Seducer: Escalation

By Dan Champagne

Volume II, Book II of the Abaddon Trilogy.

Laiel Brockade has been found. Fallen down a dark hole for a year, he’s been rescued and brought up into the light once more. But he’s not doing so good. He looks a little chipped around the edges, like a smile with broken teeth. But he’s making his big comeback. And with one of the Devil’s own sons, a ‘Big Comeback’ takes on fantastic, destructive new meaning. His gang’s teeming with monsters and brimming with magic, and they’re out for blood. The problem is, they aren’t wise to the true depths of evil within the man they’re jobbing for. Laiel has some ideas all his own on how exactly to hop, skip, and jump his way to the other side of the checkerboard of darkness. The jester of the Devil’s court, your friend and mine, Mr. Laiel Arturus Brockade, is nearly positioned to shout “King Me!” That, or he’ll flip over the gameboard and shoot his opponent dead. Either way, he’s not just playing to win... He’s cheating.

Genres: Occult & Supernatural, Horror, Action & Adventure, Sub/Urban Fantasy, Humor/Satire, Philosophy, Religion, War, Pre/Post-Apocalyptic.

Prior Reading:
Provoker. Volume I
Nocturnal Whispers: Volume I
Seducer: Alliance. Volume II:I
Further Reading:
Seducer: Insurgence. Volume II:III
Nocturnal Whispers: Volume II
Destroyer: Onus. Volume III:I

• Language: English
• Publisher: Dan Champagne
• Release date: May 9, 2016
• ISBN: 9780997134117

Dan Champagne

Dan Champagne Born: 1974, Died: ???? Writer, Occultist, Dark Magician. A small, thin, but muscular bald man, with pale skin, and piercing hazel eyes, almost always dressed in black. [Note: All stats, GURPS® 3rd edition] ST:10, DX:12, Speed:5.75, IQ:14, HT:11, Move:5, Dodge:6. Advantages: Animal Empathy, Combat Reflexes, Eidetic Memory/1, Magical Aptitude/3 (Limitation: Black Magic only), Strong Will+1, Composed, Less Sleep/2, Versatile, Awareness, Racial Memory, Immunity (the negative effects of self-cast Black Magic). Disadvantages: Personal Code of Honor, Split Personality, Unluckiness, Secrets, Insomniac, Undiscriminating, Voices, Xenophilia, Divinely Cursed. Quirks: Loves foreign foods. Prefers his women heavy. Doesn’t care about nostalgia items like photographs. Talks to his cat like it’s a person. Skills: Thaumatology-13, Writing-14, Acrobatics-10, Brawling-12, Broadsword-11, Guns (pistol/rifle)-13, Karate-10, Climbing-11, Survival (northern forests)-12, Computer Operation-13, Ecology-11, Geology-11, History-11, Literature-11, Occultism-14, Psychology-11, Theology-13, Acting-13, Stealth-11, Tactics-10. Languages: English (native)-17. Equipment: Dan will nearly always be found with a knife somewhere upon his person, although he is usually careful to ensure that the item is legal for him to carry. Depending on the time period of his life in which he’s encountered, he may also be carrying other weapons, including, but not limited to: a pistol, pepper spray, a pressure baton, and perhaps a taser. Character Notes: This is Dan as he is most likely to be met in a contemporary setting. Note that this is a conservative, mostly realistic treatment of the author, which does not assume that the supernatural is either real or not. A cinematic treatment of Dan, especially one that includes the existence of supernatural elements, would have much higher skill levels, the addition of spells, and even other supernatural advantages and disadvantages, such as the ability to spontaneously cast spells, reputations among angels and demons both, plus allies and enemies among them as well. Dan was born in Manchester, New Hampshire, in 1974. He showed aptitudes for art and language at an early age, but was always somewhat socially withdrawn. His earliest memories of interacting with other children were ones of alienation. By the age of twenty-one, he had been married and divorced, and events previous to that left him convinced that he was somehow fundamentally different from other people, and would never fit into contemporary society. At age thirteen, he received a copy of The Satanic Bible by Anton Szandor LaVey. Upon first reading it, he became enamored with philosophy, but by adulthood he had abandoned the tenets of modern atheistic Satanism in favor of a more broad and personally-developed Left Hand Path philosophy. When he was a teenager, he became a ward of the state due to difficulties involving his home life, mostly surrounding his mother’s divorce from his father, who, while not being Dan’s biological, was the man who had mostly raised him. During these years, his anti-social tendencies deepened, but these feelings were somewhat lessened during his early twenties. Since childhood, Dan had been plagued by undiagnosed schizophrenia (reflected by the disadvantages of Split Personality, and Voices), which had served as the springboard for his interest in the occult and supernatural in his youth. The author made an unsuccessful attempt at a college career. While being a stellar student, his college aspirations eventually failed due to a combination of his worsening schizophrenia and problems financing his education. He managed a comic store for a decade, which coincided with his short college attendance. After this period of his life, and due to several hospitalizations from acute mental illness, Dan came to the conclusion that his best destiny was as a writer, and he increasingly concentrated his time and efforts to that end. Encountered: Dan can be socially abrasive, but how much of that is truly self-generated, versus being an understandable response to others’ negative reactions to his strangeness, is debatable. Due to his focus on his writing, he increasingly evaluates situations on how much they might help, or harm, his writing career. At times he can seem cold and distant, or even hostile, but this is another reaction to, and often even an anticipation of, the poor treatment generally dealt to those who are socially divergent. Despite the above, few people come away from an encounter with Dan without being left with an impression of the energy, intellect, will, and pride that form the core of his personality.

Book preview

SEDUCER:

ESCALATION

Volume II, Book II

of the Abaddon Trilogy

by Dan Champagne.

published by PonderHouse.

copyright 2015 Dan Champagne.

[smashwords edition]

This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, creatures, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, business establishments, organizations, faiths, or actual persons, living or dead, or manifest entities, undead or otherwise, is entirely coincidental, with all due respect intended.

Copyright 2016 by Dan Champagne

Artworks copyright 2016 by Creative Monkey Designs

All rights reserved.

a PonderHouse publication

produced, edited by silent.

version 1.1s  2019/02/14

ISBN-13: 978-0-9971-3411-7

ISBN-10: 0-9971-3411-9

NocturnalWhispers.com

PonderHouse.com

Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise), without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

Penned in the United States of America,

New Hampshire.

If you bought this book,

the author appreciates it.

To every demon and angel of human form

who’ve helped or hindered along my way.

SEDUCER

  by

Dan Champagne

[legal about]

Book II: ESCALATION

01.Wherein our ‘hero’ gets talked down to by his Big Brother.

02.Wherein Jesus makes a fatal, immortal mistake.

03.Wherein the allies are sized up for slaughter.

04.Wherein the holy battle the unholy, and lose.

05.Wherein the allies take a leisurely stroll through the forest.

06.Wherein an enemy finally finds her power, and then seeks more.

07.Wherein many forgotten enemies are re-fought inside the spooky mind-house.

08.Wherein we almost say a bloody farewell to most of the allies.

09.Wherein a lot of bad people talk over the particulars.

10.Wherein our hero stumps up some stairs.

Book II:

ESCALATION

…these dreamers pollute their own bodies,

reject authority and slander celestial beings.

But even the Archangel Micha-El, when he was disputing with

the Devil about the body of Moses, did not dare

to bring a slanderous accusation against him, but said,

Jehovah God rebuke you!

Yet these men speak abusively against whatever

they do not understand;

and what things they do understand by instinct,

like unreasoning animals–

these are the very things that destroy them.

Woe to them!

They have taken the way of Cain…

 

–The Letter of Jude:

Eighth, ninth, tenth, and eleventh verses.

Dramatis Personæ

Laiel Arturus Brockade: bastard, Son of the Devil, Provoker.

The Antichrist: First Son of the Devil, The Adversary, Seducer.

The Warlock: Antichrist’s left hand, ancient, aka Lazarus.

Death: the Grim Reaper, Thanatos, Azrael, the Pale Rider.

Cupideau Ahmee Etienne: immortal, beheaded French assassin.

Eftemie Shaithisanu: gentleman vampire of the Nagyszalonta.

The Devil’s Reapers: outlaw motorcycle gang.

Alexis Oliver: necromantic Gypsy witch, gang leader.

Greg ‘Tommy’ Thompson: educated thug.

Crispus McBride: the uncommon outlaw, werewolf.

Jimbo Givens: the Squire, the Ripper, tech support.

Benjamin Arlington: gumshoe, serial killer hunter.

Andrew Slade: the fat Apprentice, living grimoire.

Peter Bisclavret: Wolfsinger, the Obsidian Prince.

Elterenne: Gadarene Demon of the Hellforge.

Simon Diamond: supernatural serial killer.

Molly Bethlehem: evil child prodigy.

Caroline Nachmann: medieval witch.

Alekzander: princely ghoul, elect of the Antichrist.

Colleen Wordlow: Satanic schoolteacher, coven leader.

The Holy See: scholars, watchers, asskickers for Christ.

The Inquisitor: holy enforcer, by decree of the Church.

Adoncia Graciela Ramirez: bringer of holy fire.

Jason Gabe: the Saint of the Devil, the crafter.

Machinegun Mike: shooter, weapons man.

Indu Dipali Damayanti: fire demigoddess.

Patel: Caitiff Angel of the Heavenforge.

The Smashsassin: demon-possessed killer viking for hire.

Vickie Lynn Rollins: unholy warrior, 13 Charms of Hell.

The Ghosts: refugee phantoms of the Second Golgotha.

Sir Taeliesinn: the Evil Prince, keeper of The Mirror.

Father Grayburne: replacement Inquisitor, in training.

Cardinal Desdemonde: the Clerk of the Holy Inquisition.

Rodrigo Borgia: Pope Alexander VI, Son of the Devil.

Dorothy Parker: Daughter of the Devil, Imperatrix of Hell, Destroyer.

Abigail Fuller: werewolf, the Dark Spirit of the Woods.

Bolger: infernal scarecrow, gallows construct.

Bessalina Navalov: vampire Queen, Dracula’s descendant.

Tourille: alabaster Angel of God’s Wrath, Earthside.

Sara: the Bloody Martyr, the wanderer, the key.

Max Schreck: The Vampire, Dracula’s elect.

Hexx 113: spooky travelers, Devil’s elect.

one

Hi! I’m Laiel Brockade… remember me?

Sure ya do…

Gotta tell ya, where I’m talkin’ at you from, it’s not so pretty good of a place.

But you knew that already, right?

Sure ya did…

So, here’s me. Down in the dark. Usually, I like the dark. But not so much right at the moment. Or in the past, say, year. You know what I’m talking about. My big brother sent onea his little blonde chippies after me. And I got taken. So easy.

Gotta admit, it was my own damn fault. All of it. I’m sayin’ every last little speck of dust that came down on me in a bad way. My fault. From that house I burned down with the Night Reapers in Whatever-The-Fuck-Named Town where that cult we went after was living, to Boston, to Miami. And all points in between. The just desserts of my own full end.

That’s what happens when you go ‘round stompin’ on people. Sooner or later, somebody bigger puts on their boots. And they get ‘round to comin’ ‘round and stompin’ on you.

Like a bug.

And that’s me, right at the moment.

A bug.

Lyin’ in the dirt. On my back. Barely alive.

Yeah, I been stomped on real good.

Ain’t done nothing positive for my sense of self-worth, I’ll tell ya.

Worst part isn’t the dark. Nor the loneliness. Neither is it the helplessness. And it isn’t the pain. And believe you me, brothers and sisters… I’ve suffered about as much in the last year as any living thing can.

The worst part is my big brother.

Yeah, you heard that right– My Big Brother.

The Antichrist.

He comes down here every now and then. Not all the way down. Oh–no. He stays his Epic Evil Ass up top. Looking down on me. Sometimes I can sense him up there. He just stares at me for awhile. Then he leaves. But even that’s not the worst of it. Nope. Not by a long shot.

The worst part is… he talks to me.

Like he’s come to do right now. For the last time. Take a close listen in on all that he’s got to say to me. ‘Cuz after this, boys and girls, the only thing him or I are gonna have left to say to each other is– ‘Die, you motherfucker!’

Son of the Devil’s word of honor, my friends.

Light.

Not much of it. But when you’ve been in an oubliette for a year, and hence have seen almost no light at all, even a little gray haze is blinding. Like staring up at the sun. I’d scream, if I had a single drop of spit in my mouth to get it done with. But I’ve got nothing. Except pain. And anger.

Scratch that last. Anger isn’t what I’ve got. I’ve got rage.

Now, about that light I mentioned…

It can herald one thing, and one thing alone.

My brother has come around for another one of his fucking visits.

I’d rather be visited by the clap. And that’s the truth.

But almost-dead-men aren’t the choosers, now are they?

Nope. They aren’t.

These little ‘conversations’ of ours are kinda one-sided. No, I tell a lie. They are absolutely, and only, one-sided. Mostly because I’m no longer capable of speech. That’s the kind of thing that happens when you’ve spent a year in a lightless hole in the ground. No food. No water. Freezing fucking cold.

Pain has taken on fantastic new dimensions of meaning for me.

Been stabbed before. Been shot. Both of ‘em more than once, to boot. Got myself burned by fire pretty good on more than one occasion, also. Despite my natural resistance to it. Car accidents. Sure. Both as pilot, and passenger. Almost gotten myself chewed up and partially eaten eaten by various monsters, come to think on it.

But none of that counts. Not anymore. Not after this.

I’ve seen the Big Sun of pain now.

The old one seems small, and weak, and cold in comparison.

I will survive this. That’s my sneaking suspicion. And here’s my reason.

It’s the proverbial– ‘If they wanted me dead, I’d be dead already.’

In this case, it’s true. As true as the sun rising in the morn, or that Uncle Sam’s gonna come to get his cut of your take. As true as that after you pay alla those taxes, you’re gonna die someday. Because they’ve got me. He’s got me. You know the ‘He’ to which I refer.

He who has been the dominator of all my hate-soaked thoughts for the past year.

And there he is up there now. At the lip of the hole that I’m lying down at the bottom of. I can see the familiar outline of his well-kept haircut on his fucking pumpkin head. Just staring down at me for long seconds. The sonuvabitch. The motherfucker.

I see him nod his head. You know, that way one friend will tip a little nod to another. Like you’re sharing a secret. And if they’re a good enough friend, no doubt, you are. Probably more than one.

Then he starts speaking.

Every word he says is like a nail being driven deep down into my soul.

That motherfucker.

"Greetings, Laiel!

Please, don’t get up, remain comfortable.

Har de har–har, asshole.

I regret that this will be the last of our conversations for some time.

I’m cryin’ real tears over that one…

For soon you will be away from here. Gone from my presence. But you will carry with you all of the profound lessons that I have graced you with over the course of the past year.

What in the FUCK is this retard talking about?

"But there is more, my brother, much more! I will share with you, for despite my nature, our nature, I am not without generosity. I have come to educate you, my young brother."

Omifuckengod… now I really want to die. Seriously. Do me a solid. Kill me now.

We shall begin our discussion by speaking of the left hand path, and its companion upon the Earth, the right hand path. Of course the better known of the two is the right hand path, but in truth it is no better understood by its adherents than the left hand path is.

OK, he’s actually right about that. In my experience, at least. Broken clocks and all that is the rumor I’ve heard on situations like this.

"Now, the right hand path is all around us, Laiel. The Earth is no thing of solid ground and inner core, as it might appear to be. In truth, it is a great sea. An ocean of the right hand path. This is so much so that most have never heard of the concepts of the two paths, much less understands them.

"The Abrahamic religions are the great mountainous edifice of the right hand path. These three share common origin, and much, much more than that. Though their followers deny it, though they murder one another in great masses, much to our mutual delight, no doubt, these three religions share strong philosophical similarities. And these commonalities among them serve as both their strengths, and their weaknesses.

"You and I are, of course, invested in those weaknesses…

For when we have fully mastered exploiting these flaws, we shall be empowered to use them to tear down the mountains of the right hand path!

Speak for yourself, asswipe. I could give a ripe, flying fuck if the Menora fondlers, Jesus freaks, and towel-headed camel fuckers kill each other off or end up ruling the world. I’m out for myself.

"But we must be ever vigilant, O’ my brother! For as much as it is our ultimate goal to make an end of the right hand path, it has always been the adherents of that path’s goal to do the same to us. And they are, by nature, more aggressive, and more organized than our kind.

And that, Laiel, brings me to my point!

Thank god. One step closer to you shutting up, and me getting the fuck outta here.

"The true nature of the right hand path, and the religions characterized by it, is that of authority. All things are dictated by the religious philosophy of it. An illustration of this, you say? Certainly!

"Think on the modern Christians in the United States of America. What happy fools! They would deny that their religion quashes individuality, while at the very same time you will find them wearing cheap jewelry inscribed with the letters ‘WWJD.’

"Ponder such, Laiel… ‘What Would Jesus Do?’

"Ahahahahahaha! They would be so very offended at the notion that they sacrifice their individuality in favor of a dubious ‘enlightenment.’ That they give up their own hearts in search of this elusive ‘Salvation.’ ‘What Would Jesus Do?’ Not, ‘What Would I Do?’ See what they advocate?"

Yeah, I can see where he’s going with this. And he’s got a point. Sort of.

"Do not be yourself. Do not think for yourself, especially in any moral sense. Instead, consider what some other, Jesus, or even Moses, or perhaps Muhammad, would do instead. Do not act upon your feelings, or the pangs of the desires of your own heart. Instead, set aside your desires, your earthly needs and wants, and pursue that which is heavenly.

"As if Heaven is better than the Earth!

"Naïve children want Heaven, Laiel. We masters want the Earth!

"So you see, Laiel, the right hand path is the way of authority, and of the herd. The left hand path, conversely, is the way of individuality, and, perhaps… chaos!

"Yes, Laiel, you have properly divined the truth here.

"They can reach unity. We are always disparate.

"We could very well lose this war.

"In victory they would hunt us, Laiel. You, I, and all of the other many denizens of the great, sprawling darknesses of this world. They would hunt us into extinction. ‘Suffer not a witch to live’ would gain a new, devastating life!

"But I, as well as the host of our mutual siblings, not to mention our exalted Father, have no intention of allowing that to happen. But we must be cautious, and equally as bold, else the Earth suffer beneath a second ministry of prophets, fanatics, and martyrs.

That cannot be allowed to happen, Laiel.

We agree on that, at least.

And together we shall prevent it!

Sure we will. After I kill you, I’ll use your corpse as a body-shield while I kick ass on all of the holier-than-thou assholes of the world. Sounds like the beginnings of a master plan to me.

Still, there is more to this…

Fucking hell. When’s it gonna end?

"Though the right hand path, with its rigidity of thinking, and hierarchical authority, gains great strength by instilling unity of thought and purpose in its adherents, it is not without flaws. And the most telling of these flaws is paired with its very strength.

"It is philosophically stagnant, Laiel.

Surely you see the truth of this!

Yeah, I do. I get it. They’ve got a book. The Book is the authority. Don’t alter it. That’s a sin. Everything has to fit into what the Book describes. Or else it’s just no damned good.

"Unlike those such as ourselves, of the left hand path, who embrace no singular book and inscribe in inalterable stone no stagnant philosophy by which we live our lives. In this, we are the superior."

Great. But I’m wagering that those same Bible, Talmud, and Koran-thumping ‘philosophically stagnant’ dickheads will point ‘philosophically stagnant’ guns at you and me both, big brother. Then they’ll fire ‘philosophically stagnant’ bullets out of those guns, and happily ventilate our ‘philosophically superior’ asses.

It is our diversity, perhaps, that is our greatest strength, Laiel. Or it might simply be that our kind are unpredictable. Chaos and Law, Laiel! This is not only a war between a remote God of good and an equally remote power of evil. No. It is no ‘Cold’ war, either. This conflict burns, O’ my brother! And undoubtedly it is to our mutual delight!

I hate it when he’s right.

"Now, a question may be ringing in your mind, Laiel. The question of evil itself. The inevitable ‘Why?’ of it all. Why, you are thinking, do any women and men upon the Earth choose evil over good? Simple answers may suggest themselves to you. But those answers are just as simply dismissed. It is too easy to say it is their uncertainty in any sort of cosmic shepherd. ‘Since they cannot be certain that accountability shall ever be applied to their bad actions, they choose selfishness!’ Certainly, the stupid among them would rationalize in such a way. And with equal certitude can we confess that humanity has never lacked for fools. But again, this is too simple. Too dismissive.

"In choosing evil, humanity is nearly always working against themselves, if not immediately, at least ultimately. Evil is divisive. Distrust breeds chaos. The chaos of disorder saps the strength of mankind. The strength needed to accomplish great things. Simply put, Laiel, evil does not make much sense.

"But yet they flock to submit themselves to the ministrations of our Father!

"Evil possesses a timeless allure.

"Whereas conversely, good is met so often with derision. Humanity! Such a wonderful harmony of opposites! Evil destroys, and is the refuge of the weak, yet they embrace it as if it has strength. Good brings about their uplift, and requires the truer strength of self-sacrifice, yet they deride it!

"A simple, and telling, question that an adolescent mind would ask– ‘Why does evil have to be so cool?’

Ahahahahahahahahahahahaha!

Boy, do I hate his laugh…

"But let’s not dwell overlong upon the ‘Why’s of good and evil, Laiel. Instead let us turn our attention towards the adherents of the Left Hand Path. Our path, my brother. Our people.

"Firstly, a secret thing, known of course to those such as you and I, but unknown to the great mass of humanity. Laiel, it is this– We are living in a Satanic age. It is our time, brother. We have the upper hand, at last!

"Think upon the wonders of our time and place, Laiel. All has been turned upon its head. The Christians cry out for selfishness! The closer to the edifice of earthly religion a man or woman is, the more that they judge others bad, and the less that they extend grace and blessings from their hearts. The every action of these so modern people is bent toward self-aggrandizement. They have no true need for either savior or salvation, for their own selfish uplift is what they believe saves them.

"They claim Christianity, yet they act in no way like Christ.

"They are delightful!

"They are adherents of the left hand path, and yet all the while they are convinced that they are the champions of its opposite. They sacrifice nothing of themselves, while expecting all around them to sacrifice on their behalf.

"We are in the age of social media. Every person seeks their own celebrity. They seek recognition of their own virtues from others, first and foremost. They believe that clicking a button on a computer is activism. Every one of them relies only upon their own sagacity. They are wiser, smarter, better people than others. They know it. And they must have the praise of others to confirm it.

"Laiel, consider how many self-proclaimed geniuses that there are. And in this, at least, there is no true dishonesty. They do believe that they are geniuses, even though there is absolutely no evidence towards such a thing at all.

"I say again, Laiel… we are living in the age of our Father’s ascendancy.

"This is the age of the Devil, visited upon the Earth.

"Within the pages of their own holy book it is written– ‘…there will be terrifying times in the last days. People will be self-centered and lovers of money, proud, haughty, abusive, disobedient to their parents, ungrateful, irreligious, callous, implacable, slanderous, licentious, brutal, hating what is good, traitors, reckless, conceited, lovers of pleasure rather than lovers of God, as they make a pretense of religion but deny its power.’

"A more accurate description of humanity in these modern days you will struggle to find, my brother.

"Let us silently rejoice over this for a moment…

"Here, now, let us contemplate something new. This is a bit of my own personal philosophizing, Laiel. I have observed that the left hand path manifests itself in individuals in three main ways. I call these branches of the flowering of the tree of evil by different names. I call them Provokers, Seducers, and Destroyers. Within the disparate ranks of these three types there exists both an inherent strength, and an inherent weakness.

Allow me to dissertate now, Laiel. Though I ask your forgiveness of me as I wax philosophical at you!

Like I’ve got some sort of choice? Asshole. And, apology not accepted.

"Let us work in reverse order. Destroyers. Ah, the simplest of them all! These are the destructive members of our path. They range in exact kind, like any group, from foolish teenagers wearing black clothing who are the lovers and purveyors of that wonderful musical form Black Metal, to those most serious shocktroops of Satanism that reside, hidden, within the ranks of the world’s militaries. They are marked by their war-like nature. They are the strong branch of our great tree. They are our soldiers, but also our military commanders. They are vital, for we are at war. We need them, Laiel, desperately in these latter days, do we need them.

"The Destroyers’ strength lies within their natural attributes of fearlessness and aggression. We are doomed to failure without their might, both to guard us from, and to assault, the enemy. But within that very strength is hidden their great weakness. They must be guided. For if they are not, they are prone to misbehaving.

"Need I elucidate on the dangers of the misbehavior of the Destroyers among us, Laiel?

"Surely, I do not.

"And far worse than the senseless deaths and pointless destruction that such as them cause when left unmastered, is the fact that in performing these useless acts they become the destructors of their own lives. For invariably, these rampages end always with the death, or lifelong imprisonment, of the perpetrators themselves.

"In this way, our path has felt the searing loss of many great warriors.

But now, I have appeared to make an end of such things.

Well, I guess he wasn’t paying much attention. Because just prior to him dropping me down the hole, me and my friends went on a pretty good little rampage there. And it didn’t escape my notice that he didn’t do the square root of fuck-all about it. Until the end of it, at least.

So, the Destroyers are our strong right arm. Our soldiers. Our battle strategists. The foundation of our strength in war. But they can also be the tools of our downfall, for they are prone to, dare I say it… violent outbursts. They require a firm hand. And so, our Father has sent me.

God help us all. This dickhead is in charge of the ass-kickers.

"Let us move on in our thoughts now, Laiel…

"Let us consider the Seducers. Let us consider… me.

"For as I am sure that you have already divined, I am a Seducer. Could I be but else? I am the very embodiment of this arm of the left hand path. I am the second coming of the serpent of the garden. My advent signals the beguiling of the world entire.

"Seducers draw in others in profound ways. We offer them the desires of their hearts, much to our own pleasure, as well as to the pleasure of the victims of our attentions. We are the enticers, the offerers of the benefits of evil. But also, we have a tendency towards hedonism, ourselves. And therein is our weakness, Laiel. We Seducers can so easily slide into distracting pleasure-seeking. Wasting our lives in such ways. It saddens me to see it. But it is the nature of Seducers. It is our trap, our weakness. When we are at our strongest, we are matchless social engineers. We are the gatherers of lost, dark souls. Many are they whose feet we have set down upon the left hand path.

"Which brings us to Provokers.

"Which brings us to you, Laiel.

"As I am sure that you have already realized, you, my brother, are a classic Provoker.

Shall I detail to you your own attributes?

I’m betting his answer to that is, ‘Yes.’

I shall!

Told ya so.

"Provokers are our scholars. They are our studious brothers and sisters, our learned ones. And they not only learn, they share their knowledge! In this way, they have earned the name Provoker. They do not simply learn and study, as you yourself are the sure proof of, Laiel. I have observed, with both interest and joy, your little trysts of adventurism. You know a great deal, and you apply your knowledge like a surgeon wielding a scalpel.

"Brother, you have been a sight to behold!

"Provokers disturb others to thought, using sense and reason. And doing so, Provokers such as you influence them toward our way of thinking. I do, of course, refer to the left hand path. Certainly, those you encountered and influenced to your service were never on the side of the angels. And just as surely, they acted ultimately out of their own self-interest, said interest being primarily greed.

"But, Laiel… think on it! You convinced others to join you on your great adventure, with promises of revenge, and payment. And all the while they knew the truly dire dangers into which you led them. You told them more than once! Neither ignorance nor innocence can be said to have been faults of theirs.

"It cannot truly be said that they were either sane or insane… but they were at least sane enough to understand what it was that they were doing, and to whom it was that they were giving their allegiance.

"Yet you convinced them to do it all, anyway.

"And how many of them died serving you, may I ask?

But that is a rhetorical question.

Go ahead fucker, twist the knife, why dontcha?

"Can I ask you something else, brother? Oh, of course I can! Did you really consider any of them friends? Were you truly that foolish, that sentimental? It is hard for me to imagine that you were so, on either count. Yet what I have observed speaks somewhat to the contrary.

"But all of this is simply more rhetorical fodder.

"You see now why you are down there, and I am up here, my brother? It is not only that I am the Elect of our Father. And it is not simply that I see the marks of true power and competence within you.

"It is because you and I are so very much alike.

"Different sides of the same shape.

"Mine is an emotional appeal, yours, intellectual.

The woman who took you, Laiel, is named Dorothy Parker. If you had not already divined, allow me to enlighten you. She also is of the Children of Perdition.

I did not know that.

"It’s true! She is our mutual sister, though like most of our kind, while her origin is with our Father, she is the produce of a different, human, mother.

"And Laiel…

"…she is a Destroyer.

"See the unholy trinity that we make?

Provoker, Seducer, and Destroyer, my brother!

I’ve gotta call a full-stop here.

Did this fuck-tard just reduce the whole of the left hand path to the social dynamics of high school? Yes, he fucking did!

Stick with me for a second here and you’ll see what I mean.

You’ve got your Seducers, who are like your popular kids. They throw the best parties, and end up fucking each other in their parents’ upstairs bedrooms. Then there’s your Destroyers. Yep, the jocks. They’re big, they’re strong, and they like to fight, ‘cuz they’re all on the football, hockey, or wrestling team. Then there’s me, a Provoker. We’re the nerds of the group. Studying up after school, and always ready with a well-reasoned argument, because, hey, we’re all on the debate team.

What does he think is going on in the supernatural underground? The plot of a John Hughes movie from the 1980s?

I can’t believe this goofy bullshit.

My big brother just called me a nerd.

CHRIST, give me the strength to climb out of this hole and kick his ass…

"This is why I have gone to such lengths to press you into my service. If you have wondered why it is that I have not simply had you killed, my brother, it is because I have no desire to do so. Truly, I want you as both my ally, and my servant.

"But you require humbling, Laiel.

"And so, your current predicament.

"You must come to understand, and to know, that there can be nothing of any value that you might accomplish or possess that does not proceed from my Will. You must come to know, even in your heart of hearts, that I am the superior son of our Father. And knowing, you must bend the knee to me."

Fat fucking chance, MOTHERFUCKER.

"There is an overwhelming value within cooperation, Laiel. There is a hierarchy, my brother, even within the chaos of Hell. We must respect strength. Else we are crushed by it. I am the strongest of our kind. Come and serve me. The rewards are very great.

"I expect no decision at this moment.

"But very soon I shall…

"Now, let us shift our attentions once again. Let us consider for the moment, humanity. Ah, such a wonder is the race of mankind. Such a marvelous host of beauties. They are beings of law and chaos, lovers of life and death at the same time, and Laiel, I love them dearly!

"Yes, it’s true!

"I am the one true savior of mankind.

"I, and I alone, stand to gift humanity with the deepest desires of their hearts. I, and I alone, am empowered through our Father to bring down the every contradictory nuance of their true nature, and harmonize it.

"And it is I, and I alone, who stand to govern humanity.

"Read the scriptures of the Christians, Laiel. It is spoken of plainly. The laws of God will end with the condemnation to eternal damnation of the vast majority of humanity. The Book refers to the rebellious ones at the final battle as so numerous that they will be like the grains of sand by the sea.

"Laiel, you and I and our sister offer an alternative to this.

"There is a desire within the human heart for immortality. They long for eternity. They know the life of the Earth, and no other. They have no widespread recollection of any existence before their own lives, despite what some spiritualists might claim. Reincarnation! What a ridiculous presumption! It is nothing more than a clumsy reach for eternity. You must see that, my brother.

"It makes no sense at all. Belief in it challenges the idea of any sort of rationally constructed universe. What? Each and every person alive has lived before, but almost none of them harbors any recollection whatsoever of any past life? And despite this, they are being either punished or rewarded for deeds that they performed in other lives, when they were other people, when they do not even remember doing those things at all?

"Preposterous!

"But so strong is the longing for eternity that humanity has disseminated widely such ideas. But you and I know the truth of it, do we not, my brother?

"The truth is this– The universe is not so clumsily made as that!

"The core of earthly religion reveals a further truth. They espouse pessimism about the Earth, and optimism toward Heaven, whatever form the particular religion chooses to envision ‘Heaven’ as. A good way to judge any religion is to consider what it says about human death.

"Unable to understand the scope of life and death, humanity attempts many explanations. They tend to come to the conclusion that that which is spiritual, the ‘soul,’ is superior to that which is physical. And the earthly religions of the right hand path most clearly bear this mark. They preach denial of the pleasures of the flesh, and at the same time laud the purity of the spirit, all the while never seeing the plain contradiction that their own mythology provides.

"The fall of our comrades, the Demons, is the clearest sign of this.

"For the demons were created as beings of purely spiritual substance, yet they succumbed to corruption, and became the greatest progenitors of evil. If that which is spiritual were truly superior, more Good, more pure, than that which is physical, then the demons would never have fallen.

"Humanity are like children in their cry for Heaven.

"I have come to enact the grand earthly ritual of Infernal Salvation that shall betide their coming of age. The time is at hand where humanity shall truly put aside this childish desire for Heaven, and instead, as adults, they will claim the Earth.

"And it is I who will be the Master of the world.

"As it stands, so many of the great anthill of humanity reject the life of this world in favor of the hope for a heavenly, purely spiritual life in one paradise or another. In this they are self-destroying, for they are dying continuously in their rejection of life, even while they are alive.

"Let us for a brief moment consider the beliefs of the atheists.

"I say ‘for a brief moment,’ for that is all that is needed. They damn themselves, and ask for nothing in return. Thus, beings such as you and I have no reason to consider them at all. They hand us victory over them with no need for a fight of any kind. But I do laugh at them, Laiel.

"How often have I bent my ear to listen to them as they mewl out some foolish prayer in their dying. Many times, my brother, many times. I am proud of them, for they are liars of profound magnitude. Their capability for self-deception is truly prodigious. They believe that death is the sudden and irrevocable termination of human existence. Thus, death acquires an immense importance for them.

"But the truth of it is that all things are of one spirit, and of one flesh.

"Thus, the earthly existence is the only existence that is sensible for humanity.

"So many contradict this. They say that the human soul is divine, and that it is sent down by God from Heaven, to inhabit the earthly body, as if it were put in a prison to subsequently be escaped from.

"But this also makes no sense.

"What? Does the Divinity send souls down from what is better, Heaven, to what is worse, the earthly existence of the body, where the soul risks damnation? No. They are wrong, so very wrong. The purpose of humanity is to claim the Earth, and live upon it forever, as flawed, imperfect beings.

"A gift that our Father empowers me to offer to them.

"And at so small of a cost.

"Their immortal souls.

"Humanity are not strangers to this world, Laiel.

"But our kind, we Sons and Daughters of Perdition, are.

"Our mortality, our lives, and our bodies, come from our human mother. But our divinity, our souls, are borne of the Devil. Hence, we are not natural to the Earth, as other women and men are, for the Earth was created as a home for humanity.

"This is no disadvantage, however.

"Instead, it bestows upon us many gifts. I was greatly bemused when I first heard of you referring to this as a ‘Benefits Package.’ All of us are mighty beings, it is true. But we do not all enjoy either the same gifts, nor the same magnitude of gifts.

"In short, there are greater, and lessers among us.

"I, of course, am the greatest of all.

"But you, Laiel, are quite impressive yourself.

"We shall speak of the generality of our kind. We are wondrous things, we children of the Devil. We have such amazing attributes, of the physical, mental, and spiritual nature.

"As to our physical bodies, we enjoy many advantages over our mundane counterparts in the ranks of humanity. We are extremely long-lived, and some few of us are ageless. Yes, Laiel, some of the Children of Perdition are immortal. Although they seldom realize it, for our kind so often die by violent encounters before surviving long enough to suspect the truth of such a thing about themselves.

"Laiel… you are immortal."

Fuck. I did not know that…

"There is more!

"You cannot have failed to notice that you never become ill in any way. Our kind enjoy complete immunity from every form of sickness or ailment that plagues humanity. And our bodies are resistant, though not immune, to the ravages of heat and flame. No need for wondering why that is so, eh?

"We are also able to see in the dark. Oh, this is not simply good nightvision. It is a gift borne of our Father. It is supernatural in nature. We cannot see in absolute darkness, but we are truly the proverbial ‘Children of the Night,’ as it were.

"But all of this is of secondary consideration. Of primary importance when considering the nature of our physical gifts, is the fact that we are simply not powered by the same means as normal humans. A fact that you may or may not have already concluded yourself, Laiel. For the great mass of humanity, the action of life is purely biological in nature. They eat food, drink water, and breathe the air. In this way, the processes of their bodies are activated. They respirate, and digest, and thus does the body gain its energy.

"Not so for you and I, Laiel.

"The process of energy for us is pronouncedly different. Our kind does not rely so much on the matter of the universe for our continuance. Ours is an energetic existence. And the source of that energy is the great Inferno. We have the power of Hell within us. And that is what sustains our bodies. This also allows us to survive wounds that would easily kill others that lack our gifts. The internal energy of our lives is far less supported by flesh and blood, lungs, heart and the other structures of our bodies.

"We rely far less upon the exchange of matter for energy by the biological process of our bodies. This is the very reason that I have done this unkind thing to you, my brother.

"Because you cannot die of it.

"But gazing upon you, I can see that the suffering is very great.

"…as I intended for it to be.

"As I told you earlier, you need humbling. And I have found nothing more humbling upon the Earth or in Hell as suffering. So I have afflicted you thusly. You can suffer excruciating agonies of deprivation. You are starved well beyond the point of mortal death. You are parched so severely that even the water of a hundred men would not have preserved you. You have been left in the cold of the dark to waste and wither.

And a day will come where you will thank me for all of this.

Yep. Just before I cut your fucking head off.

"This brings me to the second consideration of our attributes. Our mental abilities. We are not truly human, Laiel. One might guess that being born of a mortal woman and the Devil that we are ‘half human.’ But that is grossly wrong. We are not ‘half’ anything. When the Devil makes a child with a human woman, the result is a unique, third kind of being.

"Our kind, my brother.

"We are the Children of Perdition.

And while the gifts of our supernatural bodies are wondrous indeed, it is within our minds and our spirit that our true power lies. We range in intellectual capacity. A certain truth. I have met true dullards among our siblings, Laiel. A thing that I am sure is of no surprise to you.

Not at all. I’m looking up at one of ‘em right now.

"But each and every one of us, from the lowest of simpletons, to the true intellectual giants such as you and I, have within them a Will that is nearly unmatched by normal humanity. A difficult thing to understand. How can the great mass of humanity comprehend this profound power? How do we, the strong, relate our strength to them, the weak?

"I tell you a secret thing now, Laiel.

"Will is the coin that buys all else. With Will, other weaknesses are ameliorated, and strengths are forged to ever greater heights. Are you slow in your mind, but full of the terrible Will? Read. Learn. Be patient. Understanding will blossom. Is your body soft and weak, and have you no gift for the physical humors? Again, apply the Will. Be slow, and patient. Practice, and never stop. You will grow stronger. This principle applies to all things, at all times.

"Lacking any singular attribute, but possessing sufficient Will, any being can overcome the lacking, and know victory. This is why that peculiar trait of ours, this indomitable Will within our minds, is such an immense thing. If it were the only gift of our infernal heritage, it would still be enough to ensure our supremacy over the Earth.

"Which brings me neatly to our spiritual nature.

"Our souls are not the same as the souls of ordinary women and men. They are things of the Inferno. The source of all our power, and our most marked difference. Having these infernal souls we cannot be damned, for we are born as such. Our corruption is both inherited and inherent.

"But being damned is no tragedy for our kind.

"We are royalty in Hell, not the tormented.

"We are elevated by damnation, not brought low.

As I stand to elevate you now, Laiel.

Just far enough for me to aim a kick at your balls.

That’s high enough for me.

"But what of our numbers, and our overall effect upon the Earth? Allow me to reveal some things that I am sure you are unaware of. The first is a simple statistic. The second proceeds from the first. It is the profound implications of that statistic.

"The first– There are around ten thousand of our kind alive upon the Earth at this time. If that number seems either shockingly low or high to you, it should not. I have heard that you yourself have said, ‘My Father does a lot of fucking.’ It is true. Our Father is a being of immense power. Time and space are like children’s toys for Him. He has made sure that His progeny are spread to all of the dark corners of the Earth… and beyond.

"And He is always watching His children, and testing them. He tests us for signs of weakness, as now, through me, you are tested. Those who prove themselves fools, He makes away with."

Well, looking up from down here, obviously, one got by Him.

"Now, for the second. It is this– Our presence in this universe is an aberration. We were never intended to exist at all. And the very presence of our power is like a distortion. Imagine reality as a pool of water, Laiel. Now, throw in a stone!

"See the ripples that you have made there.

"That is what our presence is like upon the Earth.

"We cause ripples in time and space. We distort the very fabric that sits upon the loom of fate. Our power is a dissonant note sounded out against the music of the spheres. It is magical in nature. Due to this, the ripples that we cause manifest in supernatural ways.

"Our presence gives rise to evil impulses in others. Murder, and all manner of iniquity super-abound at our passing. Black magic becomes more prevalent, more powerful, by merit of our mere proximity. We even cause monsters to be created. The emanations of our evil can warp animals, and even people. Transformation can result.

"The crusaders against evil are ever-failing due to our existence.

"They cannot purge the monsters and magic from the world. They can never succeed at wiping out the covens. They cannot bring light to the darkness. For the darkness comes alive with us, ever growing, ever renewed. Even if we do nothing, Laiel, we are continually defeating them. Our existence, our mere presence, is the surety.

"And when we gather in numbers, the ripples play upon each other. The magical distortions of our presence become enlarged. Ripples become waves, waves become tidal, tides rise fearsomely, drowning and swamping. Sense and reason are submerged, and chaos rises up.

"We are the end of the Earth, Laiel. Our kind are the Armageddon made flesh.

"I was once present at a gathering of nine of us.

"I cannot describe with words what mighty things were done there. I can only say that Evil itself was born anew, and walked to and fro, devouring matter and energy into itself, then to emanate animate abomination, to be in turn loosed upon the world.

"Now here we are, Laiel, you and I together. And nearby is our sister.

"Let’s talk about you now, shall we, Laiel?"

I’d rather not. But it doesn’t look like I’m in the fucking driver’s seat right at the moment, now does it?

I have discovered a great deal about you, Laiel.

Oh shit. That’s not good…

"Still, there is a great deal that I do not know. I admit, what I do not know of you is surely of little consequence. If it were not, I would certainly have come to know all of it, one way or another.

"But where shall I start? The beginning you say? Very well…

"You grew up poor, Laiel. Very poor. Your mother was beautiful, but that did not save her from facing the fate of virtual slavery as a factory worker. In your youth you were exceptionally bright, but the treatment you endured at the hands of your classmates sapped your desire to succeed. Still, despite that, you spent many idle hours reading, and learning.

"Even then you knew that you were not weak and fragile, as the other boys your age took you for being. You were, in fact, a cut above all of them. Yet you found no meaningful way to express your natural advantages.

"In your teenaged years you were suddenly able to sense magical things.

"And it drove you insane.

"You were hospitalized. In fact, you were put into an insane asylum.

"You endured three years of torments there.

Electroconvulsive therapy. I am sure you will never forget the touch of the lightning that you suffered, as the clumsy doctors tried foolishly, and in vain, to ‘cure’ you.

No, I won’t ever forget it. But thanks for reminding me. You fucker.

"At last, you discovered a book of magic in the library of the asylum. A fool’s thing, really. Published by a mass-market company. But it contained just enough real knowledge within its yellowed pages to set you upon the left hand path. You yourself did not believe at first that you were actually doing the things that you were doing.

"But presently, there could be no doubt.

"You had no need of escaping the asylum. You left of your own accord. You had convinced your wardens that you were no danger to yourself or others. Nothing of the sort was true, of course. When you left that place, you had become truly dangerous for the first time in your life.

"Surprisingly, you returned to the world of academia. You graduated with a high school diploma from a night school. And then you went on to the University of Illinois, graduating at the age of twenty-seven with a Masters degree, in 1974.

"Yes, you are older than you appear to be, Laiel.

"But I suspect you did all of this with an ulterior motive.

"You had a grand plan, didn’t you, my brother?

I am proud to recount it.

He knows too much. I mean, a lot too much.

"Your career in higher education had a very specific goal. A very nefarious goal. You formulated your plan, and then you carried out its execution beautifully. First of all, Laiel, I know what it is that you truly are…"

Oh, shit. He’s going to ‘out’ me here, the fucking asshole!

"You are a Librarian, Laiel.

"It’s true! You have a Masters degree in library science. You! One of the most dangerous men prowling the supernatural underground, are in truth a tame shusher of unruly children, who worked shoulder to shoulder with gray-haired old women!

You always felt yourself most comfortable surrounded by books and quietude, didn’t you, brother?

Yeah? So what of it, you asshole?

"You spent ten years as a jobbing librarian in Boston, Massachusetts. I wonder if your resolve ever wavered during that decade-long stretch of time. I wonder if you ever considered abandoning your grand plan?

"I doubt that you did.

"Yours is a profound personality. A profound Will.

"There was a prize to be taken, and no matter of time or tide, you would have it!

I admire you, Laiel.

I don’t give a fuck, dickhead.

"I’m certain you used magic to grease the gears of your plan, and eventually, you got your way. You were offered a job at what is perhaps the greatest library extant in the world to this day. The British Library. The national library of the United Kingdom, and the biggest library in the world. You were taken on as a low-level archivist. But that hardly mattered.

"What mattered to you was that you were there, and you could study in detail almost the entire institution, at your will.

"Take note that I say almost the entire institution.

"For the places within that library that you could not study were the very reason that you were there.

"Few know, but the British Library has a secret archive.

"Treasures and wonders have been collected for centuries, and hidden away there. A thief able to gain entry would find himself fantastically wealthy with what they could carry out with them concealed in their pants pockets alone.

"But it was of course not earthly wealth that you were after.

"No.

"You are a librarian, so you wanted books.

"And books are what you ultimately stole.

"The secret archives of the British Library are underground. Their construction is circular in nature. There are four sections to it, and they are set up as a series of concentric rings, like a great hidden bullseye, in reverse.

"I say ‘in reverse,’ because as you well know, Laiel, they are reached by a deeply sunken vertical shaft. And descending, one finds himself at the center of the four rings. In this way each of the progressively larger outer rings are both better protected, and the storage place of increasingly valuable treasures.

"There are many traps and guardians throughout the secret archive, and these of course become the more deadly as one proceeds. The better to protect what is hidden away there.

"That was your plan, Laiel.

"Your first great adventure.

"You raided that archive, and made away with a limitless fortune in magical books and ephemera. I know that you were able to successfully penetrate the first three rings of the archive. An act of unmatched thievery, cleverness, and magical skill.

The fourth proved your better, however, and you left without having looted it.

Wrong… wrong… WRONG!

I got into all four of the rings of the secret archive. Shows what he knows.

Wait a minute… That means that even if he knows what was in there, and that’s a big if, he doesn’t think that I got a hold of any of it.

I’m seeing an epic ass-fucking on your horizon, me to you, big brother.

Mark my motherfucking words.

"A more impressive act of magical and mundane skullduggery one struggles to imagine.

"From that brazen act of betrayal and thievery you garnered great power. What you stole there that night was the beginnings of your true career as a sorcerer of truly epic knowledge and power.

"Once again, I applaud you, my brother!

"So, it is for all of these reasons that I am extending my hand down to you, figuratively, if not yet literally, and hoping that you will be my servant, and my ally.

"Say nothing now!

"I will allow you time to consider my offer.

"Ah! Do you hear that? Gunfire…

"Splendid!

"Your coven has arrived to ‘rescue’ you.

"Harbor no concerns. My servants are properly instructed. They will make an effort not to kill all of the members of your coven. But for now I must say goodbye to you, and wish you well in the days and nights that are to come. And when we inevitably meet again, I hope it is heralded by a warm embrace… and not the alternative.

"I will say but one thing more to you before I make my disappearance from this place. Mark all else I have said to you as lies and the tools of deception, cleverly employed, if that is what suits you. But in this last, I hope that you feel the true sincerity which compels these last words from me.

I love you, my brother.

And then he was gone.

Then I saw a light.

And there were voices.

My coven.

I’m tellin’ you, that last quarter of an hour or so, alone, down in the dark, before they came and got me out, were maybe worse for me than the entire year that came before.

And, maybe that was all a part of his plan.

Because, I could feel the sincerity of his final words to me.

Oh, I’m still gonna kill him.

But, he’s my brother.

And, dammit if he wasn’t right about pretty much everything.

So, this—

I love you too, brother.

two

The Warlock stepped from blessed darkness into damnable light.

He was in a public park. The hour of midnight. The place was deserted. Truly, there was not a soul in sight, for the only man present had lost his own soul long ago.

He was all but hobbled.

The dark man walked slowly. His back was bent. His breath came in hard gasps. His bones ached within him. He felt tired beyond the limits of weariness. It was as if his body were suddenly old. As old as the centuries that he had lived.

He walked beyond the boundaries of the park. A sidewalk, bathed in the weak yellow light of high street lamps. He looked left and right, seeing only what was near at hand, his senses as stricken as his body. A bench. The Warlock made his way to it, almost limping. He sat down there, almost falling upon it. The seat gave him no comfort.

The Warlock stopped his thoughts, and next he did a thing that he had not done in over a hundred years. He quietly wept. The tears were bitter, full of the acid of true hate. And his odium came down upon the very act of his weeping itself. He hated himself for venting the tears.

But it was a thing not entirely his own, and so he gave it its time.

The boy… that damnable boy, he had pulled up the past from out of the abyss of his soul and shown it to him. Certainly, he had had no idea of what he had done. But still, he had done it.

A sudden intrusion of light and sound seized his awareness. His head turned, without him even thinking about it. There were people nearby, he realized. He cursed himself inwardly for having let his awareness slip in so profound of a way. He was rattled, off-balance, and so he had been dreadfully unaware of his surroundings.

No matter. Even if they had seen him step out of nothingness, emerging from thin air itself, it wouldn’t have mattered. Those who fronted him now were the truly oblivious.

Young people.

A concert. They had gathered for the viewing of a musical concert, he realized. He knew that they had been there even before his arrival. One glance told him that. A long line of people at the entrance of some bar, or nightclub. They were happy, and raucous, and he hated them for it. Some errant thought, some evil impulse in the back of his mind hovered, waiting for his attention. But he set it aside for the moment, for he was not ready to deal with others. He was not yet done dealing with himself.

He found himself suddenly possessed of a singular feeling. A feeling that reached within him, and first squeezed his heart, then went further, to choke his very soul.

The Warlock felt as if his time were growing short.

The man of the utterdark slowly closed his eyes and let the rising tide of memory drown him. A thankless, accursed thing. But a thing of himself, and so he knew, it would have its way.

Then

I should have never taught you to write!

His words might have seemed harsh, but the tone was not. He was bemused.

People should know about what’s happening! his sister protested.

He could only smile at her. She really thought that all of this mattered. That a year, ten years, a hundred years from now, people would still care. But he knew the truth of it. It was just another zealot, like the ones before, and the ones that would undoubtedly come after, rousing the hearts, then to be quickly forgotten.

So, another fool is baptising people at the river. It’s the same as last year, and the year before that…

"Lazarus!’ she exclaimed, her tone playfully scolding.

Martha! he replied, mocking her voice.

What’s the harm in it? she asked, not looking at him. Looking, instead, at the scroll that she bent over. Scriiitch went the stylus as she wrote.

A waste of time… he said in a low voice.

Don’t you have something else to do? she asked.

Actually, I do, he said. Then he gathered an empty bag and hefted a leather pouch with a few coins in it. His intent was obvious. The market.

Get bread! she called after him as he went out the door.

The market.

Noisy. Smelly. A press of people. He hated it. He valued his privacy. He would retreat into a world of only himself and his sisters, if he could. But that was impossible. There was the world, and he was in it. He could not separate himself. Could not, would not, separate from his sisters. He was theirs, and they were his. There was no other truth.

He had lied to Martha.

It was not like it had been.

There were the Jews, he himself among them, and there were the Romans. There had always been wild Wise Men. Prophets and Seekers. They mostly went