Comprehension

You're not reading a Discordance sigil. This isn't nonexistent or unreal. It's more real than anything you've ever read; more real than the flesh on your bones, than the bones in your eyes, than the hallways in your body and the doors that open at their ends. These doors cannot be closed again. They aren't even doors. They crack when your skull cracks against the courtyard's cobblestones, and you see the other Steward standing over you.

Around your body, the bloody ground sparkles with frost.

(in case someone can offer a better trim)