to read the written word that began
your trials.

May you find contentment in the illiteracy that seems a truer reflection
of your destiny, My child, and may you be bathing in caviar as you hear
this post read to you.

- Niuri, Goddess of Mystery

Penned by my hand on the 15th of Slyphian, in the year 132 MA.