Through my eyes are the peoples of the world. I see them, at night, lying in their beds within the structures that spread over the earth. As if transparency were the walls containing them, I can find them, isolate them, and extract them in my mind, plucking them one by one between the fingers of my hand. Some are significant while others not as much, but they all occupy the space of awareness, the intellectual habitat of desire and emotion. Each of their minds paint a different picture of the world and a different variation of what the world should be. Which minds should be saved; which minds are expendable. Thank goodness I have not such power to choose.
Archive for the ‘The Augur’s Scroll’ Category
A noble came to me the other day. She was adamant about being released from a turmoil she could not plainly describe. When she arrived, her hair was a mess and her eyes were red and dry; she looked as if she had not slept for days. Before she even explained her situation, she begged me uncontrollably to free her from “the beast of blame.”
I sat her in my study and attempted to decipher just what her problems were, but at first I had less than any luck. My only answers came when I showed her my principality index—a collection of detailed, artistic reproductions of all the spiritual creatures I had encountered.
When the image of the exipham came before her, she slipped abruptly into a violent panic, which I quickly subdued with the use of a relaxant I kept on hand. Once she recovered, she was much more able to communicate with me.
The exipham, first of all, is a being not unlike a pig in characteristic, though it holds many qualities similar to that of a goat. When it appears to someone, it always proposes an agreement or deal. It offers an item of material or societal wealth for something of great intrinsic value. During this bargain, the exipham uses psychological tactics—typically the recollection of a horrible wrongdoing or a great sin—to inhibit the victim from seeing the true value in the item it desires. It then convinces the victim of his or her need of its own item, and carries out the trade.
It was questions about such things that I asked the noble. She was brief in response and even firmer with delivery. As my questions engaged her, she realized I would learn not only how to free her, but how she came to be in bondage in the first place—what the sin was that the exipham utilized.
I ended the session by reprimanding her for any dealings she might have undergone with the exipham and that she must be firm from then on, but I later found out that it was already too late. She had poisoned herself by the afternoon of the next day. Around her neck was a glittering diamond necklace and her baby, which she had only recently had, had been taken in exchange.
To think that such personal evil can devour the sense of reason. I pitied the noble for whatever the exipham preyed upon, but I was content that there was nothing left to be done.
I have seen the woman dressed in violet. She came to me, suddenly, in my mind, and devoured my intelligence of judgment. With movements soft as slow moving water, she turned me against myself, indulging my nightmares with the promiscuity of the nations. I became the choice of kings—one small piece of the so many broken crowns.
It was through the woman dressed in violet that I was awakened to the evil behind my eyes—behind all eyes. It was in her that my faith was reborn stronger than the unseen presence of sound. If even time itself had ordered my transformation, it would not have had as unmatched potential. I knew of what this woman represented, but I did not know about her; I did not know of the violating weights that she carried and the burden she delivered.
This sight of twisted beauty was not a sight seen but once; it had come and gone through many generations, passing from father to son and so forth on. But there still can be no warning of what awaits. Glimpses of the eventual may be seen, but the exacting happening will tell the tale that requires no listening ear.
I witnessed the star fall in the distance. I saw how it dropped low on the horizon, disappearing beneath the ocean before curving back around and out for but an instant, then vanishing away forever. There was nothing like it; nothing could be more surreal.
The wars were on my mind at that time—how strange that might be—but not the wars of this world. Beyond the black curtain of what is, I have looked, and there is much more out there—much more than what is. There are things that are not that are just as real, just as significant—maybe even more so.
It glowed brightly too, that star, as if it was meant to be seen. I felt as if something was revealed to me and only me. The peculiarity of its pattern and sudden change of direction were foreign to me; could such a mass, or any moving body of the outer realms, navigate such a monstrosity of absurd flight? How preposterous was it? With my own eyes, I witnessed this cosmic incident.
I have hope that I will one day understand such occurrences more fully—perhaps when I am not as concerned with what is, I will be more open let those unseen, secret folds of space and time transcend upon me.