The Blood Book

The Blood Book
Tales, Confessions and Rumors of the Worlds
Ba’aL
High Priest and Lover of Marsuuv
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Born of Black and White
Eaten with worms
Im a saint a sinner
A Siren of the Word
The Circle knows me
The rest just wanna trip
On Grace juice baby
I am baal
Who was billos
Who was billy
Three in one
One in three
Slain by choice
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The Blood Book of Ba’al
High Priest of the Horde
Writings Contained Herein:
Segment One -- The Beings
L – The Shataiki
LL – The Roush
LLL – The Albino
Segment Two – The Blood Books
L – My Secret History
LL – Thomas of Hunter
LLL – Marsuuv, Queen of the Shataiki
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The Secret Nature of the Blood Book:
Ba’al, humble servant of the divine Queen, my Lord
and eternal lover of my soul, Marsuuv.
No matter how skilled a man might be, he can never
unravel the truth of this world alone. What lies beneath its
brittle skin is beyond the sight of any one man.
The truth lingers like a phantom; it hides in plain view
and taunts the blindness of the simple and learned alike, of
fools and sages. Yet it can be glimpsed, though must be
seen from all sides to be perceived, and then not with eyes
that merely look—such is common to most men who are an
accursed lot, it reveals itself to eyes that see.
This is the account of my endeavor to uncover matters
of great mystery. This is my solemn charge. And so I
set out to gather an account of our world—of Shataiki, and
Roush, and Albino; of all beings holy and unholy.
To gather my wisdom I did commission the greatest
of warriors, Mustul, who I charged with gathering for me
three things hidden from the world. Go to the Black forest,
I commanded him, and bring me a Shataiki by whatever
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means that unseen creature might be attained to be examined
by our greatest alchemist.
Go to the forest and bring me one of those vile Roush
to that same end. Go to the Albino and bring me the
journals of Thomas of Hunter, so that I will know my
greatest enemy.
Mustul undertook these three missions with great courage
and I have set his account here, in this Blood Book.
I needed also the wisest of all alchemists to fully explore
Shataiki, Roush and Albino and so I chose Grushon,
Son of Molek.
I chose him because he is proven to be a man of
unmatched intellect and inexhaustible energy, a combination
that is rare for a man whose sojourn has been long in our
world. In addition, he is driven by something between
curiosity and madness, which is perhaps his greatest quality,
for not knowing the end of a matter becomes swallowed by
his obsession for it. Once fixed on a question, he will stop
at nothing to find the answer. It is this obsession that will no
doubt eventually be his end, most likely beneath the glow of his
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workbench lantern.
I set before Grushon a charge of primary focus: to
examine by whatever means required a full detail of those
creatures of our world, including all things scientific.
He was given a chamber of great size beneath the
city—far below the library where the moldering walls are
sufficient to swallow secrets and keep prying eyes outside.
I witnessed his handiwork over the course of many
months, the findings of which fill stack upon stack of vellum
within my private study and form the most complete record
of the races anyone has ever undertaken.
I’ve seen many a sunrise while reading and meditating
on of his findings, the most important excerpts of which I
have compiled here for personal reference. The complete
records will be sealed in my personal library.
The secrets contained herein are the means to life and
death and account for my own journey of understanding. Let
only they who dare read the words contained herein. Then,
when all is accounted for, all will know the nature of all things.
Baal--
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Segment 1
The Beings
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The Shataiki
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Penned in my own hand, Mustul
Here is penned the account of adventures great and
terrible undertaken in the service of the high priest,
Lord Ba’al.
I am Mustul, commander of the armies of the
north, General in the secret service to the Supreme
Commander, Lord Qurong, for the defense of the
kingdom. I speak the truth.
This quill burdens my hand with a weight heavier
than any blade for my testimony bears worth only
insofar as it honors the men whose spilt blood
purchased the victories documented on these
parchments. I am eyewitness to all of which I write
and pay tribute with my words to the memory of the
valiant dead:
Andras of the North,
Captain of the Mondor Legion
Kendrew of the North,
Commander of the Sitaro Division
Galtero of the South,
fearless in the Supreme Commander’s service
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And Hida of the West,
keeper of the Straits of Migdon.
I am convinced that the legends belong to the
mighty, and lore to the strong, to him who would
rather chase the dawn than take lovers and enslave
himself to the bitter drudgery common to husbands
and cattle. Such would be little more than a walking
death to any man of true heart.
Tis far better to seize fate by the throat in ones
youth and live, truly live, while tempting death viciously
than to surrender to a middling existence. Would
that all men could hold Deaths stare and grin in
the moment when they are run through by that vile
demons blade.
Yes, such a life is good. Such a life is true. Far
better than allowing the old specter to slither behind
unnoticed and slit you throat unawares.
For me, the east wind is a lover worth chasing and
the heavens stretched high above are shelter enough.
More than enough.
That is why men will speak well of me as they do
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the men of renown, warriors worthy of our esteem such
as Woref and Jantal and Martyn, and why women and
children will sing my epics long after I am once again
made dust.
I am a man of action. I bear the scars of two
lifetimes. I have suffered the blades and arrows of more
battles than I can recount.
I stacked the dead as cordwood with my own
hands at Natalga Gap after the mountains rained
upon my kinsmen, toppled by the cunning of Thomas of
Hunter. I have faced that cunning fox and have been
bested by him.
I have plunged into battle shoulder to shoulder
with men such as Woref and was trained by the mighty
hand of Martyn himself, for whom I was scribe and
servant until he perceived in me the seed of a warrior
and coaxed it to fruition through his wisdom and
patience. More than teacher and student, we have
been brothers, kindred souls.
Yes, hear me well, I have lived. And I will yet live.
And conquer. My namesake bears my soul’s mark,
strong fisted one, and this is my tale. All of it.
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It began beneath the pale harvest moon. I was
summoned urgently to the royal palace during the
witching hour. I cinched my cloak and made haste
through the long shadows of the city’s great square
to where the temple stands. There a man in flowing
black robe ushered me through the great hall to a
staircase concealed behind thick tapestries bearing the
royal crest.
By torchlight we descended a dank spiral of stone,
the steps falling away into the bowels of the temple.
Of this place I was unaware though I was not surprised
by their existence.
At bottom, a single door of great heft and ancient
in appearance stood open into a chamber. I followed the
man into the dimly lit room. With a bow at the waist,
the servant took his leave and I found myself alone
with the priest.
The man stood on the far side of the room,
motionless, with his back to me. He gazed upon three
inverted crosses fashioned of metal. Each held a
singular candle as thick as a man’s arm, slowly dripping
on the stone floor. A stone table separated us and
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filled the middle of the chamber. A dark patina
discolored the table only as lifeblood can.
````You are Mustul, said the priest without
turning.
“Your servant comes as commanded,” said I.
`This was the first time I had seen him for myself.
Even beneath the scant candlelight that licked at
the walls his stature was clear. He was built more like
a soldier than the slight men of the temple I had seen
before whose spines and wills are equally brittle.
“I could not be sure that you would come,said he
and turned to face me. He stood among the shadows,
though it is hard to say where the darkness began
and he ended, they seemed as one.
I offered my knee to him in humble reverence, but
he bade me sit at the stone table. He sat opposite me
with hood drawn. Not once did I see his eyes, nor was
it required. Some men need no eyes to see.
The priest then spoke to me of a great and mighty
epic, which would require the unflinching skill and
diligence of a seasoned warrior. Suffering, he told me,
was assured and agonizing death all but certain.
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“You won’t return, said he. If you do, it will be only
because others did not.”
The mission: hunt and retrieve a mythological
creature such as has been long rumored and rarely
seen by our people. The creature known as shataiki.
Phantoms of the past, but which he swore yet live
many days journey from Qurongi City. This he had seen
with his own eyes, said he.
The priest was in need of such a creature for a
documenting, which he would soon undertake provided
that one could be taken, which none had for their
capture relied on the ability to see what cannot be
seen.
“How can a man capture that which he cannot
see?” I asked.
He spoke of an elixir strong and mysterious,
concocted of blood and enlivened by unholy ritual that
opens the eyes of man for a time. Such was my first
charge: to retrieve it from the depths of the Black
Forest, from a labyrinth beneath a black lake.
Thrice Lord Ba’al had sent men on this quest, he
said. Twice none returned, and the last stumbled home
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with flesh shredded to the bone and driven to stark
madness. I had heard of this man and how, I am told,
gashes and wounds appeared as if from an unseen hand.
Great sorcery of unspeakable evil was involved, I am
told. He died two days later, raving about an unseen
beast that he said hung on the ceiling above him
awaiting his death.
That was thirteen days previous, he told me. “
If you would take the challenge and succeed, great
riches and honor will be yours. A detachment of six,
warriors of your own choosing, will be at your command
as well as your choice of His Eminence’s armory and
stables.”
“Keep your gold,”said I, for I have no need of
coins. But I will capture this creature and avenge the
blood of the fallen. Then I will return to the desert
and my men if I will be released.”
“You will encounter a magnificent and terrible god
within the Forest’s Deep,” said the priest to me.
“The Queen Marsuuv. Find favor with him and he
will give you a potion which will open the eyes of men
beyond the forest. Use it to capture the unseen,
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both Roush and Shataiki and then bring them to
me.”
Long into the night the Lord Ba’al spoke many
words of the nature of the forest itself and what
manner of beasts dwell within it. Then he blessed me
and bestowed upon me provisions, including a large vellum
upon which was drawn a map to our destination and the
door which guarded the labyrinth. Also given me was
a pendant of tarnished brass, a grotesque serpent with
wings, as I have seen within the city.
“Gain entry with this amulet,” said he. “The beasts
will not come near it for it is the seal of Marsuuv.
Lose it and you will surely die. Hold it high as you
enter the wood. It belongs to the Queen and it may
gain you safe passage. At least into the lair. Once you
enter, your life is in Marsuuv’s hands.”
I gathered my men and set about loading supplies for
our journey. I chose the most trustworthy of men and
we saddled only that which we could carry on ourselves
should we be forced to flee on foot.
As the blood orange sun split the horizon, we set
out. Toward the Black Forest. Toward death.~
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We made the Gulch in two and a half days and
there scouted the area from a spine of stone, which
arched out of the sand like a great Leviathan’s
backbone. The Priest had marked its place on the
vellum as the forest’s edge. From henceforth, said he,
one must walk forward in faith until the place reveals
itself.
We squinted, all of us, and saw only desolation to
the horizon. Not a scrub brush could we see let alone
a forest. Ripples of heat danced above the sands.
Nothing more.
“Follow close,”I warned. “The forest will make itself
known upon our approach.” Of this the Priest was
sure, that the place could not be seen until we stood
within the dragon’s mouth.
I took my sword in hand and urged my steed
forward. It was unsettled as was I. Trouble was near. The
men could sense it as well.
It took no more than a hundred paces to discover
the truth in the Priest’s words. For there, in an
instant, the sand and rocks gave way to mud and shale
beneath us. Around us, not ahead, a vast tangle of
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ink black forest rose up from the desert floor as if
appearing from a dream.
I say it rose, though it certainly did not. In a
moment it was not there, and then it was. It simply
appeared, a formidable and impenetrable place of despair.
I spun in the saddle and thought certainly that my
eyes deceived me for there in the distance stood the
dunes. But how was it so?
I nudged my steed in a circle and patted its neck
to calm it. The world around us had been plunged into
darkness and it had grown strangely still. Though the
sun was yet high in the sky, all was as twilight.
“Hold, men! Keep your wits!”said I. “I don’t know
what manner of sorcery this is, but we will meet it.”
As one, they watched at the ready, blades drawn.
Forward. Cautiously, we urged the horses along a trail
that could scarcely be seen underfoot for a strange
black mist curled and floated just above the ground. It
did not roll as fog might, but slithered and swirled as if
alive and hunting prey.
Blackened trees draped in long strings of dark
moss clawed up from the ground. Though leafless they
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allowed no light through. Ahead, the ribbon of path
disappeared into the wood and a darkness as black as
pitch.
We were being watched, of this I was certain. The
horses sensed the bats’ presence first and were greatly
vexed. Perhaps they had seen them as well.
There wasn’t a sound, nor movement of any kind.
Like the silent din of a conquered battlefield, the
forest betrayed the presence of Death passing by
Then the forest pulsed, shuddered. An uneven
breeze, which carried with it the scent of maggoty
meat, foul and rancid, blew among us. It was no wind,
I knew, but the stirring of a host of Shataiki that
clung to the trees, somewhere unseen.
Then the beasts revealed themselves, red eyes among
the darkness and yet were at once part of it. They
numbered more than the stars on a clear desert night
and hemmed us on every side. Deep into the woods in
all directions the wicked eyes glowed. I tell you now,
the eyes of death wax red as blood.
An unearthly cry from somewhere deep in the wood
resounded and they at once took flight with the roar
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of a violent wind unleashed.
“Form up!” I cried. “Hold until you are certain of
the strike.”
The men circled the horses in an instant, back
to back such that we could face our enemy and
force them to meet us from the front. But I knew
it would not matter. Can a man contain the sea in a
cup? Such would be this battle if the beasts chose
to fight. They were many and we were few.The beasts
erupted from the trees in waves of darkness and
descended upon us with great fury, with the sound of
gnashing and terrible screams. They hurled their bodies
upon us and slashed with talons that shredded armor
and flesh as if they were nothing.
I reached into my saddlebag and gripped the
priest’s amulet. With a great cry I thrust my fist high
into the air as if the amulet would call forth lightning
from the heavens. But none came. A Shataiki, foul
and strong, ripped at my arm. I grabbed the beast by
the snout and hurled it to the ground. As I did, the
amulet was ripped from my grasp and disappeared among
the mist.
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I turned to yell the retreat, but it was too late.
The way was shut. The forest had closed in upon itself.
The desert had vanished and we were alone. Trapped.
With great abandon, we swung our blades at the
mangy creatures as they swirled around us. They did not
swarm as one, but instead circled as groups of ten and
twenty fell upon each man, as if the beasts were taking
turns at making sport of us.
I do not know how long we fought. Minutes at
most. The crush was suffocating, more than we could
bear.
I looked over my shoulder as Galtero fell from his
horse, which had disappeared beneath the crush of
thirty or more of the beasts that had brought it
viciously to the ground. He rolled to his right, pushed
to one knee but was met with ten more beasts that
brought him to the dust and stripped the flesh from
him while he yet screamed. His voice faded to silence
before I could turn my horse to lay waste to the
beasts. Dead.
Overwhelmed by the vicious attack, Andras too
succumbed to the beasts as did Kendrew who lay
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pinned beneath his felled steed. He fought valiantly for
moments before disappearing beneath a swarm of the
bats.
A cry went up. I turned toward Hida who lay
slumped upon his horse, lifeless, with several of the
beasts feeding upon him. I looked down and slammed the
hilt of my sword into a foul beast that had sunk its
teeth deep into my thigh. I ripped its crushed skull
from my leg and spun as two others plunged toward me.
Romul’s blade came to my rescue and caught the
first. My own cleaved the second beast in two as its
jaws stretched wide. Its carcass fell to the ground and
there was ravaged by its own kind.
Into the wood, I cried to Romul and Arium at my
side side. Stay close. Do not look back. If we’re to
die then let the demons earn their meal.
We turned our horses toward the uncertain
darkness of the wood. We did not have to coax them
forward. No, their fear was sufficient to convince.
Thus, we plunged into the darkness. Bleeding. Dying.
Hopeless.
The pounding of hooves upon shale and the drum of
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blood in my ears was all I could hear, as a man hears
underwater. Muffled. Slow. Distant. I trusted my
steed to lead wherever its instincts might lead. I merely
gripped the reins and leaned forward.
Soon, the earth beneath us fell away in a steep
slope. The horses slowed and I glanced behind to see
Romul and Arium close, pushing hard to keep their
steeds moving.
Strangely, there was no sign of pursuit from the
bats. Perhaps they were sufficiently satisfied with
their kills to care about us. Perhaps the creatures
reluctance to give chase meant that a snare surely lay
ahead or that they themselves were afraid of what lay
in wait further in the forest. Both surely meant our
deaths.
The trail turned hard to the right. My horse
leaned, began to lose its footing on the soft ground,
and as it regained its legs was hit by an unknown force.
The sound of trees snapping filled the air. I knew it was
not trees breaking, but the horse’s legs.
I lurched forward, carried by momentum headlong
over the steed as it crumbled beneath me. Midair, I
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loosed my blade so as not to run myself through and
landed against the stone ground with such force that
the world grew dim.
The jagged earth bit into my shoulder and ripped
cloth and flesh as I rolled. Alas I slid to a halt in the
midst of the trail. And there I lay for the briefest of
moments with face pressed against the ground, sucking
at breath.
Straight away I pushed to a knee and drew my
boot blade, for I sensed a fight at hand. My sense of
dread was answered by a creature of such evil visage
that I rose to my feet before the world had righted
itself. I stumbled back, blade at the ready though a
feeble defense it surely would have been.
The beast stood in the middle of the path like a
wraith king triumphant. It was a bat like the others,
yet much larger. His fur was as black as the grave and
the beast’s velvet wings wrapped its body like a death
shroud.
Romul and Arium pulled their steeds to a halt
short of the gnarled tree that had claimed my horse.
It lay across the path, nearly invisible in its blackness.
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They dismounted and, swords at the ready, climbed
over the tree and the suffering beast, which panted in
great anguish.
The Shataiki made no attempt at retreat. It had
no need for we were no doubt at its mercy. I motioned
for the men to hold. They stopped, swords still high.
After a long moment, the demon spoke. “You have
wandered far from home, scab, it snarled.”
I have come on a quest to speak with the Queen
Marsuuv, lover of Ba’al and enemy of Elyon.”
“You dare speak that name in my realm?” The
beast shuddered with great wrath. His fur was black,
darker than the night that pressed in on all sides
of the forest. It bore a strange beauty, vile though
it was, compared to the mangy underlings that it no
doubt ruled.
“Forgive your servant. I am here but at the
request of Lord Ba’al who entrusted me with a
charge,” said I. “I have brought a gift to prove what I
say is true.”
The serpent pendant which the priest had given
me upon my departure had been lost in the din of the
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fight. Yet he gave me a second charm, one which he
said would woo the beast at the last and gain me
audience with the Queen to make request on my lord’s
behalf.
I motioned for Arium who passed me the small
leather pouch, which I had entrusted to him in the
event I fell in battle. Perhaps, I reasoned, this charm
would secure safe passage for the others.
I pulled the narrow box from the pouch and offered
it to the beast humbly. It was wrapped in black muslin
and bound with a red cord. The vile bat snatched the
box then smelled it with great fervency. Then with a
long tongue that wrapped around it the beast licked
the box and moaned in wicked ecstasy.
“Ah, my lover’s lifeblood,” it muttered. “This I do
desire.”
It turned to me and said the priest’s request would
be granted for it had been purchased with blood. One
and no more for our trespass was worthy of death. Then
with a single push of its wings, the creature lifted from
the ground and disappeared into the forest’s canopy.
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We followed the path, which plunged deeper into
the forest. Arium and Romul horses had succumbed to
exhaustion so we made forward on foot and left them.
Perhaps they would remain till our return.
Soon the tangled forest gave way to a clearing
where a black pond lay in a depression. The forest
crowded its edge and a wooden structure had been
erected over the foul water. Upon the platform hung
three rotted Shataiki carcasses, upside down and
attached to crisscrossed beams.
All around the lake, red eyes stared back from
the wood, held at bay by their master’s command.
We rounded the banks and nearby found an earthen
mound just as the priest had said we would. A rotted
door held together with intertwined vines marked its
entrance. This, said he, would lead to the Queen’s lair
where I would find Marsuuv and the elixir which the
priest needed. There I would either find life or death.
I alone would step through the door while Romul
and Arium stood guard. If I did not return within the
hour they were to flee.
We embraced as brothers then I stepped into
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darkness. A long moldering staircase descended
underground to a round landing.
Below, a labyrinth of tunnels branched in all
directions beneath the lake. A musty breeze carried a
smell strangely sweet through the place.
Every tunnel was darkened save one. Dying
candlelight licked at its walls and marked the path
down a corridor flanked by iron gates, each guarding
rooms or cells of some manner.
The tunnel led to a vast library, dank and bathed
in the amber glow of silver candlesticks. Beyond,
a stone table littered with books of leather and
parchments in the heart of the room sat the vile
creature from the path. It reclined on a couch
surrounded by red vines and sundry relics of unholy
worship, no doubt.
I kneeled as I entered for I knew not what might
save my men but humility. We were at the mercy of a
beast unpredictable and savage. Evil.
“You are Mustul, said the creature at long last to
me. “The servant of Biloss and a man of war.” Its voice
was thick and low.
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“I know not of this Biloss, my lord,” said I. “I
come only in the stead of Ba’al, servant to the
Queen Marsuuv and his god.”
“Yes, Biloss. Who is Ba’al. Who is my lover and my
slave. My high priest.”
The creature rose from its place and walked to the
stone table, its talons clicking and scraping the stone
floor as he went. There, he lifted a metal vial from the
priest’s box, which lay open. The creature pried the lid
from it and lifted it to its lips.
“My love, my love. I drink your lifeblood.” The
creature moaned as the vial’s contents disappeared into
its mouth.
It turned to me. “You are here so that your eyes
might be opened. That is why Biloss has sent his pigs
and not come himself?
He will come soon, said I. “This he promises and sends
his servant ahead to prepare the way for him. But I
have come too that you might bestow a potion upon us
that we might see the unseen—Roush, Shataiki, all
things which men are blind to see.”
“Lies! That you might strike us dead!” roared the
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beast.
In an instant it crossed the room and lifted me in
the air by the throat. In its eyes I saw reflected my
own face. And why give sight to an enemy, son of man?
Said the beast.
Its grip loosened and I fell to the ground, my blood
carving a path down my neck from where the beast’s
talons fastened about me.
That we might slay your enemies, said I. That my
people, led by the lord Ba’al, might utterly destroy
the roush and so erase their memory and vile deception
from the earth.
The beast settled back. It considered my words. I
pressed further.
And with them, said I, the albinos and their
religion of lies. Your enemies and ours are the self same.
Do you see it not? We cannot eradicate them save
for your grace. Such is why lord Ba’al has sent his
servants, that we might strike at the heart of your
enemies and ours.
I stood to my feet. Give me this elixir and Ba’al
will do this. We will use it to capture Roush and learn
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their ways to bring them down. And with them, the
albinos. This my lord swears so he might return to you
forever. You yourself will rule and we will be your sons
and daughters, your slaves. May we first be your blade
to strike a blow against your enemies and ours.
After a long silence, the beast turned and
departed the room through a door I had not earlier
seen. It was obscured such that it was indiscernible
from the moss covered wall. I considered following the
creature but thought better of it.
Nay, I was certain the creature’s own disdain of all
but his own kind would work to my advantage. I would
escape with the elixir. At that moment surety filled
my heart and strengthened me as steel. It would surely
be so.
Then my eyes fell upon the stacks of tanned vellum
spread upon the stone table. I considered them quickly.
Many were drawings of vile images of which I care
not to speak. Others were filled to the page’s edge
with writings. Upon one was scrawled The Writings of
Marsuuv. The ink was dark red and seeped into the
vellum with smudges.
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The beast’s approach echoed nearby. I quickly rolled
what I could and concealed them beneath my cloak. I
would surely find favor with Ba’al by retrieving these
writings.
When the creature returned he held the bladder
of a large animal aloft. It was translucent and filled with
a black liquid that clung to the sides when swirled.
Here contained is the elixir of the knowledge of
the realms, said he. Each measure will bring sight for a
time and half a time. The taker’s eyes will be opened to
the unseen.
He set the bladder on the stone table and stared
at me with those crimson eyes. Long strings of saliva
dripped from his jowls as he spoke with venomous words.
Use it to bring our enemies low. Fail me, son
of man, and you will know torment unimaginable and
unending. I will see to it. Destroy my enemies and yours
with this elixir. I will eat of my enemy’s entrails. If I do
not, I will have yours. Take and drink as you have need.
But sparingly, it is all you will have.
I took the bladder and knelt. It will be as you say.
Gather your men and leave now. The others shan’t
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touch you until you reach the forest’s edge. If you or
other sons of man ever return here I will strip you of
your skin while you are yet alive and break your bones.
Leave me.
The echo of his snarl chased me down the tunnels
and out the rotted door where my men were yet alive
and at the ready.
We made our way along the path with great haste,
toward the forest’s edge. To our great surprise the two
horses were yet alive and we brought them out. By
and by we came near our fallen brothers, whose bones
were all that remained upon our passing.
As the beast promised, we traveled untouched
and stepped again to the forest’s edge where, in the
distance, the dunes rose against the night sky awash
in the yellow moon. But the desert would have to wait.
I ordered Romul and Arium to venture beyond the
edge, to wait for me at the rock spine.
What of you? they asked.
I came not for the elixir alone, but for a shataiki,
said I. I will lay in wait for one of the beasts then
bring it out. You are released to leave if you so choose.
41
As you go, so will we, said Romul. If you live we will
live; if you die we will die, but we will not leave you here.
So be it, said I. We will lay in wait until dark. Then
will we entrap one of the demons for Qurong’s priest.
Silence smothered the forest as we lay in wait
beneath two blinds, which we had fashioned of
deadwood—Romul and I in one and Arium in the
other with a clear vantage of the path.
Our plan was simple: draw the creatures to us then
Arium, an archer of unmatched skill, would immobilize
one by skillful arrow to the wing. Romul would capture
the beast by net while I safeguarded our escape by
diversion, which we had set in place before our hiding.
I knew the creatures required baiting to draw them
out to the open. So I chose the weaker of the
steeds, itself near death, and slew it. I rent its belly
and spilled its entrails as an enticement to the beasts,
which seemed maddened by insatiable bloodlust.
The scent of death rose from the carcass, which
steamed in the midnight chill.
We waited, but not long for soon shataiki
descended upon the carcass as flies to a kill. First one
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43
then another landed upon it until more than twenty
beasts gorged themselves loudly upon the fresh meat,
ripping and tearing at flesh and hide.
We waited as the creatures jostled among
themselves for position. When a skirmish among the
beasts erupted I sensed the moment and motioned to
Arium with a stone’s throw.
He let the first arrow fly. It pierced the head of
one of the beasts. Before the others could catch
their bearings Arium had notched a second and let fIy.
It met its mark, punching through the shoulder of
one and pinning it to the ground.
I motioned to Romul who snatched up the chainmail
net, which Quinon the blacksmith had fashioned for
our mission. Tightly woven of fine wire mesh, it would
endure even the thrashing of the wicked creature and
its razor talons.
Swiftly, he leapt from his hiding place and fIung
the net over the creature. It at once attempted to
lift from the ground, but could not. He dove upon it
and the creature fought bitterly, gnashing its yellow
teeth and screaming with terrible fright. At last he
44
could take no more and punched the creature in the
head, rendering it immobile.
Drawn to the commotion with Romul, the others
were distracted for a moment. I would only need one. I
sprang from my cover, knelt to the ground and struck
flint against steel. A spark leapt to the oily stain upon
the ground where we had doused the ground beneath
the steed with oil we had rationed for our return
journey.
Blue flame hissed along the ground and soon
consumed the steed with flame, setting the beasts to
panicked fIight.
Gather the demon quickly, said I to Romul.
The beasts were in retreat, but confusion would reign
but for a moment. Lest we made haste we ourselves
would soon be the feast save for retreat.
Romul flung the sacked demon over his shoulder
and we sprinted to the forest’s edge with our prize
and stepped across the threshold, which divided the
invisible forest from the desert.
We did not look back, but retreated toward the
horizon for fear that the beasts behind grow the
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wiser and pursue. As the forest faded behind us, so
also the shataiki within our net. Inside the forest the
unseen had been visible, but this side of the wood the
elixir was needed. Often I poked at the creature to
ensure it was indeed there, though I could see it not.
Curious, it was.
We crossed the sands on foot with the beast
fastened atop our last remaining horse. After several
days travel we would deliver the beast and so be
rid of it. The priest and his alchemist would have
their coveted specimen and we our return to the
Borderlands and our brothers in arms.
46
The Accounts of
the Alchemist
Grushon
Who with great wisdom unveiled mysteries
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48
From your servant, Grushon
To Lord Ba’al:
Grushon, son of Molek, loyal subject of his
eminence Lord Qurong and chief Alchemist in
the service of your excellence Lord Ba’al in the
quest for all things good and true.
Greetings, my lord. Strength and honor be yours
as you seek to unravel the mysteries of knowledge
and wisdom, which have been granted to you as
safeguard for all time among our great people.
You well know how, on the fifth day of the
third month of the year I undertook a rigorous
examination of our world and particular
subjects to which I was given a solemn charge to
investigate. With great energy I have undertaken
this endeavor by all manner of study and, as
the kingdom’s chief scholar, this is my full
accounting of this research.
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To be sure, this account is written in my own
hand for the preservation of these discoveries and
wonders which I myself witnessed and confirmed
through diligent labor, exacting procedure, and
skilled experimentation.
These findings are reliable in whole and the
accounting is trustworthy beyond doubt. I swear
it is so. May you find enlightenment and a
satisfactory record of our studies herein.
The beginning of wisdom is examination, and
hope of man is understanding. Long life,
strength and lasting legacy belong to the house
of Ba’al and his descendants forever.
Here, then, are my findings.
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The Shataiki
That Most Vile Creature
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THE ARRIVAL
The Shataiki specimen came into my
possession on the twenty-eighth day of the third
month, as night descended upon the great city.
I was greeted by the Horde commander Mustul, a
valiant champion for our people and a warrior
of high esteem in his majesty’s service, as I was
leaving the laboratory until the morrow.
Fazhid, the son of my eldest daughter Danae,
may she rest in peace, who is my faithful
apprentice stood by my side and he is witness to
all I have set my hand to document herein.
The commander had in his company two
warriors who accompanied him alongside with
singular steed behind. The animal was led on
foot by bit and atop was strap netting, the likes
of which are used to ensnare desert jackals and
wild hares.
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The netting thrashed as if a bound
creature of madness was confined within. The
commotion greatly unsettled the steed and caused
consternation that I’ve seen only when grave
danger is at hand.
But to my amazement no creature could be
seen within the netting. It was as if the air
itself was alive and caused such a ruckus. Only
then did I realize that the cords held an unseen
beast.
The sound that issued forth was terrifying,
the likes of which, until then, had been entirely
alien to me. It came with an intensity that
resonated within my breast. It was the sound of
madness unbridled. I have only heard an animal
make such a shriek once when, as a young man,
I witnessed a sow tortured and butchered alive
for sport by a lunatic. Yet even that could not
compare to this horrid oddity.
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In his fascination, Fazhid stepped forward,
but was halted by Mustul who grabbed the lad
before he could venture too close. In hindsight,
the warrior acted with great wisdom for we did not
know the manner of creature that had come to us.
Though judging from the freshly torn skin on
his arms, he knew.
With haste Mustul commanded his men to
carry the unseen creature into the laboratory before
curious onlookers could make their way into the
streets.
I directed them to the main room where
the majority of our investigations would be
undertaken. The creature was placed in a cage,
which was secured on the far side of the
laboratory and fastened to the floor with thick
chains.
Though the captain appeared vexed, no doubt
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from the strain of such a tireless journey, he
agreed to stay and allow me to document his
recollections while still fully clear in his mind’s
eye.
How he came upon the creature is puzzling
and a matter of immense importance for it
challenges common assumptions that only that
which is seen and, therefore, fully material
is existent. Long into the night the captain
weaved a great tale of how he came to secure the
creature and the habitat from whence it came. I
have documented his account at length in An
Inquiry Regarding the Capture of Specimens
Unseen.
Most significant finding… specimens and
habitat once thought to be of spirit are physical…
though unseen to the common eye, he said the
creatures could be perceived, but either within an
enchanted forest or by ingesting an enchanted
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elixir acquired by means of unholy sorcery, which
came into Mustul’s possession at great risk.
The vial, he warned, contained all the elixir
that existed and must be used sparingly for no
more could be had and, in fact, even this small
amount had already come at the price of a man’s
life. I would have to work quickly upon ingesting
the potion.
The elixir was contained in the tanned
bladder of some animal, perhaps swine. The
bladder tapered to a narrow mouth, fatter at the
bottom than at the top and was capped with a
speckled cork, which was stained at the bottom by
what appeared to be blood. According to Mustul
himself—Shataiki blood.
It contained many measures, which were marked
with wax marks on the bladder itself. Each would,
as he said, open the eyes of the partaker for a
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time and half a time and enable him to see the
unseen. The measures would give me many weeks
of observation.
Given the elixir’s limited supply, save for the
physician I was the sole observer among the six,
which comprised my laboratory. The others would
document and assist to make use of the short
time offered by the elixir::::::::
In which I take a measure of elixir::
I opened the vessel, brought it to my lips,
ingested the required amount and allowed the
first draw to linger in my mouth.
…coppery and slick… forthrightly overwhelmed by a
bitterness that I have never experienced save for
in the few instances that I ingested the liquid
during this research. To explain the taste is
difficult… rotted meat… festering entrails.
Any description would diminish its immediate
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assault upon the senses of smell and taste. I
am certain it is the taste of death itself and
perhaps that is why, upon each taking, my body
convulsed to vomit it had I not resisted the urge
and forcefully swallowed against my body’s own
will.
Yet, the experience was curiously both horridly
offensive and intoxicating, for following the
swallow, the vile elixir’s overwhelming bitterness
faded to the sort of sweet warmth experienced
after partaking strong spirits. And that strangely
warm sensation spread throughout my body quite
rapidly as if it somehow intended to consume me.
…I understand it not comprehensible to say
such, and fear my words betray perhaps long held
superstitions that compromise my science, yet I
know no other description but this: I could nearly
feel the liquid work what I can only describe as a
great darkness within my veins…skin felt prickled
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as if needles, pleasurable and not painful,
pressed against my skin from within.
To my shame, I must admit that I still wake
in the night craving the taste of the elixir…but
more so its effects not only for the awakening
of the senses it offered, but also for the sense
of life because it enriched the senses as a stone
sharpens the blade.
At first I saw nothing, but then, when a
minute had passed, the air turned hollow before
me and my eyes were opened by the elixir’s dark
magic. What I saw there in that cage made my
heart seize and my mind rage.
Only a minute, perhaps two, passed before the
first glimpse of change. And then I saw it and
my heart set upon an irregular beat.
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The Physical Form of the Shataiki
The creature known as Shataiki hung inverted
from the bars of its cage. It clung to the metal
with gnarled claws. When I saw them I knew the
source of the captain’s casualties. It tapped the
cage with a singular talon, longer than therest.
Fur, if it could be called such, covered
the entirety of the creature in mangy patches
of black and grey. The flesh visible beneath
appeared infected and full of lesions.
…velvety wings, black. Tattered edges and the
left wing, which the creature tucked against its
body, was torn entirely.
>>>...bulbous, red eyes. Void of pupils and oozing
at the corners with a yellowish, milky pustum.
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Observations and Inquisition
For seven days I set about an examination of
the specimen’s physicality, intelligence and acuity
by means of observation and inquisition.
The creature was listless for the first day
likely from the damage inflicted during capture
and, afterward, remained motionless for many
days until the sun had sunk below the horizon.
…without knowledge of whether day or night
creature appears aware of eve’s approach…remarkable
for the laboratory is subterranean, far removed
from all forms of natural light…the creature
seems to be nocturnal, though strangely so.
I have documented in great detail, along with
the help of Motirer the alchemist (for whose
wisdom I am gratefully indebted) the anatomy
of the creature in the volume Observations and
Dissections of the Creature Shataiki.
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…two days then marked turn in behavior and
activity.
Inquisition
For many days time I set about to learn
all I could from the specimen by way of direct
communication, for I knew it well understood our
language. Its frequent cursings of those in the
laboratory betrayed as much.
I sat near the cage and attempted to engage it
while Fazhid acted as scribe from nearby.
The creature was chronically vexed and, from
arrival, exhibited episodic fits of madness… It
clawed desperately at its own flesh, tearing fresh
wounds as it paced within the cage. It repeated
this behavior for long stretches of time, first in
a manic fit then settling into relative calm for
a short time before lashing out again. It was
during these relatively lucid moments that the
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creature responded to certain questions.
…this one note about the inquisition: from close
proximity the stench, which was detectable only
by me in the laboratory (an effect, I presume of
the elixir) was nearly suffocating and I often
had to breath through a rag dipped in turmini oil,
which offered only minimal relief.
In general the Shataiki was uncooperative to
any form of inquisition and much of what I
learned was pulled from the beast after hours of
questioning.
What is it named?
The creature’s responses were always cryptic,
particularly on the subject of its namesake. Of
note also is that it spoke as though describing
another creature, not itself. To name something,
it said, is to hold power over it and what it is and
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isn’t. “We are Eve and we are many. Nothing holds
us with power but the will of the will and then
only what we will.”
Rantings and ravings…madness incoherent, all
bit of it. And the creature often spoke as if to
others like it, though unseen, and hurled vile
insults at Elyon, the albino mythological deity.
From whence came it?
This particular question elicited an unusual
response. Each time it was posed to the creature,
it fell silent for long moments before issuing
forth its answer, which was always “from deep
within the womb of the forest’s dust, awakened by
the Queen himself, at the behest of the will.”
We would not know of such things, it said,
for our “rotted flesh blinds us” and other nonsense
of which I cannot be certain for the creature
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digressed into unknown tongues.
Are Shataiki and Roush of the same genus?
The specimen (Eve) cursed even the word
“Roush” when it was uttered within the laboratory.
With great vitriol, it hurled what I assume were
great cursings and taunts, though these also
were spoken in a strange tongue.
Though I cannot be sure, I hypothesize that
the Shataiki and Roush, though different, are
similar (if not the same) species. What force that
could account for the transformation from one
form to another is yet a mystery
Whom does it serve?
From the accounts of Mustul, I surmised that
a hierarchy of authority exists within the species
Shataiki, particularly as it relates to movements
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within “nest” social structures.
Again, Eve responded to the inquiry with a
puzzling answer: “The will of the will of the will
is whom we serve. There is none other and even to
this your putrid flesh will succumb.” The creature
speaks madness at all times, but at the mention
of the “will of the will” it becomes strangely lucid
and insidious. Its eyes, which pierced my own soul,
haunted my dreams often beyond the inquisition.
How does the creature accomplish its
invisibility?
A singular answer could not be surmised from
either the Shataiki or Roush, save for one: the
sons of the first man became blind because of
the water and have since been so. It is not they
who are invisible, but men who have “gouged out
their own eyes”.
The experiments and observations I have
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overseen lead me to believe that these creatures
account for many phenomena, which we
experience, though do not fully understand—the
sense that a man is not alone, though he stands
in an empty room, the sensation of being watched,
or the strange winds that brush against men that
we dismiss as something other. These and more I
believe can be accounted for by the interaction of
these creatures with our own race.
Many times, after the elixir had faded and
the creature once again became hidden from me,
I felt the movement of air as it beat it’s wings.
Sometimes I felt the Shataiki’s spittle, which it
often flung from the cage. I am convinced that
these creatures indeed have lived or yet live among
us.
How does the genus procreate?
I cannot be sure, for the creature Eve would
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not answer this question. I hypothesize from
my venture to the forest with Mustul and my
observations that the species procreates in similar
fashion as some insect colonies, which I have
studied at great length. To wit, a singular
Queen produces eggs or larvae, which are then
fertilized by males and grow into Shataiki.
I can only postulate on gestation time and
manner of fertilization.
Many mysteries of a baffling nature…how is it
possible that these creatures can be in such close
proximity to humans and yet be undetectable?
Can this be the mythological creature, which
our people hold in such a manner as to call it
“awe”? To fear it, I understand, but it does not
inspire any sense of terrible wonder or awe. I felt
only revulsion and pity for the creature, which
appeared to be diseased in its soul and mind.
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It is clear that these creatures not only
despise all creatures unlike themselves, but are
set about to actively exterminate all others unlike
themselves. A question, which the creature asked
me, confirmed this to be so.
“Would you like to know how we kills the boy?”
referring to Fahzid.
I replied, no. The creature then detailed in
grotesque manner and with apparent delight how
he would do so. It was the only time I heard the
creature exhibit any expression similar to a smile
or laughter.
…I am unsure how it seems to know such
things, secret things, about those in the
laboratory. It is as though the creature can
read men’s secrets as a scroll and, indeed, twice
divulged my own secrets as I worked alone in the
laboratory.
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Observations of Shataiki Habitat
A full and accurate accounting of
any species requires observation of habitat.
Reluctantly, and after adequate persuasion from
the lord Ba’al himself, Mustul escorted me to the
habitat from whence he retrieved the specimen Eve.
As we drew near the place itself an ominous
sense of dread fell upon us and I was greatly
afraid, for we found in the desert sands a
horribly mutilated horse. Its flesh hung in thin
ribbons and its entrails spilled to the dust,
swarmed by desert flies. It appeared to have been
drained of its lifeblood for the dust was not
stained as one might expect.
One of Mustul’s men recognized the brand on
the animal’s hindquarters as belonging to an
Eramite war party. Mustul considered the animal
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as a warning that our presence was not a secret.
The captain ordered his men to be prepared for
the worst and warned me that I had been given one
hour to gather whatever information I could, no
more and only from a distant ridge upon which
we stood. Any escape might be at jeopardy beyond
that.
Mustul’s men scouted an observation point on
the ridge, which would offer an adequate view
with the assistance of a looking glass. Upon
first look I saw only the horizon and great dunes
of sand rising in the distance. Only after taking
the elixir (at Mustul’s direction for he said the
forest is only visible from within save for the
elixir) did it appear.
The Black Forest is indeed a dreadful and
desolate place and, even from a distance, I have
never seen its equal in manner of ruin and
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barrenness. I do not doubt the captain’s warning
that inside awaited a swift and terrible death for
any who would dare step foot into it.
Crooked, unnaturally angular flora jutted
toward the sky as far as the eye could see. It
is a place of death, no doubt, and unspeakable
things.
A sea of red eyes dotted the forest below. They,
no doubt, were fully aware of our presence. From
time to time, large flocks of hundreds or perhaps
thousands erupted from the tree line and circled
high above us in the sky before returning to the
forest with wicked shriek.
Twice I witnessed a Shataiki of enormous
size, perhaps the height and mass of ten such
as the specimen in my lab, rise from the center
of the forest and light on a massive tree that
rose high above the others. It was similar to Eve
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in appearance, though markedly different in
dimension. Its snout, however, was more pronounced
and it appeared emaciated and sinewy.
The sound that rose from the forest when the
large Shataiki called out was nothing short of
terrifying and set my soul on edge.
I warned the captain that the regularity and
proximity of the creatures’ flights toward us were
increasing. Within moments Mustul commanded
that we mount our steeds and retreat for he
sensed that we were in grave danger.
The captain’s intuition proved accurate.
We had no more descended the ridge when we
were viciously attacked by an unseen swarm of
Shataiki. We pushed the steeds as fast as we
dared on the ridge’s knife-edge trail then plunged
across the sands.
Two of Mustul’s scouts, his best, sacrificed
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themselves to provide us with sufficient time to
retreat. Their screams haunt me still and I shall
never forget them.
…I shall also never again venture back to that
cursed place. Not ever.
A Series of Experiments (during which the
specimen was incapacitated)
By securing a sedative strong enough to kill
any horse from the royal apothecary, I immobilized
the specimen for numerous tests of the mettle
and composition of its physiology.
For a period of fourteen days I kept the
creature in a state of altered consciousness
such that I would describe it best as “limbo”—
not fully unconscious, in order to allow the
determination of certain stimuli, yet not fully
conscious so as to endanger myself or my
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assistants.
…blood drawn from the creature, crimson only
until it was exposed to air then transformed into
the likeness of ink. Metallic smell as one might
expect, but pungently sour such as the elixir.
…intended to replicate the elixir since the
captain confirmed it was comprised of Shataiki
blood and nothing more that he could tell. Drew
three heklitre samples…two test subjects. First, a
boar which had been secured from Ben-Amin’s
efforts. If the beast could perceive the Shataiki,
I postulated that I might observe its change in
demeanor…seemed to sense the Shataiki without the
elixir however.
Upon forced oral administration of the sample,
the animal thrashed for several moments then
escaped the handler…an unsettling rampage. The
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beast nearly destroyed the laboratory before it,
in madness, ran headlong into the wall many
times until it fell dead. I did not dare repeat the
experiment on another creature, even untamed. I
could not bring myself to plunge another creature
into such terrible madness.
…could observe no reproductive organs of
any kind. It is quite possible that the creatures
are without gender, though it is baffling how
the reproductive function transpires. Perhaps the
seed flows through its blood and, upon mixing
with the blood of another, produces secondary life.
Though of this I cannot be sure. It is a mystery
yet veiled to me.
…samples of the creature’s fur, which were
carefully removed from the specimen by flaying
the dermis in three places. The creature did not
flinch as I expected.
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Ostensibly, the specimen’s fur was like that
of other mammalia, which I have studied. My
observation proved incorrect, however, upon closer
examination. Stroking the fur, which was coarse
such as a wire brush, as it lay on the creature’s
flesh produced only a rough texture, like petting
a dog from head to tail. Felt in the opposite
direction, however, revealed that the creature’s fur
was barbed and embedded itself in the hand such
as needles of the Catalina cactus might. After
barely a touch, I myself extracted 127 barely visible
hairs from my fingers, all of which I believe
contain some form of poison, for a burning
sensation accompanied them and subsided only
after many hours time from their removal.
…talons punctured both cast metal and
stone and cleaved a jumar fruit effortlessly. I
have never seen a natural material of its equal
strength.
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A Series of Experiments (in which the
specimen was aware)
I could not ascertain the creature’s diet by
inquisition or how long it could survive without
either sustenance or drink. Therefore, I set about
withholding both for a sustained period of time.
Its days prior to dehydration numbered thirteen,
after which we forcibly invigorated it by manner
of pig intestine inserted into its mouth through
which liquid was poured. After twenty-one days
without solid sustenance, the creature began to
weaken noticeably.
…sustenance preferred: meat with the lifeblood
still in it. Creature recoiled at cooked meats and
fruits of the vine, save for those which were
putrid and rotted through.
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Expiration/ and Dissection
Upon expiration, which came on the fortythird day by an unknown cause, we proceeded with
dissection and a thorough examination of the
specimen’s internal structure.
My complete findings are documented in
Anatomy of a Shataiki Specimen, as well as the
writings of my contemporary Pazmal, Alchemist
in the service of the King, who attended my side
throughout the duration of my examination of
the specimen.
The first incision was made from just
beneath the creature’s jawline and bisected its body
to its midsection. As standard procedure would
dictate, I also proceeded with a diverted cut that
splayed the flesh in manner such that I could
peel its flesh, separating it from the bone. To my
great surprise I found that there was no skeletal
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83
structure beneath the flesh at all, save for the
skull.
With the assistance of Volmere, a trusted
contemporary and chief physician in the court,
I carefully pulled the flesh clear. As I did,
a viscous black substance spilled from the
creature’s abdominal area onto the table. It
issued such a stench that I have never before
experienced and twice had to retreat from the room,
as did the physician, to recompose myself.
We gathered the substance carefully into a
holding vessel for further close examination (its
measure was four and twenty mretas), which the
physician did immediately upon extraction while I
continued the dissection.
The nature of the creature’s entrails
At first appearance, the creature’s entrails
are astonishingly viscous, a blackish liquid the
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85
consistency of sticky tar in which torches might
be dipped. It oozes and appears to seep even on the
flat surface of the examination table, a curious
effect resembling movement like the ripples on a
puddle when a stone breaks its surface.
On closer examination, it is obvious that the
illusion of movement is not illusion at all, but
miniscule worms which infest and slither within
the liquid substance. I carefully extract the sum
of 696 such insectiles and preserve them in vials
for experimentation. As I do they issue forth
a high pitched sound, low yet discernable, quite
reminiscent of the hiss of hot coals.
It is yet unclear how the creature could live
with no internal organs and even more so ravaged
with such virulent and noxious parasites.
Perhaps this is the source of its madness as I
have seen in certain pack dogs which roam among
the canyons.
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88
The Roush
89
The Capture of a Roush by Mustul
For the Alchemist Grushon
The banyon grove lay still as the day’s last embers
smoldered away. I gazed upon it, Arium by my side, from
the crags of Hirmon, which mark the forest’s edge.
Duty brought me to this place for I would not
be released from my service to the priest save for
completion of a final task. At great blood cost,
I had already returned with the vile elixir of the
demon Marsuuv and along with it parchments, which
I smuggled from its lair. I too, by the strength of
my men, captured a shataiki. Then through great risk
nearly became as the albinos in my quest to retrieve
the writings of Thomas of Hunter.
These were not enough, however, for the priest’s
alchemist Grushon who, having completed his
experiments with the shataiki, was in need of its foe
specimen. A roush.
Return with this, said the priest, and he would
release me to return to my men in the desert.
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At the priest’s command the alchemist had given
elixir enough for Arium and myself, which would work
sorcery and open our eyes to the creatures’ presence.
The forest, said the priest, where the roush abide is
not enchanted as the Black Forest. Only by taking
the elixir would we perceive the creatures, which are
otherwise invisible.
We dismounted and tied the horses among the
rocks that we might approach in silence. There, I
uncorked the leather bota containing the elixir, drank
then passed it to Arium who also took of it. Vile
bitterness filled my mouth and I swallowed the thick,
bloody mixture, which burned a path to my stomach as
the harshest of barley whisky might.
The potion enlivened our senses quickly as we stepped
into the forest. Where moments earlier the trees stood
silent, now we heard the sounds of speaking and the
rush and flutter of wings.
We lay in hiding among thick brush and observed
so as to learn of their movements. Above us, high in
the canopy, and among the thick trees (some with
girth such that it would take ten men linking arms to
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encircle them) were white creatures in flight, dipping
and soaring skillfully. In size they were similar to the vile
shataiki, though they were white as clouds not black,
and appeared robust and not mangy or diseased as their
counterparts..
The roush were at the same time as the shataiki,
yet were other. It is as if some dread disease had
befallen a portion of roush and transformed them into
the beasts of savagery I witnessed in the Black
Forest. Somehow the roush had escaped their foe’s
fate.
As the creatures settled high in the trees at last
light we moved among the trees quietly and only when
we sensed our presence would not be easily noticed. It
was deeper into the grove that we laid our trap.
We would not capture a roush, said the priest,
as we had the shataiki for the roush are gentler
and civilized compared to shataiki. They care not for
blood nor meat and are not enticed by bait. Trapping
them thusly would not be successful. They are at once
nimble and disappear on the wind when they set flight.
Snaring would be difficult if not impossible.
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Success depended on cunning over might, craftiness
over force.
We came upon the section of deadfall, which Arium
had scouted days before our coming. A wide swath
of trees had been bent over by a great storm until
they had snapped and cast them upon the ground in a
tangled heap. Traversing it was treacherous and required
skillful feet to negotiate trunks and branches to avoid
becoming trapped beneath a shifting log.
I lowered myself betwixt the logs and settled myself
in a space barely large enough for a man, lying face up
on thick branches. My legs I slipped beneath other
branches to appear as though I had fallen and become
entrapped beneath the wood. Above, an opening led
from where I lay to the top of the pile, but thin
branches crisscrossed the thin space between, too small
even for a roush to spread wings and take flight.
Arium skillfully fastened a snare of a fine mesh
netting at the top of the heap with bent boughs and
rope then covered it with a thin layer of brush. He
himself settled upon the top of the trunks, beneath
the cover of brush within striking distance of the gap
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where I had climbed into the pile. If flight was the
creature’s main defense we would draw it in such that
flight was impossible and thus descend upon it in its
weakness.
We waited until the forest was still then I cried
out with a cry as great as I could muster. Elyon!
Rescue your servant, I screamed.
Nothing.
Again I yelled, this time as if I had been run
through savagely. My cry was met with only the
gentle wind that whispered through the cracks of the
wood.
Long and loud I yelled for several hours until my
voice ached from the strain. Finally I abandoned my
foolishness. Surely it was a plan ill conceived for would
such a creature hear me and, in compassion, alight
to consider my condition? I cursed to myself and set
about freeing myself from my place of hiding. I had
nearly worked myself loose when the gentle snapping of
branches above gave me pause.
I looked between the branches above my head and
saw a small silhouette peering down from the top of the
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pile. It appeared then, drawing back, disappeared.
I feigned supplication once more, this time with a
sound of despair in my voice. Send rescue, dear Elyon,
else your servant will die.
I waited. Watched.
Once again the silhouette appeared at the opening
at the top of the pile, peered down upon me. This time
it did not pull back, but lingered in curiosity. After
a moment it hopped through the hole and descended
cautiously upon a trunk high above my head. There it
sat, watching.
Hello? I called into the darkness. You there, have
you come to my aid?
The roush neither stirred nor spoke back.
You there, said I. I can see you. Has Elyon answered
my cry? Would you rescue me?
At this the creature stirred. How is this possible
son of Tanis? You see me? Said the creature.
Aye, said I. I can see you and hear you.
How is this possible? Have you been to the spring in
the desert? Have your eyes been opened?
Aye, it is as you say.
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At this the creature chuckled and stepped
carefully betwixt the branches, negotiating with care
the maze of limbs and trunks that blocked the way.
Even wih its smaller size the creature had to squeeze
between the branches. Deeper into the wood it
descended.
Wondrous, simply wondrous, said he. Not since the
young boy Johnis have I seen one of your kind with
open eyes. And that you can hear my voice. Wondrous!
He climbed until he was upon me, all the while
jabbering as I have never heard a creature do, man nor
beast. Its name was Raphel. In the stillness of the eve
he had heard my muffled cries as he took flew among
the trees, having returned from a journey. He had
circled thrice before his curiosity trumped his better
sense and lighted upon the woodpile.
He was within arms reach when the truth of my
visage became suspect to the creature. Though a hood
obscured the morst that covered my face, the scent
of it caught it unawares.
You are a desert dweller? Said he. A child of
Teeleh. Your countenance betrays you, yet how is this
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possible?
I answered not, but reached out swiftly and
reached for the creature. I grasped fistfuls of his fur.
With a yell, the beast kicked and thrashed mightily.
As it did the fur ripped free from its body. It loosened
itself from my hold and hopped upward awkwardly, but
lost its footing and stumbled. It found purchase once
more, but the branches above and around clawed at
the creature, confining it such that spreading its wings
was impossible. Were it to escape it would have to
either climb up or descend past me.
But the roush was nimble, surprisingly so, and had
nearly made the top of the pile before I could work
free of the wood and give pursuit.
Now! Yelled I to Arium who lay in wait above. He
sprung the trap, covering the hole in the pile’s top
with the netting as the roush reached him.
Caught between a net above and a man below, the
creature searched frantically for another way out. But
there was none for the pile was impenetrable all around,
and where it was not Arium had jammed stones and
brush in the gaps to make it so.
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In desperation it attempted to spread its wings
in the cramped space, but was unable to stretch its
arms more than half their length. With a single yell
it leaped straight away through the hole at the
woodpile’s top. As it emerged the creature’s wings
unfurled with a loud snap, but the netting proved too
strong a foe as did Arium who fell upon the creature.
He wrestled the creature, which bit and thrashed.
But Arium proved victorious and rendered the beast
unconscious with a club to the head.
Of this I was greatly angered and rebuked Arium
as I climbed from the pile, for the priest had strongly
commanded that the beast not be harmed, but that
it would be taken to the alchemist in strength and
health.
We bound the creature’s body with cords and
bundled it within the netting for the journey to the
City. There we delivered it to the alchemist Grushon
for what manner of experimentation I cannot say,
though I am told the creature met its end deep in
the alchemist’s laboratory.
I also delivered unto the priest a small leather
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pouch, which the creature wore upon itself. Within
it were contained rolls of birch bark with a form of
writing indecipherable, which the priest has set about
to interpret.
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An Examination of a Roush
by the Alchemist Grushon
The singular Roush specimen came into my
possession through the efforts of Mustul, a
Ripper in the secret service of the king,
Upon the Roush’s arrival I became aware of
the marked difference between the two creatures,
the Roush and the Shataiki. As the roush
was brought in and fastened in its stations, a
clamorous noise such that I had never heard rose
from the Shataiki while no stirring, save for the
clink of metal as Mustul’s men jostled it, issued
forth from the other.
This alarmed me so and I inquired of Mustul
whether or not the creature had escaped en route,
to which he said nay and that it was merely
silent and had been so for much of the journey.
Only after jabbing a stick through the bar, which
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elicited a surprised groan from the creature was I
satisfied.
I had settled upon taking a measure of
Mustul’s elixir.
After ingesting the elixir, which quickened my
eyes and allowed me to see both the Roush and
the Shataiki. I reclined at my table and merely
observed their forms and behavior for quite some
time. It is a habit I have learned with the passing
of the sands, this pausing to consider, to being
fully aware. Would that I had learned it in my
youth. How many discoveries have been passed over
for want of searching eyes!
I observed them for quite some time, the two
creatures each sequestered in their respective
holding cages.
Verily, as day and night stand opposed so did
these two creatures, not merely in appearance (for
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the one was a deeper black than midnight and the
other white as a cloud) but also in temperament.
While the Shataiki displayed a frenzied state,
lashing against the bars erratically, the
Roush appeared calm, even curious, concerning
its predicament as a captive. Oft times I have
reminisced about this very fact and have become
convinced of the possibility that the creature
possessed a fascination with those within the
laboratory.
The Roush was not afraid. This I did not
expect. It also exhibited signs of intelligence
(that is the only manner in which I can describe
it) that was noticeable to all within the laboratory,
and we would soon learn that it did indeed exhibit
curious personality traits.
In which the Roush creature interacts
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The creature began speaking to those of us
within the laboratory during the second day of
its keeping. While I fervently forbid any from
interacting, only observing and transcribing, the
creature it made all the more attempts to solicit
responses from us.
Displaying the ability to reason, it surmised
from our personal interactions within the
laboratory the names of those present, including
my own.
Master Grushon, it is lovely to see you, it
would say. Or My boy, Fahzid, why do you sit
glumly so?
The creature often sings and carries on
lengthy monologues on matters trivial such as
the colors it prefers and curiosities about our
species which intrigue it so.
Much inquisition and questioning was oral
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and visual observations were done only when the
creature appeared most active—often during times in
which the Shataiki also was active.
In which we proceed with inquisition of the
specimen
The creature’s ostensible intelligence and
ability to articulate in our native tongue was of
eminent interest to me and presented a situation
uncommon to the study of animalia. For who
among us has ever spoken with a creature or has
had a creature to them?
However, despite the creature’s apparent
ambivalence toward us it still exhibited reluctance
in its interactions with others save for the boy
Fahzid.
It had over the course of its stay taken a
liking in the boy, who is also fascinated with
the creature. Oft times I scolded the boy for
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interacting with the specimen, for I knew not what
dangers existed and whether the creature were
merely seducing the boy into some manner of trust
such that it could manage an escape.
I would at times leave the laboratory only to
return and discover the boy near the cage’s edge,
squat on his haunches and peering into the
empty space which contained a creature as real
as himself, though indiscernible to the eye.
Once I stood unnoticed behind the boy and
watched as he tossed a pebble into the cage. It
clinked as it hit the hard metal and rolled to a
stop in the center of the cell. Quickly, it rose in
the air and there hung suspended before being
tossed gently back to the child. Without the aid
of the elixir, I saw only the pebble as well. I can
understand the boy’s fascination. Fahzid would
pitch and toss the pebble again, and so this
would carry on until I made my presence known.
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Certainly, the creature was not malevolent like
its counterpart, but curiously engaged.
I placed a cloak in the creature’s cage at its
request. Curiously, it appears to be amusing those
who observe it for it has donned the cloak on
many occasions and moved about its cell. What
a strange and amusing sight to witness the
shell of a cloak, hood pulled up, as if a draped
upon a specter of some sort. It was clear that the
creature derived amusement from it as did Fahzid.
At first, as I mentioned previously, I scolded
the boy’s personal interest in the creature
for I feared it was too much. But the boy’s
inquisitiveness soon became something of an
advantage in examining the creature’s intelligence
and ability to communicate. I set about
instructing the boy in matters of inquisition and
observation.
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109
After two days’ time of preparation we began
the interaction. Though the boy entreated me
relentlessly to partake of the elixir, insisting that
he could only inquire of the creature if it could
be seen by him, I at first resisted for I knew not
what effects the potion would have on such a
young man. At last I relented and allow it.
Hence I plunge with the dictation:
My name is Raphel. And you are Fahzid, yes?
Yes, how could you know this? By what
sorcery?
No sorcery, young lad. I have heard the whitehaired man, the one who stewards you, utter your
name many times. I see him and he sees me, yes?
Do you?
Yes, I have partaken of the bat’s elixir. I
can see and hear you.
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Should I sing you a song then? I am a
minstrel of sorts, though don’t be deceived—even
warriors can also poets.
Perhaps later, yes. I would like that very
much.
I would like that very much as well.
{Notes: The creature often erupts in fits of
what is best described as laughter and appeared
intrigued, if not amused, by the interactions with
the boy.}
Fahzid—Why is it that others can’t see you?
It is a curious thing, yes, don’t you think?
The sons of Tanis weren’t always blind to us.
When belief fled them so did their sight.
I don’t understand.
Of course not. You can’t can you? Believing
brings sight, young lad! And too much seeing
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and thinking can squash the heart. Squash it
like an overripe fruit.
How many more are like you?
There are many of us. Yes. Many, many, many.
We are scattered far like the sons of Tanis, in
many places throughout the vast realm, even as
far as the Edge.
I have heard of this place. Tell me of this
edge. What manner of place is it?
Oh, a dreadful and wonderful place, but it is
full of half breeds which are best left alone.
Creatures that can speak to you without words
and would imprison you through ecstasy.
Do you have babies?
Of course, of course. Such silly questions.
How old are you?
Quite young, of course. But mind you the
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years of my journey stretch back to the origin of
things.
Do you dwell among us? I have heard it said
that you do and I quite believe it. I always have.
Only from a distance except when we are sent
to one of your kind specifically. The days have
been many since then. And I fear that will be so
for many a time.
Are you like that creature (in reference to the
Shataiki)?
No. It is no longer like us. Once it was. Now
only a betrayer and rebel, ravaged by its own
disease. Lamentable. Greatly lamentable.
A betrayer of whom? A great ruler?
Yes, the greatest. There was a great
uprising fed by the smooth tongue of one named
Lucian, who is now Teeleh. The banishment
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threw many of my brothers down and rightly so.
They have lost themselves in madness, deceived
and deceiving. And against this we fight for
you, young lad.
You are at war then?
Of course, though my sword is the quill
and my war cry my songs. It is a great and terrible
war. Soon the end of it will be upon us, a great
clashing that will birth all things anew.
Sociology and Species Hierarchy
The specimen quipped sporadically regarding
the social hierarchy of its species, which is
surprisingly orderly. From what I can ascertain the
species is divided as such:
Arche Rou (or translated “messengers” or “sage”)–
of the highest standing and import. There are
perhaps no more than a few dozen and they
appear to serve as high priests (or perhaps
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generals?) in the service of their deity, though
of this I cannot be certain for the creature
mingles religious and military terminology freely
in reference to this sub-group.
Tal’yon (or translated “king warriors”) – A special
categorization of Roush, which engage in the
defense of their kind and, according to the
specimen, that of mankind also. The specimen
suggests that they are beyond numbering and
roam the whole of the world on endeavors secret
and invisible.
Tal’im (or translated “high warriors”)—a general
categorization of warriors subservient to the
Tal’yon and comparable, I believe, to his Majesty’s
foot warriors. Innumerable and sub-divided into
ranks and companies such as is customary even
among our own species.
Artezin—(minstrel or craftsman?). Also of
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superior import and highly regarded even above the
Tal’yon and Tal’im. Among them are the scribes
and craftsman of all manner.
Gimal—(common/unknown). The creature
referenced often the existence of another class
among their species known as the Gimal (or
Gimil or Gimeel perhaps). I could not ascertain
the station of this particular group within the
species though I believe it may be equivalent to our
common station.
It is also curious to note that the specimen
insinuated that not all of its species is of
similar physical stature. It is mere conjecture
(for it would not confirm such questioning, but
averted response), but it is quite possible that
certain Roush exist, which are smaller than
would be visible were the bare eye able to discern
their form.
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I also postulate that the existence of
behemoth Roush larger than any creatures that
have heretofore been examined is not only possible,
but likely. The specimen spoke of a creature that
stood as tall as the Great City’s library with a
wingspan such as would overshadow the entire
city in the noonday sun. But, again, such talk
could very well be a deception by the specimen.
Habitat
The warrior Mustul escorted myself and
two others in an excursion purposed to record
the habitat of the Roush creature. Through
extensive investigation the good captain gathered
testimony from sundry royal scouts, warriors, and
merchants who have reported strange tellings
during their travels throughout the kingdom.
Some insist that they have sighted Roush habitat
(though I now believe these to be false testimony
after bearing witness myself of such habitat)
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and encounters with the creatures themselves.
The information was assembled and then
compared with the specimen’s own descriptions
of his home (though it was unaware we had
transcribed its descriptions secretly) surmised three
potential locations where we might come upon
Roush colonies.
I urged Mustul to select the two most likely
sites, which we set upon for our excursion.
The first was three days’ journey toward the
setting of the sun where an unusual forest of
Banyons grows. Stolid and massive, the trunks
are such that ten men could link arms and
barely span their girth. Such is where Mustul
commandeered this specimen.
High in the trees we spotted apparent nest
structures similar to the specimen’s description.
However, no indication of movement could be
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seen. Therefore, we waited long through the day,
observing the forest from beneath cover of brush
to conceal our presence. If any indication of
creaturely activity became evident I would partake
of some elixir and make observations.
None transpired, which led me to believe that
the nests (which appeared somewhat in disrepair)
were evidence of an abandoned habitat. Therefore,
we moved on.
The second location, a clearing a half day’s
journey beyond the Banyon grove near the Book
Cliffs proved more successful. Like the first, we
witnessed large nest structures high in the trees,
nearly obscured by the canopy itself. However, the
leaves of the Banyons shook and swayed though
no wind blew across the land.
Here I took the elixir and witnessed a scene
of the manner described by the specimen: hundreds
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of Roush of all size and stature circling
and gliding among the forest. Creatures of
smallish stature, obviously immature in age
and development, stumbled and rolled in playful
manner on the ground.
Several came within close proximity and
appeared unaware that I could discern their
presence. Twice a creature lighted on a branch
above our place of hiding and watched long to
determine our intentions before taking flight once
again to the canopy.
They appear carefree and amused at all
manner of the simplicity of their existence. This
is pressed upon me with such certainty that
it intrigues me so, for men as a whole do not
experience such unfettered joy.
I contemplated momentarily the capture of
several specimens, however I believe such an
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action would have been met with violence from the
Roush. This was a possibility I was not willing
to chance.
We made careful note of the location and
determined to return at an opportune time.
Expiration and Dissection
Lord Ba’al is intent upon understanding
various biological functions of the Roush
Raphel. He is aware of the creature’s intelligence
and longs to determine the extent of its
physical nature by means of deprivation and
experimentation, which after long consideration I
deem to be little more than cruel torment for this
creature is not savage as the Shataiki. I fear an
emotional response to the creature, however slight,
perhaps compromises my science.
One such command is to starve the creature
as we did the Shataiki to determine its limits for
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sustenance. Yet this command arouses a sense
of injustice within me.
Why is my response to this creature invariably
divergent from that of the Shataiki, of which
I have a sense approaching contempt? Perhaps
it is Raphel’s almost humanly qualities, his
expressions of interest in us. In me.
I cannot bring myself to conduct living
experiments on the specimen as Lord Ba’al has
commanded. I cannot. I will not.
The boy Fahzid cried long into the evening
last night and I fear that I also have grown
fond of Raphel, rendering me incapable (and
ashamedly so for I am a man of alchemy) of
what is now to me a manner of heinous torture,
and not mere experimentation.
I have resolved that at first light the
creature shall meet a swift end. For I know that
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Lord Ba’al will employ an alchemist eager to
accommodate his bidding and the creature will
suffer greatly. This I cannot bear though the
cost could very well be banishment. I can do no
other. At the morrow, Raphel shall die.
Report: Dissection and Examination
Before first light, it appears that the
subject expired by means of asphyxiation. An
examination of the specimen’s holding cage
revealed that it became entangled during the
night in its restraint. It was found lifeless by
the boy Fahzid.
Hence we proceeded with a full autopsy of
the creature.
In examination of the specimen’s physiology:
I have carefully shaved the pelage from the
entirety of the specimen’s left side, exposing its
flesh, while leaving the right side whole as a
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control sample.
The dry weight of the fur approximates twenty
drachmas.
Beneath, the flesh is not as I would have
hypothesized. Instead of pinkish or white flesh,
as would be expected from bird or other fowl, the
specimen presents with black flesh the color of
wet slate, prickled with bumps as is found on
our domesticated fowl, though without quill or
feather of any kind. Rather, it exhibits pelage
that is similar in composition and texture
as might be found on Ursidae found in the
highlands.
Upon close examination with magnification
device, which I devised specifically for this
purpose, the specimen’s fur is also not as
would appear at first glance. Contrary to the
structure of the plumage common to Aves, the
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Roush’s fur appears to be hollow in structure
and void of color. In actuality, it is entirely
transparent with no color at all. I theorize that
ambient light gives the specimen’s its white
appearance and not the color of the fur itself.
I have heard reports of great Ursine creatures
found on the edge of Blue Forest that exhibit
similar qualities though I have not myself
witnessed them.
I inserted a slender needle fashioned from the
bone of a Reignak through the middle of the
specimen’s sinus cavity.
After several moments I extracted the needle,
collected trace amounts of blood and moved onto
the specimen’s left eye, which I would describe as
nearly twice normal proportions with a pupil ringed
with a vibrant green outline.
Upon penetration, the orbit of the eye sealed
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around the needle then collapsed entirely into the
orbital cavity.
I collected a good deal of gelatinous fluid,
which seeped from the eye cavity and subsequently
removed the entirety of the remaining eye tissue
and quarantined it for further study.
As with the Shataiki, I incised the specimen,
bisecting it as is common post-mortem practice.
I peeled the flesh to reveal the interior cavity
of the creature. Also as with the Shataiki, the
findings were not congruent with other animalia.
Rather than sundry vital organs filling the
specimen’s cavity, I found a luminescent fluid,
viscous and of the consistency also of tar
utilized in the production of torchieres (as found
in the shataiki). I carefully transferred the
substance to various holding dishes for further
examination. Post examination, twelve days,
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the liquid continued to issue an ambient light,
though somewhat diminished from its initial
luminescence.
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The Albinos
130
The Account of Mustul
The Taking of Writings from Thomas of Hunter
There are but two ways to conquer an enemy: by
sword or by bringing him into one’s confidence until
he considers you an enemy no more, but an ally. Then
in the warm embrace of brothers, the blade can be
plunged beneath the cloak. The former requires brute
strength, the latter sharpness of both mind and blade.
Such was the strategy to claim the prize that
Ba’al requested: certain parchments of Thomas of
Hunter, which the albino general hid away among the
tents of his people.
Of what secrets they revealed I cannot say, save
that the priest coveted them above all else. This he
made clear, that the Hunter’s writings were worth far
more than all other parchments in the kingdom and
would surely secure victories unimaginable and perhaps
lead the world’s end.
How to secure these parchments became my
obsession for many days and it vexed me so. I could not
simply take them by force. The disease, which plagues
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the albinos, makes them fierce warriors of unusual speed
and agility. Even when the tides of battle turn in our
favor, still one of their warriors can take ten or more
of ours.
No, I needed the Hunter to take me into his
confidence through a simple act of faith. Reason
over might. I would wield his own deception, which has
seduced many of our people, as a weapon stronger than
a blade.
Only then, by embracing the diseased albino, could
I defeat him. It was a lofty task, for it would require
accomplishing the mission without Hunter realizing the
ruse.
The preparation required many weeks of scheming
and preparation. I myself would become versed in the
mythology of the albinos, something of which required
burning the candle long into the night with the
Priest and his librarian, who took great care that I
understood their histories, the great romance to which
they cling and for which many have taken their own
lives by drowning in the diseased pools.
Their beliefs are savage, no doubt, and dangerous
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to the heart and mind for they are delusion fed by
disease. They are to be pitied most of all men. And it is
this with which I am most vexed. Wouldst I be strong
enough to resist the disease or at last succumb to
it? We know not how it is passed. How long can I be
among them and myself not be infected? Will I realize
my own descent into madness if it happens? The priest
warned that the disease pollutes the waters alone and
not their bodies, but of this alone we can’t be sure.
It is a danger greater than battle for it is a
walking death.
I learned of an Eramite merchant by the name of
Lemuel who held regular dealings with Samuel, the son
of Hunter, and was well acquainted with the movements
of their tribe. As with most peddlers of wares, his
services were purchased for a reasonable fee as was his
silence. Through his efforts I learned the albinos were
among the canyons northwest of Qurongi City.
There, if I survived their watchmen, I would walk into
the camp. There, I would undertake the most dangerous
mission of all: become as the albinos.
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Tomorrow I surrender myself to the albinos. I will
either return with that which I have been sent to
capture or I will succumb to their disease or the blade
of Thomas Hunter. Tremor affects my hand as I write
this. What must it be like to descend into madness
and delusion? Such would be a fate worse than death.
I am not afraid of death. However, surrendering
willingly to delusion and disease from which there may be
no escape or cure cause. I may be sealing my own fate.
At first light I approached the canyon called
Paradose in which the Eramite said the albinos were
camped. He had seen them there at dusk the day
before from high atop the ridge.
Paradose is a strategic place to sojourn, for escape
is possible to the north, west, and east. Hunter’s
prowess in such matters is unmatched. The choice of
this place was not by happenstance.
This was a place Hunter and his tribe knew well—
every corner and turn and path that led to nowhere,
every slot canyon that opened to freedom. The cracked
riverbeds in places seeped water enough to sustain a
small village. This was a land of survival and they had
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mastered it.
During a winter campaign long ago I once pursued a
Forest Guard detachment deep into the slot canyons
south of here and quickly became disoriented as they
disappeared among the passages. Four days my men and
I wandered before stumbling out.
Were Hunter as I am and not an albino, he certainly
would have been a man of renown for our people, a
warrior of unmatched skill and accomplishment.
Hands raised, I walked into the canyon as morning
shadows began to shrink. A deep chill settled between
the cliff walls that rose around. My eyes scanned the
terrain. I saw no guard or archer though I knew they
saw me long ago.
I heard the whistle of the arrow slicing wind before
I saw it. It sunk deep into the sand with a dull thud
no more than a pace ahead of me. A second and third
struck the ground next to it, forming a straight line.
The command was clear. I halted.
A call went up from somewhere to my right and
echoed against the stone. Two horsemen emerged from a
side canyon. Swords drawn, they approached calmly.
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They pulled up short of me. One was a pale colored
man, older than the second, who was a darker fellow.
They wore tunics and trousers the color of the sands.
A thick ribbon of lighter cloth wrapped their necks
to ward off the midday sun and evening chill both.
What is your business, Scab? Said the darker
one. Speak quickly or you will die where you stand.
I am unarmed, as you can see. I come in peace.
Alone.
The elder man looked at me for a long moment.
When he did speak finally, his voice was that of a
man who had witnessed too much of life to be fooled
by ruse. Peace, say you? Few come in peace, save for
those who have who have nowhere else to go. Speak
now of what peace and you may live.
The Albinos speak in a more common language than
I am accustomed to, so the words they spoke were
different than what I pen here, but my representation
of them is true, if only in my own way of speaking.
I have come to seek the way of your Elyon, said I
A Scab seeking Elyon? Said the darker. Or a
spy seeking our death?
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Never, sir, said I. What I speak is true. On the
morn of Pilgath I saw in the desert a vision and a man
dressed in white with a sash across his chest. He sat
upon a white steed and spoke to me of drowning to
find life, to return to the Great Romance. In this
vision he pointed the way. Cross the desert, said he,
to the canyonlands. There, two men will guide you in the
way to life.
Lies! Said the darker.
The elder waved him off. Let him speak. Elyon can
work wonders even among our enemies. Have we not seen
it ourselves, Remko?
Said I: I have arisen and followed his command to
this place, traveling far and at great risk. I cannot
return to my kinsman for they will surely kill me. Please,
sirs, tell me how I might learn of this Great Romance.
A vision, you say? The elder spoke. He turned to
the other. They conferred and argued before the
darker man, obviously disagreeable but under the
command of the other, dismounted and approached,
sword still drawn, fire in his eyes.
We will take you, said the elder, though on our
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terms. Elyon works many wonders. Perhaps you are
one of them. If you are not, we will know soon enough.
Either way you will meet the Maker.
As the words left his lips, the darker fellow closed
the distance between us and lifted his sword. Given
different circumstances I would have countered, but
that would not be so this time.
The butt of his sword slammed into my head. I
stumbled back and a great darkness swallowed the
world as my legs gave way.
I would either awake in the Valley of the Dead or
among the albinos.
What is your name?
The voice issued forth from the darkness, his voice
smooth and deep. He stood nearby, to my right, but
how far I could not tell.
I lifted my head from my chest. A blindfold cinched
tightly over my eyes and my hands were bound behind
me with thick ropes that bit into my wrists.
Shamus, said I. Son of Arim. I have journeyed many
days from Qurongi City. I mean you no harm.
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That remains to be seen, said the man.
This time his voice came from somewhere behind me
then to my left; his steps closer, circling me. Fine
gravel crunched beneath his footfalls.
I am Jaekan, said he. I have anticipated your arrival.
My men have been tracking you since your passage
beyond Natalga Gap.
That is more than a day’s journey, said I.
Yes, it is. When survival depends on keeping one’s
enemies in sight, having eyes everywhere is a way of life.
They found you alone, which means you are either a very
dangerous man or an outcast. Tell me, Shamus son of
Arim, which are you?
Neither, sir, but a man on pilgrimage who set out
at the command of a mystical vision of a man in white.
I have come to learn the ways of Elyon. That is all, no
more.
The man tugged the blindfold loose. It fell away,
revealing a small tent of animal hides tanned to blend
with the desert. I squinted at the bits of light that
slipped through the doorway.
He stood above me with cross arms, ruddy and
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muscular. Perhaps a man of my years. He had the stare
common of men of action who must in a moment sense
the thin space between truth and lie, life and death.
Perhaps he searched for betrayal in my eyes or a sign
of deception, yet I held his gaze unflinching.
At last he spoke. We will see about that, said he.
Very soon.
Then he turned and walked out.
The days of my capture were five during which
I remained in the tent and bound. A young man
attended me twice daily and brought food and drink
to sustain me. I am indebted to his kindness, a manner
of which I found perplexing if not fascinating. How is it
that one could regard enemies with consideration as
this?
On many occasions Jaekan returned with others,
tribal elders, to determine my true intent and what
treachery came with this lone Scab. We spoke long
into many nights. I answered skillfully and returned each
time to the simplicity of my tale, that I had seen a
vision of the man who bid me come. Great debate arose
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among them, some saying that Justin had appeared
and drawn me while others warned against my presence,
saying that Scabs were enemies unredeemable.
Each time, however, the kindness of a few among
them prevailed. Soon I found myself unbound, yet
sequestered to the tent under watchful eye.
The young boy who attended me (Taio was his name)
often spoke of the wars which he only remembers
vaguely in his youth, and he plied me with questions
regarding my people, “the Scabs” as he calls us. No
doubt, he too sought to determine the authenticity of
my claims.
On the sixth day, in the evening, the man Jaekan
returned and with him three others, including the elder
from the canyon.
Rise up Shamus son of Arim, said he. Tonight you
will join us. You will have your wish, a chance at new life.
Then after that, a choice will be made concerning you.
I stood quickly to my feet and the elder loosened
my bonds. Join you? I asked.
The elder let the ropes uncoil to the floor. Yes,
said he, you will join us as we celebrate.
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They placed a sack upon my head to blind me, yet
left my hands unbound, and led me out of the tent.
Their trust of me was not yet complete.
The night was brittle cold. By and by the sand
gave way to rock underfoot. How far outside of the
camp we were I did not know. We stopped and the
elder pulled the hood from me.
This way, said he.
I followed them by torchlight down a long narrow
canyon that appeared to end at a sheer cliff, but
angled sharply right and disappeared into a narrow
opening in the rock face. We ventured through the
cave and walked into the darkness.
Soon, the sounds of singing carried on the wind.
Beneath the ground? They grew louder as we continued
until they reached full pitch as we stepped from the
tunnel into a vast circular stone room also ringed with
torches. On the far end, carved deep in the cavern
floor, glistened a small pool and, above it, a spring which
spilled into it. Even from where we stood the water’s
bloody appearance was obvious. The poison which, I
believed was the source of their delusion.
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The people sang as one, a song of simple refrain.
Beautiful, you are beautiful, they sang. That is all,
beautiful beautiful beautiful, yet they were taken with
it and sang as if the fervency of their words held the
stars themselves in the sky.
I stood at the back with Jaekan, who joined in
the singing. Those nearby looked upon me with great
curiosity, a stranger among their gathering. No doubt,
rumors of my presence among them had circulated
throughout the small tribe. Some leaned into one
another and whispered. Others smiled. Yet more took
no notice.
I watched in fascination. It is all I could do for I
had heard rumors of these albino gatherings, how they
were filled with bizarre rituals and goings on. Such
things I did not see, but a strange people swaying and
singing, eyes closed as if whispering to an unseen lover,
unlike the staid sacrifices and rituals I witnessed among
our own people.
By and by the cavern fell silent save for the
continual splash of the crimson water. Some stood,
some knelt upon the stone in reverence, but of what I
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could not say. A long shadow was cast upon the wall
as a man stepped to the front of the gathering. My
heart quickened as his voice filled the rock cathedral.
Lovers of Elyon who have drowned in the lakes
and been given life, this is our hope, our passion, our
only true reason to live, said the man.
Thomas of Hunter looked out over the small
gathering. His voice was low though it flooded the
place.
It is as he says, the people spoke in unison.
Until then I had seen Hunter but twice with my
own eyes, once on the field of battle and the other as
my detachment pursued him into the desert. Yet here
beneath the desert sands he stood as a warrior king
that men would wish their sons to be, not a spineless
fugitive on the run as some fools might curse after too
much drink. There stood a leader with resolve as flint
and the fierce loyalty of his people. A man who, in
singleness of strength, defeated Woref, Qurong, even
Martyn himself in the greatest conflicts of our time.
A man worthy of respect, but who had simply chosen
the wrong side in his deceived state.
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I stood transfixed as he spoke. I heard little
more, though his voice echoed over us and the people
responded as one. The place hummed with the intensity
of his words and the voices of the people echoing
in the place resounded in my chest. I found myself
whispering the words with them, though as spilling from
me, unstoppable: It is as he says.
Surely what afflicted this people was not madness,
was it? Religious fervor as I have never seen, of course,
but delusion? Perhaps it was the fierce loyalty to this
man who was legend as much as flesh. Even now I do
not know. My heart, I fear, deceives me still on the
matter.
As quickly as the gathering began so it ended.
In silence the people departed, passing by me then
disappearing through the corridor until I was alone with
Jaeken and the elder. I looked about the cavern,
but there was no sign of Hunter or of the daughter
of Qurong. He had not passed by, though I did not
notice his passing. Whence had he gone?
What say you, Shamus? Said Jaeken.
I am strangely warmed, dear Jaeken.
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I stepped further into the cavern, toward the
waters edge, and watched the ripples on the face of
the pool. They at once frightened and intrigued me for
I sensed death and life beneath their surface. What
would compel a man such as Hunter to follow this way?
I felt as a man who stands on a precipice and senses a
great urge to jump, yet realizes doing so means certain
death. Strangely, the waters seemed to draw my body
toward it. Beckoning.
I stepped back.
To follow, you must drown, said the elder to me.
There is no other way. This is where your vision ends and
choice begins. From death to life.
Trembling rose within my bones. This was madness.
Surely I had underestimated the potency of this
peoples’ disease. The waters were disease! The waters
were poison! The red water was death! And they saw
it not. Yet here I stood, gazing at the shimmering
surface.
On the morrow, said I with trembling voice. I
will drown on the morrow with you, my brothers, and
Thomas as my witness. I turned to the elder. Would
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that I could drown now, yet is it not right to proclaim
it to the witness of my new brothers?
Jaeken hesitated and then nodded his assent with
a smile. Indeed. So will it be, said he. On the morrow
then, at first light. You will sleep your final night as
Horde and tomorrow wake to find new life.
We struck arms then I followed them again into
the night and returned to the camp. This time,
however, I wore no hood.
The camp was laid out just as the Eramite had
described. I saw this as we returned. In the middle was
the albinos’ tent of meeting, a squat tent of goat
skin about twice the size of those scattered about
it in irregular fashion. Here was the seat of their
tribal government. Here the elders met for discussion
of important matters. Here also lay their library, the
keeping place of their writings. Including the Hunter’s
books. It is said that in mere moments they could
disassemble the tents and vanish with nary a sign of
their stay.
The men led me back to my tent where I waited
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until the witching hour to act. Once I did there
would be no return. If I died, it would be by the sword
and not by drowning.
I awoke the two men stationed as sentry at my
tent’s entrance and told them I must speak with
Jaeken urgently for treachery was afoot that would
endanger the tribe. They would all be dead soon, said I,
if I did not gain audience with Jaeken and the elders.
One rushed away and soon returned, breathing
hard. The men would assemble in the tent of meeting
and there hear me, said he. He glared at me with
scorn. What is this about scab? Said he.
I answered not.
Soon, we made our way. As we neared the tent
of meeting I heard the murmur of voices within. Their
speaking ceased when I entered. Jaeken and six others
stood in the center of the tent around a weak fire.
Four wooden beams driven into the ground propped up
the skin roof and wooden trunks lined the walls, some
lifted open and others shut and stacked upon others.
These, the Eramite had said, held the tomes that I
sought.
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What is the meaning of this, Shamus? Jaeken
spoke angrily.
I have deceived you dear brothers, said I. Treachery
will soon be upon us all. Time is short so hear me well.
What I say is true.
At my words a great commotion arose among
the men. Some shouted that they should not have
trusted the scab, others that they were fools for
thinking Elyon could change the heart of one like me.
Jaeken lifted his hand to silence the men. Let him
speak, brothers, said he then turned to me. Make it
fast Shamus for I fear for your life.
I knelt upon the sand and looked only upon the
men’s feet in hope that my act of contrition would
lighten the load of my feigned confession.
I came here not as a pilgrim as I had said, but as a
spy for Lord Qurong.
With this the men’s voices rose in great protest.
Both fear and anger covered their faces.
I have transgressed greatly upon you and beg your
forgiveness.
Bah. Scabs know only one thing, said Remko,
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Death and war! The others muttered their agreement.
It is true, said I. I came to learn of your camp and
how the Throaters might descend upon you in triumph.
Even now, two of Qurong’s colonels are encamped on
the far side of the canyon. They await word from me
to carry back to my lord. Then they will come. All of
them as the locusts and consume you.
Silenced filled the tent.
Now that I know the truth I shan’t let this
people be attacked, said I, for what I came to destroy
I have seen with my own eyes is true and beautiful. I
came as one who would help Qurong conquer, but it is I
who has been won over by Elyon.
With many words I made my case that I came as a
dead man, but now truly wanted to drown, to join them
and be as they, that what was a ruse turned against
me and converted my motives. I would rather die among
them, said I, then to live among the cursed Scabs. I
would be an albino instead.
By and by the conviction of my words found
purchase in their hearts, however slight, and I made my
final plea.
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I will take you to these colonels that you might
overpower them and capture them, said I. Then you will
know whose I am and whom I serve.
And lead us into a trap? Snapped Marsten, one
of the younger men. Would your treachery know no
end, scab?
Then I will stay here in pledge, said I to Jaeken.
Send your strongest men. I will tell you precisely where
Qurong’s colonels lie so you might ambush them from
behind. Here I will stay, in this very tent, until your
men return and prove my true allegiance. If what I say
is so, they will come back to you unharmed. This tribe
will be safeguarded and you will know I speak the truth
with my heart.
They sent me out of the tent for many long
moments. Within, I heard the arguments of the men
sparring for my fate. Could they trust me?
Soon, their voices grew dim and I was beckoned.
The room was divided by opinion, some men stood in the
middle and others to the side, arms crossed in defiance.
Jaeken spoke and said it would be so as I proposed. I
would be held in pledge while Remko took ten others
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to the place of my telling. If they found the two
colonels as I said and returned safely then I would
drown and become as them. If they did not return by
nightfall I would be staked to the sands and left while
the tribe disappeared into the canyons.
So will it be, said I.
Three men guarded the tent of meeting entrance to
prevent any escape. I was shut in with only the light of
single lantern. Remko had set out with his men little
more than an hour previous. It would take them until
noon to reach the cave I had marked on the map.
Seven hours journey. Seven hours until they learned of
my deception.
I quietly set about searching the boxes that filled
the tent. They were large wooden crates, some sealed
with thick ropes and others open. Most held tomes
of leather wrapped parchments bundled together and
scrolls of all manner, others contained curious looking
devices of metal, which I have never before seen. I
recognized some of the books as being similar to what
I had seen in the demon Marsuuv’s lair, books of the
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histories.
None of these were my charge, however. Ba’al
coveted volumes particular to Hunter and his personal
writings. After many hours I found a box that, upon
first opening, appeared empty save for some tent stakes
and cord. Upon closer inspection a false bottom pried
loose to reveal two small books about half the size
of any others I had seen and wrapped with red cord.
I took them in hand and wiped them free of a thin
layer of dust. They were the only ones thusly bound and
marked on the corner with the general’s initial.
As I slipped them inside my tunic, faint morning
light spilled into the tent as the flap folded back.
Rise, Shamus, said one of the guards. What are
you doing?
I palmed two of the tent stakes from within the
box, one in each hand, then slowly rose to my feet
and turned toward the doorway. There stood both men,
resolute and swords drawn. They stepped toward me,
allowed the flap to fall closed, and approached. For an
instant the tent was lit but with that single lantern.
Yet my eyes were adjusted to the darkness of the
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place, theirs were not.
I crossed the distance quickly before they had
clear vision and lunged with the first stake. It punched
through the first sentry’s chest. I drove it up and
through his heart with my momentum. The only sound
he made was a muffled grunt as I drove him backward.
I shoved the first into the second man who had
come in behind. He stumbled beneath my weight and
that of the first sentry and fell to the ground, pinned
beneath us. Quickly, I plunged the second stake
through the man’s throat, burying the tip deep into
the sand beneath his head. A single exhale was all
that escaped his mouth.
I arose quickly and went to the tent’s entrance.
The haze of dawn was upon the sky and soon the camp
would arise. I stripped one of the men of his cloak and,
taking his sword, made from that place quietly. Seeing
not another soul I circled behind the tent then made
my way to a side canyon where the albinos keep their
steeds.
If Remko had indeed taken ten able-bodied men
with him, there would be few if any left to safeguard
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the tribe for there were more women and children
among them than warriors.
No opposition met me at the stable. I did not
bother with a saddle, but mounted bare back and
turned it toward the east. The Eramite had given me
a map detailing an escape route. My path would carve
a wide arc. Such a path would add two days to my
journey back to Qurongi City, but avoiding albino
contact was assured.
For once an Eramite proved trustworthy and,
after two days’ journey, I returned unscathed to Lord
Ba’al and delivered the writings of his enemy to him.
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157
Albinos
AStudy by the
Alchemist, Grushon
158
An archival record of previous interaction with
an albino subject:
Much has been written of the albinos, not the
least of which has been undertaken by certain
of my contemporaries under direction of His
Eminence, Lord Qurong, primarily for militaristic
intelligence and application.
Of the saying it is true, that a man who
knows his enemy best, the same lives to relieve him
the burden of his head. That is to say that the
knowledge of one’s enemy is the seed of triumph,
which blossoms to victory complete. Any retort of
the proverb’s wisdom would be ill-advised for it is
certainly true.
All men of learned discourse, from alchemist
to artisan, and most of the kingdom’s common
people are well acquainted with the ways and
customs of the “forest dwellers”, as they have for
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many years been called.
I myself have also given much effort to
the systematic study of the anthropology of
the species, all the while endeavoring greatly to
address such basic concerns as the biological
and cultural structures, and specifically the
social organization of this people in terms of
their superstitions, which is of particular interest
for it informs their civilization in entirety.
Superstitions
I am a man of natural means, examining
such things as can be observed and tested. I
have come to believe in my four and sixty years
that passions are fleeting, always beguiling
and sabotage even the most rigorous intellectual
pursuits. And for such reason are not entirely
untrustworthy in the search for truth, though
mostly so.
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How many a man has cast aside reason in
the pursuit of that of which he merely longs
to become convinced even as the evidence declares
him mad and a traitor of his own intellectual
integrity. One’s personal “truth” is strangely pliable,
and conveniently so, especially in matters of
spiritual import. If a man wants to believe a
thing he will, indeed, bend fact to bear its weight.
For this reason, I agree with many of my
contemporaries that the ways and customs of the
albino race as they are understood are, at best, all
a good bit of superstition and, at worst, delusion
such that must find its origin in the disease
that afflicts their community en masse.
I have long held the view that this delusion
from which all albinos suffer finds it origin
in disease strain, which is resident in their water
supply.
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Also, I assert that this pathological radical,
a condition I have termed palaoen hydrosima, can
be successfully leeched from the body through
careful and prolonged deprivation.
I believe my hypothesis is sufficiently
substantiated (the assertion of vexed pathology,
that is), for during the fall’s last harvest I
discovered in the Royal Library the record of an
inquisition of an albino scout, which had been
captured by ambush a half day’s ride from the
Great City many years ago.
Upon arrival in the City, according to the
record, his skin was smooth and inflicted with
stench common to the albinos. His eyes also
exhibited a green hue common of his kind.
The man had taken no drink since his capture
and was exhibiting mild dermatitis with early onset
of ashen flaking of the skin.
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…early requests to be allowed to drink from the
twin canteens, which had been confiscated from
his saddlebags, were of course denied. At times,
the man’s requests devolved into begging in a
manner which is uncommon among warriors
Upon inspection the man’s canteens contained
water of the same type often found in large
caches hidden in caves and canyons throughout
the Borderlands and the war routes secretly
traveled by the albinos.
I have been told that they supply caches,
which provide their warriors with water sufficient
to prolong their condition during times of
extended travel where none is available. Even
Hunter himself, I am told, drank from the cache
at which this man was captured.
The canteens were set aside for later
experimentation.
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The man (his name was Rinaldi) spoke
fervently of and often entreated the intervention
of his people’s deity (Elyon, as it were), which he
vehemently asserted would rise to his aid and, in
doing so, obliterate all within the city. None would
remain standing. This claim, of course, was the
ranting of a madman for such an end did not
come upon us. I can say this with certainty many
years post-capture.
The subject was placed on the examination
table in the laboratory and there he remained
for a matter of twenty-seven days so that the
royal physician might test the hypothesis of
pathological delusion.
Hypothesis: the albino’s skin condition and
mental delusions can be traced to their regular
consumption of diseased water. By depriving
the subject of said diseased water they will be
returned to a healthy state.
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Method:
Deprive subject of diseased water.
Record and measure physical and mental
changes.
Apply diseased water, record and measure
regression.
Deprive subject of diseased water.
*This method would be followed with captured
subject and, afterward, with a volunteer from the
army who valiantly stepped forward to also act
as a control test. (the standing physicain agreed
to this only after great debate with Lord Qurong
concerning the ethics of deliberately poisoning a
well man for scientific conjecture, though he
assented for a time.)
With the passage of days and then weeks
under the physician’s direct observation, the
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albino’s disease subsided and was soon normal in
appearance as had been postulated.
…thrice the man’s quarantined water was
applied during the course of four weeks—twice to
his limbs and once to his torso and face, and
the physician carefully went about safeguarding
a portion of his body as a control sample. With
each application, the skin sizzled visibly and
the man yelled in great agony as if he had been
plunged into a great fire (as he described it).
Excerpt from the royal physician’s laboratory
thesis:
…as I witnessed with my own eyes the near
instantaneous transformation of the skin back
to its original state when the man was brought
into my laboratory—smooth, pale, and stenched—all
upon the application of the vile water.
Poison of the most virulent variety, this water
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is. It is perhaps the most dangerous of materials
known to man, for it compromises the very
fiber of his wholeness. Thus, after application
of the water to the Horde army private Ka’tal and
witnessing his agony, I immediately dismissed him
from further experimentation (this was on the
first day of the control experiment to determine
how the effects of the forest dweller’s water
would effect normal dermis), for I could not bear
to exposure such a young man to a unbearable
experience such as this, which was tantamount
to torture. No matter the scientific progress I
could not bear it for I myself have a son of
similar age. My determination was that the results
from the subject would be sufficient.”
Mental acuity improvement
Of particular note was the transformation
of mental acuity that accompanied the man’s
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physical progression from diseased to well. Like
a man recovering from delirium induced by fever,
he soon ceased entreating deity and eventually
awakened from his confused state of mind with
clarity sufficient to entrust him to the palace
jailkeeper to be, perhaps someday, rehabilitated
and introduced into life among our own people as
an immigrant. I fully expect the man to make a
recovery for he recanted all albino superstitions
during the time of his imprisonment here of his
own volition.
-End royal physicians report
The end of the matter is this: based on my
studies and observations, albino superstition is
rooted in pathology. Just as an Eramite believes
as he does because he was born an Eramite,
so also an albino because he was born to other
albinos and raised such. The albino, if born
to an Eramite, would believe differently and so
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forth. The difference is the disease, which
plagues the albinos, which predisposes them to
such fanciful delusions.
Given sufficient time and care, I believe all
albinos could one day be liberated from their
diseased condition and lead fulfilled lives. This
would be a worthy endeavor for all of man and
an act of great tolerance and unity, though I
am so such an effort is beyond the power of any
man to undertake. The pull of superstition and
power are far too strong as our years of warfare
stand as testimony.
Also of note from the findings:
Curiosities found among the subject’s
effects, which are peculiar and worthy of remark.
I secured these from royal archives:
-One (1) ring fashioned of hammered metal,
etched with the icon often found on the forest
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dweller’s dead. Inscribed inside: Love with no end or
start. –Myra
-One (1) necklace, fashioned of slate and
bearing the forest dweller’s religious iconography
-One (1) small booklet fashioned of vellum,
which contained sketches of all manner
including the locations of water caches
containing poisoned water.
-One (1) journal, personal in nature upon
inspection, also fashioned of vellum. Of
particular note is the dating system, which the
forest dweller’s use to measure the passing of
seasons and movement of the stars. I had heard
rumors of a system developed by Thomas of
Hunter, though this was the first encounter
I have had with this rumored system. Close
examination proved somewhat enlightening,
though not entirely fruitful. (After his
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rehabilitation we will attempt a deciphering process
with the assistance of the captured subject.).
Still of undetermined meaning:
Janir
Fehn
Marn
Avila
Mia
Joon
Hilo
Sh’him
Prium
Novu
Em’manu
Jachi’in
H
arvis
Dissection of a deceased Albino
I have heretofore been unable to conduct
experimentation on a living albino subject for
many years. However, a deceased Albino, the
casualty of a squirmish between a desert patrol
and an albino detachment, was brought to my
laboratory. He was the first such casualty
in many years and I set upon the fortuitous
occasion to conduct physiological study of the
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specimen.
As might be expected, the subject exhibits a
brownish dermis, which is ostensible evidence of
the disease which unfortunately plagues this
people.
Evidence of scar tissue typical of men of
action marked the specimen’s bodies. It is apparent
that he has survived many a skirmish. I counted
two and twenty scars.
He had brown hair, cropped below the nape of
his neck, and eyes the color of emerald. He wore
the garb typical of albinos, which was soaked
through with the stain of spilled blood.
A large tribal marking is tattooed into the
specimen’s upper right arm. The insignia is
thusly and etched in color in such a way that is
uncommon to our own ways.
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Autopsy
Upon initial examination the subject exhibits
no abnormalities as might be expected of a
corpse, save for the heart. The heart, upon close
examination, was a peculiar red hue. It was
strangely so, however, as I have not before seen
in my many years. Deeply read. This is indeed a
unique finding and one that I postulate finds
its origin in the blood disease of the forest
dwellers.
Upon removal I measured its heft and girth
and determined it to be nearly twice that of our
own people. Again, I believe this to be the result
of the disease, which vexes this people.
Removal of the bowels produced evidence of
indigenous berries and trace amounts of meat,
probably lamb. I could determine nothing remarkable
concerning their diet from such a small sample.
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However, during the examination I extracted
a small iron key, which the albino must have
swallowed upon capture. Mustul has set upon a
search at the albino’s point of capture to find
the lock in which it fits. Perhaps a secret.
I also recreated the experiment, which I
conducted many years ago on a living albino
to determine the connection between the albino’s
disease and the water that is their sustenance.
It has long been rumored that the pollution of
their water source many years ago annihilated
the disease, though this is great conjecture as
is evidenced by their skin and strong adherence
to delusion. I postulated then and still believe
now that the tainting of their water, which
also transformed it to red, had merely aesthetic
effects as dying wool with indigo might.
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The death of B’Har
Case study of a possible shataiki assault
I was awakened by a fervent pounding at the
door. Upon opening it, there stood a man with a
lantern and two men beside. I recognized as a
man in the service of the Rippers. The king had
commanded that I perform a thorough examination
of the man B’Har who was found dead in the
halls of the Lord’s war counsel no more than an
hour previously.
Being the witching hour and bitterly cold, I
made haste to the palace to examine the man. I
have not been told such, but I overhead a palace
guard discuss the intrusion of a suspected
assassin. Conjecture and wild rumors about a
woman attacker swirled under hushed tone while
I worked. I forthrightly commanded that he be
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transported to my laboratory for autopsy.
B’Har expired of a violence, which I have
not seen but once when a child was brought to
me who had wandered beyond the dunes and was
mauled by pack dogs.
An extraordinary difference, however, was a
noticeable lack of blood loss with the man, for
none issued forth from him as might be expected
from such a devastating wound. Only coagulated
blood on the edge of his wound could be found.
The torn flesh on the man appeared canine in
nature, yet indicative of but one terrible bite to the
neck that nearly separated his head. His windpipe
had been torn free, exposing even the spinal
structure, sinew, and gristle connecting his head
to the body. Whatever manner of attacker this was
is unclear (though rumors of a mythic humanlike creature perpetrating this crime are rampant),
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however the speed and severity is clear. I have
little doubt that the man B’Har died before he hit
the ground.
Full dissection revealed that the man held
only half of the expected blood volume and rigor
had set in half the time as would be expected.
Also noticeable is the appearance of small,
milk white larvae resembling maggots that have
appeared since transporting the cadaver from
the palace to the laboratory. These were removed
and placed in quarantine vessels for further
examination as they closely resemble those found
once in a Shatiki specimen.
The man’s heart tissue was grey in appearance
as would be expected. However, the size of the
organ itself was thrice normal size and appeared
to have stretched to the point of failure. I know
of no other description but to say that the heart
ripped asunder within the man’s chest.
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Also of note is the bruising evident in the
ocular cavity. The man’s eyes were engorged with
blood and filmed with a red cataract where the
eyes would normally be grey. This I believe to be a
result some form of toxin, which may have been
given the man before his murder.
I know not what manner of creature or
implement is responsible for this man’s injuries
and expiration. Suffice it to say that, were it
human, it is motivated by a gruesome savagery
that is almost beyond imagining. And the absence
of blood is at once perplexing and troublesome.
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Segment 2
The Blood Books
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Of the Dreams and Visions of Ba’al
In this Blood Book, one of many Blood Books
penned in my hand I, Ba’al, high priest of the Horde,
resolve to write those obscure visions granted me in my
deepest sleep by the powers of Marsuuv whose blood flows
in my veins. They haunt me in the night, and stalk me through
the halls of this Thrall. What I once knew of another
world was blinded by ignorance; now I see more clearly.
And yet the meanings of these dreams remains beyond the
horizon of my mind like an unseen world. With each breath
it beckons me to my greatest purpose. And I see it not.
I am undone with madness.
He who has eyes to see, let him see what I have seen:
Dream: I am in a monastery, like Marsuuv’s own
lair, but in that dungeon I see only children. Shataiki
larvae crawl the walls. There are books. Books and
more books, calling me to release the story of truth. To
write it.
I see that Billos the child stands next to Billos the
man, dressed in black. And beside him, the human
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form of my lover, Marsuuv. Marsuvees Black. I see
Paradise. I see hell. I see deep tunnels; the breeding
ground of Shataiki who have entered that unseen world. I
see the one who will come as a thief bearing truth to all who
would eat of that flesh. He is a warrior, a beast, dressed
in a robe, white dipped in Black. And on his head he
wears a kingly crown fashioned from the hide of a beast who
has fed on the blood of Marsuuv.
With a stake from the Black Forest he will kill the
child, Samul. I see one call Jahny who stands with
Samul but both are to be crushed by the child Bylie,
master of the one dressed in Black. I call them to them
but they turn their backs and chose instead death.
Addendum: Under my direction, Grushon, my
alchemist, has created a potion to help me dream.
Instructed by me, he took the poisonous rhambutan fruit,
extracted its juice, then boiled it in a mixture of my own
blood which is infused already with that of the master I
serve. This elixir, I believe, will help me dream more
clearly.
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Impossible images and words have presented
themselves to me in and I awake clawing at my face,
screaming. I have tried in vain to understand more of that
ancient world from which came my greatest enemy, Thomas
of Hunter. But no elixir; no rite, no citation or sacrifice
has delivered meaning to me. I can only write what I see
and beg the understanding which flees my mind to still for a
moment so that I might grasp it.
Dream: I heard words. Rysonstrane. Vampyre.
Antichryst. Kayra Hunter, Davyd Abruham.
Denvor. Bangkuk. The Historian. Paradise… That
world which is mine to rule beyond the skin of ours.
I saw images. Bylie with black eyes, holding up
Teeleh’s cross as the a great throng worshiped at his feet.
Rebels who wore a medalion with a band of green around
the edge and a cross of red at its center, similar to those
worn by albinos.
The voices in my head whispered of the one they called
The Historian who knew the key to the mystery of Paradise
and Hunter. That it was Bylie who sent Hunter into his
madness. That it was The Historian who first penned
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Bylie and Hunter. That it was Elyon who made the
Historian. That Teeleh will soon triumph over Elyon.
And that I, Ba’al who is also Bylie, will bring
everything to its end.
Addendum: I cannot be certain of these matters, but
it is my hope that through the drinking of blood my blindness
will be rolled back and so that I might see through the waters
of time into the world of Thomas of Hunter, enemy of
Teeleh. And of the great pretender named Samul.
For it is my certainty now that there I am that child named
Bylie who is to be the antichryst in a world beyond our own.
I am certain as well, that Thomas of Hunter is the key to
the world.
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Manifesto of Ba’al
High Priest of the Horde
While I stand above everything ever accomplished by
the priests of Teeleh, I acknowledge the advances made by
those who came before.
It was Witch, the first priest of Teeleh, who first
brought Religion to the Horde, and thus brought order to
anarchy. It was his rule that paved the way for Qurong,
the firstborn of Horde, to grab political leadership. Had
Witch the ambition desired by Teeleh to instill the full weight
of religion perhaps I would not be fighting against Qurong
for power now. Yet it was his weakness that gives me my
power and ministry now. And it was Witch who first
turned the people towards Teeleh. It was his desire for
the Books of History that laid the foundation for my work.
They called him the Dark Priest, but in truth I, who was
once a wretch named Billos in the service of Thomas of
Hunter, am he.
After the death of Witch came Ciphus the Halfbreed. Ciphus was the former religious leader of the
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Forrest Dwellers before the death of the heretic, Justin.
Elyon’s waters ran red with blood, which gave rise to
the insidious rebellion of those, the Circle as they call it,
diseased by those red waters. Ciphus wisely continued his
Religion as Horde. This all took place in the days I
spent at the feet of Marsuuv, my lover.
Ciphus reigned for only a year, being killed at the hands
of Sucrow three months after the whore Chelise betrayed
the Horde, seduced by Thomas of Hunter. Sucrow’s
claim that Half-breeds could not lead the Religion caused
Eram and his followers to defect and form their city of
half-breeds in the desert. Sucrow’s advances in the
science of Religion, his mastery of the black arts, and his
assembly of Throaters were the precursors to my reign
as High Priest. He was felled when his own plans to
bind Shataiki to his will backfired. Derias, a queen
of Teeleh, ate his flesh when the amulet meant to control
Derias landed in enemy hands.
It was then that Marsuuv sent me, his Lover. I came
into Qurongi City, a black-cloaked monk from the desert.
I now see that I was their Marsuvees Black. The
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Black Priest, bring grace and hope to a people left
without a leader. Like sheep, the Horde folded to my will.
I became a god among men in their eyes. Thousands
came to be consecrated as priests of Teeleh. Those
whom I accepted, I gave his mark upon their forehead or
right hand and trained them in the dark arts. Having been
trained by Marsuuv, Queen of Shataiki, my power was
second to none.
I assembled my warrior-priests and set about the
task of destroying both the Eramites and the Circle while
covertly undermining the leadership of Qurong in the eyes of
the people. Our leader has he not tasted Shataiki blood.
He is weak, unable to keep his own household in the faith of
Teeleh. When he has served his purpose he will die by
my own sword.
This is the plan of Ba’al, High Priest, lover of
Marsuuv, Queen of Teeleh: I shall raise an army of
Throaters warrior-priests who have taken the blood of
Shataiki and bow only to my command. They will be my
first lines in the battle of Age at Miggdon. My prophets
will call forth legions of Shataiki.
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And then I will crush Eram and annihilate the
Circle. I will learn the secrets of the ancient world and
enter it, and there I will rule as I rule here. The worlds
will unite and cower with fear under me, or they will fall.
And the great god Teeleh will reign forever and ever,
amen.
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Of Albinos and Their Lies
Here among the Horde, I cannot reveal that I am,
like Ciphus, a Half-breed. It is not hard to maintain
this, as I prefer to only think of the things since my salvation.
Yet ne-ither do I think of myself as fully Horde. Rather,
I stand above them as a god among men, part-Shataiki,
part-Horde—like the perverted race known as Leedhan,
rumored to dwell on the other side of our world.
Having lived among the albinos, among the Shataiki,
and now among the Horde; having in my own blood
the nature of Bylie from another world I am beyond
reproach. Only I understand the full truth of the worlds,
worthy to unmask the lies of Thomas of Hunter. Was it not
I who sent him on his fated task?
These are the 5 greatest lies of the Albinos:
1) That they are saved by the blood of Justin, a heretic
who came to bring peace rather than war.
2) That the Horde carry a disease which they call
the scabbing disease. In reality it is they who have been
poisoned by the red waters.
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3) That religion is evil. In truth, religion is the basis
for all control and power among created beings.
4) That the pursuit of affection, called love, is the way
to find their Maker who pursues them in kind. Yet they have
not fed from the Queens or been slashed with his talons.
They know nothing of love.
5) That their enemy is to be loved, not destroyed.
Utter folly.
What they cannot know is that their impossible beliefs only
make them coward. If Elyon is a god of power, as is
my god, Teeleh, then I say let the two meet in battle and
may the more powerful stand victor. They cannot know that
their god is weak and impotent, and thus avoids a conflict he
cannot win. Elyon is a god propped up by the sticks of
his followers—his power lives only in the demented mind of
those who follow him.
They pervert the Great Romance of Teeleh, making
Teeleh’s Love through the shedding and exchange of blood
some farce of singing and dancing. They commemorate
their god on his alleged providence in the dimly remembered
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past by playing games and singing songs; I celebrate my
god in power by living out his decrees in my life.
When I have gathered my armies in full force and am
prepared to dethrone Qurong the pretender, then shall the
albinos taste the meat of their lies even as they taste the cold
metal of my blade. Blessed be the name of Teeleh, and
Marsuuv his Queen.
Religion Blood and the Power to Bind
As commanded by my lover Marsuuv, I have built
upon the foundation of religion. Religion, it is said, is the
most powerful force in the world. Sharper than any twoedged sword, even to the dividing of bone and marrow.
It is in religion rather than faith or love that man
transcends himself and feasts upon the higher powers. It is
here that man chooses to be of Elyon or Teeleh, Roush
or Shataiki, and binds himself through blood by blood to
power.
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Blood has in it the power to bind one to the will through
the ritual of religion. It is why the albinos allegedly drown
themselves in the diseased pools and awaken themselves to
a new affection. But true religion is in obedience to a
master, not in affection. The priests of Teeleh follow true
religion. We obey or we die an eternal death in hell.
The power to obey is found in the blood. Did not
my lord and lover commune with me through the partaking of
blood at our last supper? Therefore, it is blood on which
we base our religion. We serve Teeleh, a god of blood,
who demands the veins of his followers.
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Excerpts from the Blood Book of
Thomas of Hunter
In my quest to better understand that great enemy, the
albino, whom I have resolved to crush, I dispatched my
most trusted warrior, Mustul, to bring me the writings of
Thomas of Hunter, their leader. He successfully acquired
one of the albino’s Blood Books from which I have
extracted the most pressing of entries to include here in my
own Blood Book.
Much of what is written in these pages consist of
deception and lies which give insight into the diseased mind
of the albino. Some betrays a secret knowledge of magic
and dreams of another world which I know to have basis in
fact for I too have seen a part of that world in my past life,
before I became a half-breed.
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The Blood Book of
Thomas Hunter
Year 26, Entry 14
Tonight I sit alone in my tent, a days ride from the camp.
A great sense of nostalgia has ridden with me these past days,
and my mind has been taken back to the world of my dreams. I
have rarely written my understanding of what happened to me in
the interest of our great task here in the desert. But when the
past calls to me, I find myself compelled to write at least some
of what I recall.
It must be real… And so I will write as if it is.
I live in historic times. One could say that I’ve lived two
lives. For the first twenty some years of my life, I was Thomas
Hunter—a wild child of the jungle who moved to the concrete
jungle in Ancient Earth where I first dreamed of this world,
assuming it only a dream. And yet here I sit, in the flesh, thinking
that my life in Ancient Earth might have only been a dream. But
that is wrong.
Through my bridging into this world, I learned of the Raison
Strain and brought knowledge of it back to Ancient Earth. As
such, I was ultimately responsible for the plague that nearly
destroyed Ancient Earth. Then, by the grace of Elyon and through
my own death, it was circumvented.
Yet this world still exists. I have called it Other Earth, though
considering that I have now lived out more of my life here,
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perhaps the twenty-first century world should be called Other
Earth, an earth I will never return to, because on that earth I
am dead. Which means I only delayed the apocalypse. At the very
least, the whole of history was hardly altered.
This is what I know: Elyon remade the world again after an
apocalypse. He created a new Adam, Tanis, and this time he made
all things spiritual, visible. If the lore and legend is correct, than
Tanis was firstborn in the year 4036 according to the ancient
method of dating. So, for myself at least, everything after 2010
actually happens in 4036. It’s confusing—maybe one day I’ll
chart it all out.
It’s strange to think that actually living on earth two
thousand years after the year I was born. I try not to think
about it. My people here, born of Elyon’s blood, are my life, but
they know only this world and can’t begin to fathom Ancient
Earth.
When I tried to explain it to my wife Rachelle before
her death, she found it all off putting. If she struggled to
understand, how much more the rest of the Circle? Chelise, on the
other hand, is much more open to discussing it, perhaps because
she too, once being Horde, has seen such change in her life. She
alone among the Circle understands me for who I am, and even
then barely. So I keep thoughts of the Ancient Earth to Chelise,
myself, and on occasion to this book of blood.
There are times I wonder about my sister, Kara, and how she
moved on after my death. I think of Monique whom I loved on
that earth. What has become of her? Did she marry? Does she
have children? Is she still alive? Did my blood, cleansed by Elyon,
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give her a life’s work of curing diseases?
I’ll never know. I would ask the Roush, but none have seen
hide nor hair of any Roush for many years now. It is almost as
if, with the Circle being wedded to Justin, the Roush have found
their mission complete and vanished. The same can be said of the
Shataiki. Their influence, once so pervasive, seems to come about
in more unseen ways in this day.
I can only assume that Elyon has returned this world to the
ways of the Ancient Earth, where the spiritual is hidden to the
eyes of man. Perhaps I have entertained a Roush unawares and
have not even realized it? Or perhaps the eyes of man have
dimmed to the spiritual so that we no longer see what once was
plain.
If that is Truth…Elyon help us all.
I still have dreams of Ancient Earth and in some of them, I
fail in my journey. That killer, Carlos, shoots me dead. The mocking
face of Teeleh leers over me. I awake, always in cold sweats. A
part of me wonders who really won that epic war at the end of
the last Age? After all, Elyon did have to recreate the earth. Or
perhaps he fulfilled it and brought it into a new paradise, but the
will of man destroyed it once again.
I’ve on particularly strange dream which has reoccurred. It’s
bizarre. I see a boy, pencil in hand, smudging the writing in a
leather-bound Book and writing over it. I see the inscription: Then
the man named Thomas found himself in the black forest, where
he fell and hit his head and lost his memory. – Billy, Storyteller.
So could it be that this is the reason I bridged the worlds?
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Because a storyteller named Billy rewrote my history—and in
doing so, rewrote the Histories—by writing in one of the blank
Books of History which passed through time? Elyon has been known
to communicate his thoughts through signs, wonders, and dreams.
Or perhaps my dreams are the result of too much fruit before
bed.
It’s late and too silent…
Note by Ba’al: Billy the Storyteller… I can only
assume this to me be. That I was somehow the cause of
this scourge brought to us by Thomas. This is why I was
chosen by Marsuuv. I have the ability to do and undo and
as such my power is greater than any living soul. I am, in
truth, the master of Thomas of Hunter. And now I will
crush him.
Year 26, Entry 18
DATES AND THE HISTORIES
I have been working on a timeline based on my best
recollection of both worlds. To the best of my knowledge, here is
that timeline:
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A Timeline of History of Ancient Earth
0029 – Jesus, who is named the Christ, is crucified and
resurrected.
1986 – Thomas Hunter is born.
2010 – Thomas Hunter is sent into the future by the
Storyteller, Billy, who writes in a blank book of history which came
through time and was later discovered.
40?? – Elyon begins a new age with a new Adam, Tanis.
(Before the release of Evil from the Black Forest, Time was
not counted in the colored forest so the date of that time is
unknown)
4036
(01 in new years) – Tanis drinks Teeleh’s water.
03 – The first attack of the Desert Dwellers
05 – Samuel of Hunter is born of Thomas and Rachelle.
13 – Johnis, Billos, Darsal, and Silvie are named to the Forest
Guard. They are the Chosen Ones and vanish.
16 – The Great Sacrifice of Elyon. The death of Rachelle.
Seventeen drown to become the first of the Circle, followers of
Justin in death and new life.
17 – The great romance of Thomas Hunter and Chelise of
Qurong.
20 – It is rumored that Johnis, Darsal, and Silvie are seen
amongst the Horde.
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21 – Jake of Hunter is born of Chelise.
26 – The current and present year.
Year 26, Entry 41
THE GREAT ROMANCE AND CHRISTIANITY
When first I bridged the worlds into this future age I would
not have claimed that I believed in God. My father, A Christian,
destroyed his family—it was enough to convince me that God did
not exist. He was simply a cosmic figurehead invented by men
with black coats and white collars to control the masses. Society
demanded a moral code; religion provided the chains of fear that
made men follow that code. The code changed throughout history
and was defined by sect. Writings were canonized and made holy
by politicians who sought power. Crusaders led battles with their
hands on those books, inquisitions were blessed by me in tall hats,
world wars were waged in the name of superior understanding of
the Christian way. I believed that religion was pointless.
Then when I bridged the worlds, all my ideas of God and
religion turned upside down with one word: Elyon.
God was real, and religion was his enemy. I met him in the
flesh and communed with him. I had walked hand in hand with the
creator, saw his mighty works, tasted his fruit.
My understanding of that religion called Christianity in
ancient earth is vague, to be sure. I was never too interested
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then, and my perception is now colored by my experience here, in
this world. But what I see know is vastly different from what I
little I recall of the world’s beliefs in ancient history, where I was
born.
The boy Elyon was so unlike the God of the Christians, or the
Muslims, or the Jews, or any other religion. He is revolutionary, so
much more powerful than the God of the Christians. So then was
Elyon truly God? This was answered emphatically when first I dived
deep into his Lake.
So then how did the God of this future compare to the
world’s understanding of God on ancient earth? How could I
reconcile a God who did not find it fit to save his children from
brokenness with a God who actually played with his creation.
The dichotomy is enough to make me wonder about the nature
of these two worlds in which I’ve lived. At times it seems as
though there’s one reality where God is real, and another where
he is not, or at least absent and left mankind to their own
devices, absent any tangible presence of God. Then again, along
with the Roush, Elyon is strangely silent here now as well, and just
as in the Histories, it is hard to romance an absent lover.
In the days after evil fell upon the earth, it seemed as
if Elyon had abandoned us. The Colored Forest turned to gray.
The sparkle in Rachelle’s eyes faded and her beauty seemed to
pale. Without Elyon, the very thing of beauty, there could be no
beauty. It was like the ancient earth—devoid of a God. Perhaps
it was why I, already knowing good and evil, already accustomed
to the absence of God, that allowed me to come into leadership
within the Circle. Of course, it was not as if Elyon had abandoned
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us completely, but compared to the level of intimacy he shared
with his creation beforehand, he might as well have.
We all grew accustomed to these new rules of engagement.
Bathe in the water daily, think of Elyon often, but we could no
longer relate to Elyon in the same way we had in the lakes. But
how, having once met Elyon, could we ever forget such intimate
fellowship? Yet we did.
It’s strange to think that Justin, who was actually the boy
Elyon now grown, walked and spoke to me and I did not see the
boy him. Light came unto darkness, and we did not understand it.
Elyon came and instead of welcoming him with open arms we killed
him. May Justin forgive us all.
Year 26, Entry 42
I continue writing about what I wrote yesterday regarding
the matter of religion. Is Justin the Christ? Yes, I am certain
of it, but it’s an issue I keep coming back to, not because of
the similarities but because of the differences. I am no religious
scholar—Ronin handles spiritual matters; I provide political
leadership. But I’ve been in both worlds and have a unique
perspective.
It has been many years since I was last on Ancient Earth,
and my memory is trapped in a dream, but the Christianity of
those dreams is unlike the Great Romance in significant ways.
Does that mean that Christ was unlike Justin? Never. Yet the
Christ preached by Christians is not the Justin I know.
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On the other hand, the Christ in The Books of Histories
According to His Beloved better known as the Gospel of John
in Ancient Earth, IS written about the Justin I know. Yet
Christianity seems to have high-jacked his teaching and turned
him into something for their own gain, using his name to attain a
rigorous standard by which they controlled ordinary people. Not
all promoted this Christ of religion, of course, but in general and
throughout Ancient Earth’s history, Christianity represented the
very kind of religion that the Christ fought against.
As I recall, Christianity, like most religions, promoted one idea:
If you don’t follow the right laws and recite the right prayers
as a statement of your heart’s intent, then you will face a
horrible eternity of torment. If you do follow the laws and say
the right prayers, heaven awaits. Those laws and prayers changed
dramatically over time, depending on who was promoting them.
But the Christ in the Beloved’s gospel made no such claim.
Surely, if Elyon wanted to bring this message to the people, he
would have said it as clearly in the Christ. What he did not say
clearly seems as important as what he did say clearly.
The Christ gave different answers to different followers
who asked what they must do to find eternal peace and yet as
I recall all of his answers were expressions of love. Love your
neighbor as yourself; love your enemies; turn the other cheek; let
the man without sin cast the first stone; judge not lest you be
judged; take the log out of your own eye before you take the
speck out of your brother’s eyes; feed the hungry, care for the
sick, visit those in prison… All expressions of love that lead one
to join him in paradise.
209
If there are sheep and goats among us as he says, and
those sheep are albinos and the goats, the Horde, then what
of a the albino who does not follow the ways of Justin? It is a
great mystery to me for I would say that following Justin is
not only a matter of drowning but of following the ways of the
Christ for many on that day will be convinced they are fully albino
and call Justin lord only to learn that they have not loved the
criminal in prison and find themselves a goat.
Ronin and I have discussed this at length as have many of
us, and it is still a great mystery to us. But in the end we are
convinced that we must love the Horde—it’s is the way of the
Justin who is our Christ.
This is why I think the Church of the last age lost the truth
in the Christ’s teaching. Instead of hearing his call to love they
set up for themselves a Christ in their own image, their own
likeness. They then judged all who would not follow in their path,
often with great passion and lofty words.
But I must confess, I wonder if I am arrogant to assume
we have it right in this age. We too killed Justin. Can we believe
that we understand Elyon?
But there is faith, there is hope, there is love.
And the greatest by far, is love.
So be it.
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Note: I find all of this hogwash, naturally, but I have
included these entries from the albino’s blood book to show
just how distracted and weak their disease makes them.
If not for their craftiness and intelligence they would be
sitting prey. In all of this, not one mention of the power of
Teeleh! Religion is our salvation, not our demise! And
Teeleh’s blood brings true life, not this Christ’s of his.
Year 26, Entry 44
I’ve been consumed with the matters of understanding Elyon
as of late. It is said: whoever drinks of the water of Elyon
partakes in the life of which he freely offers. It is why the
Green waters of Elyon healed—for they were his life. And the
Red waters of his blood? How much more of his life are they!
Unfathomable! It is written in The Books of Histories According to
His Beloved, that when the flesh of the Christ was pierced, blood
and water flowed. From the flesh of God, life freely flowed and
brought salvation to all men. Blood and water.
It also true that death is not such the terrible thing we
have made it. In living we die, in dying we live. It is our death
to this world that brings us to another life. This is my hope for
Rachelle. For every soul called by the boy, by Justin, by Elyon.
And yet death pains us so… Why? Because we see you little
of lies beyond? Because we are severed from the love that held
us captive here, bound not only to Justin but to each other?
211
My thoughts on this change day by day. So many of us have
been killed in the last few years, hunted by those throaters in
Ba’al’s command. Not long ago the Circle celebrated physical death
primarily as the passing from this world into another, but, while we
still call a funeral a passing, our mourning is deeper.
It is true that death brings with it separation and
for ourselves we mourn such, but our mourning must still be
celebration. And yet the hope of a greater reality seems to dim
with each passing year. I myself feel it and seem powerless at
times to grasp what was once to plain to me.
Yesterday Marcus, a dear friend and lover of Justin, was
found in the desert two days from out camp. From what we could
tell, his horse had taken a fall and Marcus broke his leg. We
found him dead, four days later. Watching his young daughter,
Ellen, only eleven, cry I was overwhelmed with sorrow.
None of my sorrow is for myself because I really don’t fear
death. I consider myself dead already. I have died in the lake and
now live in world for a short time, awaiting my departure.
But still… What if it were Samuel, dead on the ground? Or
Chelise, or Marie? Elyon help, me…
Year 26, Entry 54
It still amazes me every morning that I get to wake up
next to this beautiful creature named Chelise. After Rachelle’s
death, I assumed that such love was dead to me, but Elyon
opened my eyes and showed me his love. My love for Chelise is a
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pale imitation for His love to all—Horde, albino, or Eramite. He
wishes that all would come into his Circle.
It is written that Elyon is love, and when we love truly, we
engage in the practice of communing with Elyon. It is why the
Christ spoke as the Prophet of Love, because to share love with
one’s enemies is to impart Elyon unto them, to show them the
face of the Father.
Our Great Romance between ourselves and Elyon are
shadowed in our human romances. Such romance is fallible and
less pure than in times past before the great deception, but it
remains beautiful to woo and be wooed. We wander far too easily in this world. I’ve lived in this
strange and exciting land for a little over half my life and been
a part of the most epic of times of history, and yet life can
seem so mundane, so normal, so bland.
We spend our entire lives in an attempt to be adults, not
realizing that in rightly shedding our childishness and immaturity,
we also throw away our childlikeness and sense of wonder. But it is
not wrong to be childlike!
To lose our childlikeness is to forget to marvel at the
mysteries of Elyon, or worse yet, to claim that those things never
existed. What once made us gape in awe and giggle with delight
is now seen as childish fantasy, as the same old, same old.
And what is the most mysterious thing of all but Love?
Certainly the Great Romance is wrapped in wonder, certainly the
bed of man and wife knows of playfulness. To love in any way is
to be like a child—it means to be vulnerable, to be wide-eyed, to
213
be selfless. There is no such thing as free love; love is the most
costly expression in the world. To love romantically is to give of
oneself fully and completely, a merging and meshing of souls so
that the twain become a unity. It is to allow the sense of wonder
to fully enrapture.
To experience love—whether love of man or God—we must
recapture the wonder we have lost and become as children, wideeyed, playful, and in awe.
And that is who I am when I approach Chelise, my love.
A Musing of Love
Love secretly hidden, love tucked away
A love forbidden that cannot overflow
Love locked up, suppressed, concealed
A love concealed deep within my soul.
Love yearns to draw me into life sublime
So that love could unabashedly show
Love’s true affections deep and dear,
A love deep within my soul.
But love for love cannot force love
214
Lest love turn to hate and blacken the soul
The decision to love must be freely made from love
A love deep within your soul.
Love cannot be silent any longer,
Love’s scandal must be revealed and take its toll
Horde or no, I love you with everlasting love,
A love deep within my soul.
Love released, Love unfurled,
Love that nigh consumes the whole
To crash against your heart to mine:
A love deep within my soul.
Note: Utterly absurd, all this drivel, directed to whom?
And yet it reflects a haunting in my own soul, draw to
Marsuuv. It is this that draws me to see the great contest
between Elyon and Teeleh, vying for the love of man. I
have obsessed over this musing and cut my arms in reciting
it, vowing my allegiance to my Lover to whom I repeat
these same words.
215
Year 26, Entry 78
I don’t not know what is going on with Samuel. It is like
my boy has been possessed by another. At first, I brushed his
attitudes aside as a childish yearning for power. Then I realized
that he was no longer a child.
True, the drowning of Justin and his institution of a new
covenant occurred right as Samuel was to make that jump from
boy to young man. His aspirations of being a member of the
Forest Guard, of fighting by my side, were never realized. To him
it must have seemed as if he had been made for something and
then had it ripped away.
Ever since Rachelle’s death, Samuel had longed to fight the
Horde. Even as Justin’s sacrifice shifted the Circle’s paradigm
from war to love, Samuel’s own paradigm shifted from righteous
war to revenging war. Yes, he accepted the sacrifice of Elyon
and willfully drowned, but that only pushed back the feelings of
revenge that still waged within him. I naively thought that under
Elyon’s care, and once he completed adolescence, they would go
away. I was wrong. And now he could be the undoing of us all.
Year 26, Entry 78
How can I be fit to lead the Circle if I can’t maintain
control of my own house? Samuel’s rebellion fractures not just
my family but the Circle as a whole. He has taken to gallivanting
around the desert with a small group of kids about his age. They
dress in the garb of the Guard and practice their swordplay
216
and fighting skills. Some men in the village call it all harmless fun,
others look at me askance as if it’s my fault the youth are
being corrupted. And perhaps it is.
To counter Samuel now would only incite even more rebellion.
To leave him be is to either backhandedly approve or tacitly
acknowledge I cannot control my son. Either could be fatal to
the Circle. Dear Elyon, what am I supposed to do? I know now
how Elyon feels when we reject his love. I can’t force Samuel to
choose love anymore than Elyon can throw the Horde in the red
lakes. The potential for evil gives people the freedom of choice,
and with that freedom comes the ability to truly love. I would
not dare strip Samuel of his capacity to love! But it breaks
my heart—and threatens my people—to allow such rebellion to
continue.
I have made mistakes in my love, I should have taught
Samuel better, I should have made sure he understood. In my
duties to the Circle, I am afraid I neglected my duties to my
son. And due to my folly, the Apocalypse may come upon this world
as well.
~~~
I see a lot of me in my boy. At times it makes my chest
swell with a father’s pride. But my weaknesses are also his.
I see his passion, and I love him for his wide-eyed zeal and
wholeheartedness but I’m afraid the object of his passion is
destructive. There’s darkness in his heart, shadows of Teeleh over
his soul. Still a child of Elyon, for he yet bears the clear skin of
an albino, but not following the ways of Elyon.
217
I regret that in his youth we spent many more hours
learning the art of war rather than the art of romance.
I regret that in my own passion to destroy Elyon’s enemies I
deprived my son of the father he needed.
I regret that I allowed my own pain over Rachelle’s death
to overshadow his.
I regret that I allowed others to call him “son of Thomas”
rather than just “Samuel.”
I regret that I placed upon him expectations no young man
should have to face.
Perhaps if I had been a better father… Perhaps.
Note: Samuel is the key to his father’s undoing, I can
feel this in my blood. The opportunity to use him against
Thomas will present itself and I will seize it. The
most favored among the Circle will be their final undoing.
Wasn’t I once among their most favored? A chosen
one? And now I am their master, borne of new
blood…
Year 26, Entry 97
I was reading an old journal today and came across this
218
entry and it breaks my heart. Did it all begin then, in that time
of war?
He’s seven and I’m headed out to infiltrate the Horde
encampment with a dozen of my best men. I walk in to kiss
Rachelle goodbye and I see my boy standing in the common room,
wielding a wooden sword and oversized leather armor meant for
sparring. He asks to come with me. I grin and tousle his hair.
War is no place for a boy, I say. I see his grin dissipate into
a disappointed frown. I just want to be with you, he says. The
words haunt me.
How can a boy steeped in conflict and warfare wash it from
his mind? Having drowned he is a new man, but the old lingers still,
as in all of us. This is a great mystery to me…
Year 26, Entry 100
Thinking of Samuel these past days brings back to mind the
Chosen One, another boy. I made several entries about Johnis of
Ramos then and I’ve dug them out to place here.
THE CHOSEN ONE
The Chosen One was prophesied some years ago, soon after
Elyon led us to the green forest. The one bearing the Circle’s
emblem as a birthmark would be marked by Elyon to save the
219
world. And so I waited for a hero to be born.
I never expected it to be Johnis of Ramos. I watched him
grow, but not into a warrior. In retrospect, I should have seen
that if Elyon could turn me, a failed novelist from another reality,
into the man I am now, then he could also turn this lover into a
fighter. Didn’t Elyon always take the weak things of this world and
make them confound the strong?
When I engaged the Chosen One during the game of Horde
Ball, I could only pray to Elyon that it was the right decision.
I felt badly enough about throwing mere children to the wolves
of the Horde, even though they had been trained as warriors. I
wasn’t sure Johnis could swing a sword, let alone wield it without
dismembering himself.
I selected a good crew to surround him and build him up, but
by the looks of things they will be more likely to attack him than
the Horde. Billos is strong and impetuous. One of the best natural
swordsmen I have ever seen. Darsal is the classic shield-maiden
of the Guard. Not since Rachelle have I seen a woman fight so
gracefully in hand-to-hand combat. Silvie has cat-like reflexes and
agility as well as a mind nearly as sharp as her throwing knives.
If they all learn to work together, they will some of my most
treasured warriors.
I think they could be destined for greatness. They are
chosen, after all, and Elyon does not choose for only the purposes
of men. Only time will tell what adventures will greet them. But for
now, gathering a few Catalina cacti should be done easily enough.
~~~
220
Johnis, Billos, Darsal and Silvie have returned heroes today…
They gave us quite the concern for a few days but I see
greatness in them, particularly Johnis. So I was right after all.
~~~
That fool! That imbecile! That idiot! Chosen One or not I have
half a mind to string him up by his toes in the circle and let the
village children poke him with sticks. To take command of one of my
battalions under the guise of having my authority and lead them
to their deaths is beyond irresponsible. Men are dead because of
him. Elyon doesn’t make mistakes, of this I am sure, but men do.
Perhaps we’ve misunderstood who the Chosen One would be.
~~~
Chosen as lieutenants in my Forest Guard and yet they seem
to be AWOL more often than not. Something’s wrong. They say
nothing, but their questions and attitudes say different. I knew
they were destined for something more than just service in the
Guard, but now I’m questioning all of it.
~~~
Dead? I refuse to believe it, but what else can I say now?
They haven’t been seen for a month. They’re good but if you
don’t have any water to bathe in, it doesn’t matter how skilled
you are. You can’t kill what you become. The only good news is
that we haven’t faced them as Horde yet.
Ramos is beside himself. Lost a wife and a son only a few
months apart. I’ve released him from active guard duty while
promoting him to sergeant. The man has a good mind—providing
he doesn’t lose it here—and will be useful in drawing up battle
221
plans. He doesn’t like the idea. Like any Guard, he’d rather be
avenging his son’s death by the sword. But the thought of leaving
his little Kiella alone is enough to get him to realize the folly of it
all.
Even worse is that Karas is missing. Our scouts sent out
a search party to look for her, but to no avail. Our intelligence
sources say that she was last seen with Darsal, so in all likelihood
she is with the four as well.
I’m taking a lot of criticism from the council. I pardon Johnis,
only to have them all run off never to be seen from again. They
see them as traitors like Jackov, defectors to the Horde. I do
not know what to believe. My mind tells me that the council is
correct, or at least that evidence backs their side. My heart
remains utterly confused. I can only pray Elyon knows more than
I. Of that I can be sure…
Note: And here is the end of the matter. I was the
chosen one, both by Elyon and by Teeleh. This is
the greatest deception, that the man placed in such high
esteem, that first Adam, became the undoing of all through
the great wisdom of Teeleh. It matters not what Elyon
would do, Teeleh will undo it.
I was chosen by Elyon as Billos, fashioned by God
as Billy, became the master of all at the hands of
Teeleh as Ba’al. For I was born of Black, eaten
222
with worms; I’m a saint, a sinner, a siren of the word. I
am Ba’al, I am Billos, I am Billy. Drink my
blood and know true power. Baby.
223
The BlOOd Book of Marsuuv
Queen of the Shataiki
Lover of Ba’al
It is with trembling hand and fearful heart that I sew
in the few of the pages taken from the queen’s lair where
I, Ba’al served my master and lover, Marsuuv. When
he discovers the pages missing his rage may be beyond
measure. My only hope rests in his knowledge that they
are safe guarded by me, his servant, for the purpose of
emboldening me in my task and preserving my fervor.
The pages came to me by way of Mustul and despite
my trepidation, I owe him my deepest gratitude. For in
these pages remains the truth of Marsuuv’s undying love for
me.
I will prevail. My mind, my heart, my life are his…
224
THE WRITINGS OF MARSUUV
QUEEN of TEELEH
As have taken blOOd in hand to scribe the Story of
the Master TEELEH, I find myself compelled to record my
annals, if not for my purposes than for the purposes of
opening eyes of future generations. I am not one of the
Gehuzim, the scribes of TEELEH who record history, yet I
write. My will shall succeed that I should be brought unto
glory.
QQQ
Not of TEELEH’s twelfth Queen, I shall become his
first and sit at his right hand. Alucard, once- favored,
failed his task at retrieving the Books, and yet still
manages to curry his master’s favor by spreading his
offspring through human blOOd in Adam’s World. But I
would be more lusted than he.
QQQ
Alucard’s device to unite the seven original Books of
History which served as the foundation that underlies history
failed. Not all was lost in that endeavor. I did capture
one of the humans and did seduce him to see my beauty.
He is my human apprentice. My child. My lover. TEELEH
had Tanis; Alucard had Darsal; and now I have my Ba’al
to ensure that the work of TEELEH is done.
QQQ
No longer will we seek the Books for the purpose of
225
rewriting the rules of History. Instead I have trained my
slave, my lover, my child in my ways and send him as a
favored Son to the Horde. Though one of them, he shall not
be like them, for the blOOd of Shataiki flows through his
veins. He will woo the Horde to battle against the haters
of TEELEH. With my power, he shall crush the children of
Elyon and make way for the reign of TEELEH in the hearts
of men.
QQQ
With the Books, we shall enter Adam’s World and
crush it. Elyon’s failure to seduce will again be revealed,
a god without a people, a shell of TEELEH, while the
great Master shall reign. And his Queen MARSUUV sits
at his right hand.
Of the son of Adam, Hunter
I was next to TEELEH when he encountered Hunter in
the Black Forest; it was I who took a chunk of his thigh.
By the taste of his blOOd he wasn’t from this world. His
blOOd was tainted with the knowledge.
QQQ
TEELEH’s device to seduce him and drink failed only
to the demise of Tanis. Elyon confined us to the Black
Forest, yet those who kiss his feet are allowed to encroach
on our territory and take what is rightfully ours. Thomas
would have had his eyes fully opened, and we would have
gained a great ally in the war against the boy. Now he
remains under the influence of the deceiver and we have
gained a great adversary to sew hatred in the hearts of
men. In this TEELEH’s wisdom is beyond reproach.
226
QQQ
I soon learned that my suspicions were correct. For
TEELEH spoke: “He fulfills my device. You will bring him
here from the World of Adam. You will speak into a son
and bring him to me.”
QQQ
And so I did. I conspired to fashion my likeness the
Black one, Marsuvees and I did seduce him to write those
words which brought Thomas to us as instructed by my
master, TEELEH.
QQQ
In Adam’s World man was liberated from the tyranny
of Elyon. The magnificent device of TEELEH was at work.
Through Vampirum a virus was released and did cause death
to those who would not open their eyes to Elyon’s tyranny.
QQQ
But after many years of human freedom, Elyon escaped
the pit in which TEELEH had chained him and with an iron
fist slaughtered all in the utopia that had been created.
Having usurped the throne, he conspired to recreate the
world. Now the unseen is seen to those who would see.
QQQ
Since that day in the Black Forest, I have been on
a quest to discover Thomas so that I might know why my
master has chosen him to defeat of Elyon.
Soon…
QQQ
227
Sayings of MARSUUV
Queen of TEELEH
This is the truth: Thomas crosses the worlds without the
Books. His body here, or there, is but a shell. He has
undergone a separation, yet still his mind acts as one.
QQQ
This is the truth: Elyon is confused. Michal keeps an
ever watchful eye out over Thomas. The boy is terrified of
him. Terrified that he can span the worlds. Terrified that he
can affect History. I have succeeded in crushing the plans
of Elyon. TEELEH shall rule the hearts of man.
QQQ
This is the truth: Destroy Thomas and bare the neck of
Elyon. He is the Key upon which this all hangs, the bait
of TEELEH to lure Elyon into a vulnerable position, where
we can once again assure his defeat. Marvelous.
QQQ
This is the truth: Freedom of the will, they call it,
but choose against Elyon and be damned. Yet the damned
find their freedom even under oppression. We have all
chosen to defy Elyon and in this is our reward: Freedom
from slavery to his ways alone. For to remain a slave
to a Master is no Freedom but death. So then, those who
remain slaves to Elyon for fear of punishment are not
Free. They are slaves only. In this only Shataiki are truly
Free. And yet those who drink the blOOd call themselves
Free. They are but deceived.
228
QQQ
This is the truth: In the valley of Miggdon, TEELEH
will reign.
QQQ
This is the truth: No history may be repeated. Every
choice will make a new path. Thomas created a new path
and that way delivered Tanis. If Thomas returns to make a
new choice, he will make a new path. Tanis would not be
the instrument of defeat. But all paths lead to TEELEH.
Freedom is the only path man is destined to follow. In
Elyon there is no true freedom.
QQQ
This is the truth: The son of the beloved will fall,
but in falling he rises to his destiny. Selah. The great god
TEELEH will reign forever.
QQQ
This is the truth: The worlds will convolute and
intermesh, twisting, winding, wobble. What is will once
and never more will be and yet that which was not will
be once more. In that day, he with power will rule,
controlling the wills of man and time.
QQQ
This is the truth: A stronghold lies in the forests of
Blue. Amongst the Leedhan, one deceived by Elyon lies
in wait until the battle for Gog and Magog is ripe, then
shall he be crushed. Then we will make our refuge with
them.
QQQ
229
This is the truth: Religion is blessed, borne of the sons
of Adam. Through religion man finds solace and peace in
himself, not the god he seeks for. In religion man will find
the heart of Adam, and the heart of Adam is destined for
freedom. Freedom is the path to TEELEH.
QQQ
This is the truth: With black eyes Billy will stand as
the antichryst and destroy the nations.
QQQ
This is the truth: Love is folly among men, for the son
of Adam knows only fear of his own destruction. He will
always follow a religion which promises love yet remain
powerless to love as the boy loves. As TEELEH loves. As
MARSUUV loves.
230
231
The Follies of Men and Religion
Writings of MARSUUV, Queen of Shataiki
It is written that when Man ate of the Tree of
Knowledge of Evil and Good, he fell from his vaunted
position. I say unto you that Man ascended, a creature more
beautiful and less ignorant.
QQQ
Some say that the prophet Jezuz was the son of Elyon
and that his death brought victory, but I say unto you that
Elyon suffered his greatest blow when we staked Chrestus.
QQQ
It is written that the Holie Spryt of Jezuz would
come upon the Chrestians in power. But I say unto you that
they remained powerless slaves to the religion Chrestus died
in vain to destroy. Religion is blessed.
QQQ
It has been said that TEELEH dwells in the midst of
Fire and Brimstone, but I say unto you that he walks the
earth as a lion, strong, proud, and free.
QQQ
It has been said that the dwelling of Elyon is a place
of joy, but I say unto you that there can be no joy under
the thumb of the tyrant.
QQQ
It is written that in the Great Wars, Shataiki were
defeated and felled to the Black Forest, but I say unto
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you that we conquered. Once under a tyrant, now free.
QQQ
Some say that the script of Elyon records naught but
truth, but I say unto you that it contains the writings of a
religion and only as such is blessed.
QQQ
It is written that Jezuz came as King of Peace, yet
his Chrestians have gloried in blOOdshed more than Horde
Throaters.
QQQ
Some men give Shataiki the name of Sin and call Elyon
Sinless. But I say unto you that the Creator of Shataiki
with foreknowledge of the Rebellion is guilt of Sin.
QQQ
It has been said there are Creatures of the Night, who
feast upon the BlOOd of men. But I say unto you that
Vampirum only take that which is freely offered.
QQQ
Elyon created all with the knowledge of rebellion. Why
then are we damned for what he created us? Thus, I say
unto you that the boy is the Cause of the Evil he abhors
and has no authority over us.
QQQ
Shataiki know and understand that the power of Elyon
in no way eclipses the power of TEELEH. Did not Chrestus
claim to be sending the Holie Spryt of Power? Yet the
followers of Elyon are no differently than those who
grasp all other Religion. Thus the boy is no more powerful
233
than we. Never has there been a follower of TEELEH who
unwittingly bowed to the dominion of Elyon, but legions who
call themselves the Sons of God and name Elyon their
Lord, come under the servitude of the great god TEELEH.
Their words proclaim that which their actions profess. They
know no love. Only the Chrestus and the Roush and the
Shataiki know love.
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The Power of the BlOOd
BlOOd: This journal is written using the blOOd of
men which have been sacrificed to me. Their bones form my
writing instrument, and their skin the parchment upon which
I write. Let it not be said by the Priests of TEELEH that
their gods do not revel in their sacrifices. But it is blOOd
we value most of all.
QQQ
The life of a thing is in its blOOd and life advances
through blOOd. It was when the blOOd of Justin was
spilt out in sacrifice to TEELEH that the third phase of
victory began. Even to the ancients, blOOd was a thing
sacred, and Elyon told his people not to eat of the blOOd
for fear they would feel its power. Instead, he forced
them to become drunk on his blOOd, and bound them to
weakness in his name.
QQQ
In his name, the blOOdlust of Elyon was carried out.
A man named Mosheth filled rivers with blOOd in his
campaign for Elyon. The name of Jezuz has caused more
blOOdshed than any other name. When the armies circled at
Gog and Magog, it was Jezuz himself who slaughtered the
servants of TEELEH until their blOOd reached the bridle of
his horse.
QQQ
We Shataiki do not force our prey. Alucard’s
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descendants seduce, but do not rape. But Elyon takes the
blOOd of those who will not bow or bend. Having been
forced to lay with the tyrant ourselves, Shataiki understand
the terror of being denied freedom of will, and will not
force ourselves upon the unwilling. But once we choose,
we woo, we pursue, we rescue, and we lavish, none remain
standing against the love of TEELEH. How great and
terrible is the love of TEELEH!. The love of TEELEH for
men is greater and stronger than that of Elyon.
QQQ
But I speak on blOOd and its power. Elyon craves
the blOOd of men because in their blOOd lies their power.
Thus also does TEELEH crave the blOOd of men. It is the
heart that distributes blOOd to the body, and the heart
that is called the seat of love. Control a man’s blOOd
and control his heart; control his heart and control whom
he loves.
Only through blOOd can TEELEH accomplish his goal.
Only through the sacrifice of blOOd can the power of
TEELEH be unleashed. Only by blOOd can the offspring
of Shataiki live. Life and power come through the BlOOd.
Selah.
QQQ
VAMPIRUM
In a most curious turn of events, the fall of the
Queen Alucard has not undone him from the favor of
TEELEH. When his failure to retrieve the Books resulted
236
in his transportation to the other world, I surmised
that TEELEH would have gladly staked his Queen for
such incompetence. But the wisdom of TEELEH can turn
incompetence into brilliance.
QQQ
Alucard’s insatiable urge to procreate led to his
intermingling of blOOd with a human. And thus the
Vampirum—humans with Shataiki-blOOd—were born. His
Nephilim would have great affect on the ancient society.
QQQ
Lore among the Gehuzim places many prominent figures
as descendants of descendants of descendants of Alucard.
And that through the transmission of his blOOd, the ancient
time was prepared for the coming of TEELEH.
QQQ
These lesser creatures—these half-breeds—served their
purpose, though still weak. The allegiance of the heart
is not portrayed physically among the ancients. Thus the
Vampirum came as wolves in sheep’s clothing, able to
romance the masses because they are found to be pleasing
to the eye.
QQQ
The Great Romance of TEELEH is great. It is the
complete seduction of mind and soul. The Vampirum were the
conduits of this romance of TEELEH, wooing the world with
silver tongues, convincing them of the deceit of Elyon. They
became TEELEH’s messengers—his Church—and proved their
god’s power by utterly destroying those who claimed to be
of Elyon. They would pave the way for our greatest victory,
237
the complete defeat of Elyon that forced him to start anew
once more. It is a device being redone in this age.
The Seven Great Victories of TEELEH
In the beginning, all were under the subjugation of
Elyon, the tyrant. The boy had written it in the Books,
though not even the Books could subvert our freedom of
will. Thus it was that one anointed a Wise One first dared
to exercise such freedom outside the bounds of Elyon.
Judgment was swift and harsh. Elyon would tolerate no
action outside his iron will. In protest, war began against
Elyon. Brother divided himself against brother, and the legion
of Roush split into two: one of Elyon, one of the Wise
One TEELEH. The wrath of Elyon was harsh.
QQQ
Yet we escaped Elyon’s grasp not in defeat, but in
victory. TEELEH prophesied his return before the throne of
Elyon: “I will ascend back into the heavens of Elyon. I
will exalt my throne above the Roushuim. I will sit upon
the mount of congregations and ascend in glory far above
all creatures. I will become Most High.” This was our
first great victory.
Having been scorned, Elyon created for himself a
lesser creature whose mind would be more easily bent, and
called them Adam. They lived under Elyon’s rule , as we
had, caged upon the half of the world. Man’s penalty for
using his freedom of choice was the same as ours: Disobey
and die. This is Elyon’s only and final demand.
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QQQ
But the humans discovered that Elyon was keeping them
ignorant, naïve, and mindless. In the form of a serpent,
the great god TEELEH opened the eyes of man and promised
his support in their rebellion against the Tyrant. And thus
the humans did shake their fist at Elyon and step into the
halls of power. Die? They surely did not die! This was our
second great victory.
QQQ
Then Elyon again said in his heart “I will destroy the
Man whom I have created.” Man had all but forgotten the
Tyrant, having been freed from his fist, but the wrath of
Elyon reminded us that, though beaten, the boy was still a
worthy foe. But again he was proven powerless as, through
TEELEH, some survived the Deluge of his wrath. This was
our third great victory.
QQQ
Seeing that he could defeat neither the Man nor we
Shataiki, the boy changed his conniving ways, and for many
years allowed the freedom of the many while binding his
will only upon one people called Yszrael. But even those
of Yszrael realized Elyon’s tyranny and rebelled throughout
their subjugation. Despite TEELEH’s seduction, we could not
overthrow his reign in Yszrael. Until that fatal error of
Elyon. He bound his power into one human and was named
Chrestus. The power of Elyon rested on Chrestus, and he
claimed that such an Holie Spyrt would be given to all
who ate his flesh and drank his blOOd, the very tactics of
seduction perfected by Shataiki. But Yszrael heard TEELEH
239
and recognized Chrestus as a tyrant, and thus staked him
to a tree. This was our fourth great victory.
QQQ
Then the followers of Chrestus claimed that his death
brought upon them the Holie Spryt, for they had gone to his
tomb, ate his flesh, and drank his blOOd. Our worst fears
were confirmed, it seemed, for the Spyrt of Power did
indeed seem to be upon a few. Many great warriors were
lost as we made war against the scourge of the Spryt.
Yet we prevailed against the Chrestians, whom we named.
Through the power of religion, we conquered. Most became
hollow edifices dedicated to the power of a false Religion.
This was our fifth great victory.
When the Vampirum of Alucard spread throughout
the Earth, they became a servants of TEELEH, filled with
his own Spryt and BlOOd. Unlike Chrestus, the sons of
TEELEH accomplished their Father’s purpose, bringing about
the final battle of the age. In that day, in the land of
Yzsrael, the heavens opened and the son came clothed in
blOOd to make war against TEELEH. It was the battle of
the Ages, for the Age, and when the blOOd of all men
had been spilled, TEELEH had conquered. Elyon was left
with only a remnant stripped of their Free will to worship
at his throne forever. If Elyon wished to rule over a Free
being, he would have to create the world once again, in a
new age. This was our sixth great victory.
QQQ
Remade, the world spins again through History, and ever
closer is the great god TEELEH to fulfilling the prophecy
240
he made at the dawn of Time. This will be his seventh and
final victory.
QQQ
An Epistle of MARSUUV to his Lover
To Ba’al,
My name is MARSUUV and you may call me Evil. I
am him dressed in black with a crown of black upon my
head who stalks Paradise. My scepter is my stake, and
though I am beautiful, my true nature is altogether more
terrible. Shataiki wear their symbol of rebellion against
Elyon on the outside with pride. It is we who have fought
against the mighty and have felled him, we who stood
against the tyrant and conquered him, we who will one day
soon dethrone the boy.
QQQ
What is Evil? I have thought long about this. What
else was there to do in that time in the Forest, when
we awaited the marching orders of the great god TEELEH?
Among we who would become the twelve Queens of TEELEH,
I am the one most given to philosophy, and to Books, which
is why TEELEH chose me as his lover. Now you too may be
mine.
QQQ
I have come to this conclusion: Elyon has deceived
many to consider Evil as a force to flee. Rather, Evil
is noble, for it represents the ultimate choice of freedom.
241
The freedom Elyon gave us all.
QQQ
Evil is that which is not of Elyon. Since the boy
declares himself Good, everything he does must be good—
even damning his creation for utilizing the spirit of free
choice he gave us. Thus what can we, his once mindless
followers, be but the very epitome of Evil? For if we are
anything, we are that which stands against Elyon.
QQQ
Thus I glory in my Evil, as must you. I prophesy of
that day when the Shataiki shall descend on the tyrant and
strip his flesh as food. Then my lord TEELEH shall reign
forever and ever, amen.
QQQ
The boy calls us to know all. He then knew we would
defy him. Perhaps this is my act of love for Elyon by
living out the rebellion predestined by he himself. You see
then that Evil is noble.
QQQ
Pay no mind to the humans who decry Evil—Horde,
albino, and halfbreed the same. The albinos would know
Elyon, and construct beliefs around a Great Romance, but
their romance is filled with fear and tyranny. The Horde
and halfbreed each seeks their own way, naming Evil in
their own eyes. When Tanis fell and Qurong arose, the
world found its measure of Freedom from the tyranny that
bound them to the ways of Elyon. They saw what we saw:
That Good and Evil are but words. He who has the power
is called Good, while those who fight against oppression
242
are Evil. Power, then, is the key. And the power is in the
BlOOd.
QQQ
This is the lesson, my son. When you came to me, you
were a shell, crying only for your beloved. You were
powerless. But I took you in. I named you with a new
name. Ba’al. In our ancient tongue, it means “master,”
which is what you will be to the Horde, and then to the
world. You, through BlOOd, you will be powerful.
QQQ
Among men, power comes through religion, ritual, and
superstition. Use them to lead us to our greatest victory.
Bring your armies to Miggdon and I will call you my Lover
again.
QQQ
243
An Epistle of MARSUUV to his Lover
To Ba’al,
I now write what you must know, as I have spoken
a hundred times. Religion is the humans’ greatest power.
Religion binds superstitious to Law. Arbitrary Law will
not be followed unless it carries with it terrible fear
of punishment. This is the doing of the tyrant to keep his
subjects in his will. It is the threat of disease and
suffering and eternal death that makes a subject obey.
QQQ
You see the power of Religion? As the Histories
record: wars and rumors of wars began because of
Religion. In Adam’s World, scarcely would a man die to
save his fellow human, but he gladly sacrificed himself for
his Religion.
QQQ
In the same way now, Religion has come after Tanis
drank of TEELEH’s water and turned the world toward
greatness. The Horde found Religion as a way to bind
themselves together apart from Elyon.
QQQ
Seeing our great success, Elyon disposed of his old
covenant and replaced it with a new covenant, devoid of
Religion. But man cannot live without Religion and now
returns to it again.
QQQ
Thus Religion has become the strongest force on among
244
men. Like a drug, they are drawn to its comfort. Use it.
Embrace it. Religion will capture their minds and separate
their hearts from Elyon’s wooing and seduction.
QQQ
In Adam’s World, Chrestus came from Elyon with a
call against Religion, but Elyon’s followers murdered him
for it. You see, my son, they were driven by their Religion.
Even then, those who tried to follow the way of Chrestus
soon fashion Religion and became powerless.
QQQ
As long they have Religion, they are truly in our
grasp. Woo them with Religion and the great god TEELEH
will reign forever.
QQQ
245
A Special Note from Ted Dekker
In creating Baal’s Blood Book I thought it would be
appropriate to reach out to a few members of the Circle—
after all, this world now belongs to all of us, not only me.
This work was a collaboration between myself and several
from the Circle to whom I owe a great debt of gratitude.
The accounts of Grushon and Mustul were written by
Kevin Kaiser who is a great storyteller in his own right. His
work in capturing the voices of these two new characters
in our world was truly impressive. One day you’ll have to
publish your own book, my friend.
Josh Olds worked closely with me in drafting Baal’s
Secret History, Marsuuv’s Blood Book, and the entries
from Thomas of Hunter. Few know the Books of History as
Josh does. Your journey will take you far, my friend.
Gregg Hart, thank you for hashing through the stories
with me, your help and insight are now the property of us
all. For those who don’t know, Gregg has stayed by my side
for many years now, answering the questions and concerns
of thousands who have written. I’m always amazed at how
well he knows my mind.
246
Copyright ©2011 by Ted Dekker
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents
are the product of the author’s twisted imagination or are used fictitiously.
Any resemblance to actual events, locales, persons living, dead or undead,
is merely coincidental.
All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright
Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced,
distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means or stored in a
database, root cellar, or retrieval system without the prior written permission
of the publisher.
Ted Dekker
c/o Creative Trust
5141 Virginia Way, Suite 320
Brentwood, TN 37027
Printed in the United States of America
First Edition: June 2011
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