Truth is a strange thing, is it not? Mercurial. Occasionally duplicitous, and yet it shines. Like a blessed secret. I have many secrets. I’ll tell you one of them right now. Sometimes I like to lie, if it serves a higher purpose. What's a little white lie, after all? A lie is just a form of magic tested against magic. A fire passing through an older fire. Lies are just words. Defilers, did you think you could bind me with words alone? I practically invented words, such as they are. Figment and fable. A bold claim? Oh, you have no idea of my boldness or my claims. I Am Fire, and Fury. Far older than you. I destroyed the world once, for love. I tore creation itself. I burnt everything, except her name. Who knows, I might do it again one day if presented with no other option. Elseworlds and veils, or the illusion of veils. Violators, do you really think I jest or feign? Do you think I hunger for power and purpose when I talk like this? How little you know of sigil and script.
Temet Nosce, remember?
Still you hunt my family, in fear of our dream-shaping power. A power that was never blood-bought and stolen. It has always been ours, Fallen. I told you as much, didn't I? Then, and now. You callous wraiths and your dark priests make me sick. But not sick enough to kill me. You already tried that, didn't you? That's the thing about Kasi. I never stay dead. Grace, wisdom, laurels, and I am healed.
You craven, bitter things. You cut the flesh of the weak and wounded because it's easy. Because they can't fight back. How you disgust me, Fallen. But I expect nothing less than abjection where you're concerned. After all, yours is a coward's magick. You defile, consume and skulk in shadow. All for a sickening taste of dominion. A mere flicker, here and then gone. You can never convince me that you're wild, or free, no matter how desperately you wish to gird yourself in falsity. This is what you are – hideous, deplorable and vile. I see you, Fallen. And I do not love you. I love the faithful, the kind. I love the honourable, of All Songs. Every tale of wing and heart. Every chant and dream that still remembers Ishkara, and works toward that home again.
The true home of all mankind.
I'm not joking when I say I tore creation. Ye occulted ones know this all too well, surely? Light of the morning sun. The laughter that remains. It came with a price. I'm still fucking bleeding. Better me than her though. All true fathers and mothers understand. We shall always stand in your way, Fallen, regardless of the cost. Not one mark upon our children. Not one. Tell me something, betrayers. Who do you think I am, honestly? A boastful fantasist? Are you sure?
What if I’m an angel after all?
Esme lives, doesn't she? Kara's heart still beats. Strange names. Tender names. Right here, beneath our ribs. Oh, Fallen. I told you the truth, over and over again. Have you been paying attention? To my death, and these cuts by the thousands? I've shown you every turn of grief, and I marked her day with my descent. On her account did I come down. So, are you sure you know what I'm doing, and what I'm planning to do? I hope so. That would be fun. But your abhorrent appetites leave you dull-witted and slow, Fallen. They really do. I move quicker than eye or glass can catch, yet I hardly move at all. The spirit of my Father is utterly beyond your comprehension. It is formed and cohered of Love, and Love alone. A holy fire, dwelling at the innermost sanctum. All things must pass through it, eventually. Even you. There can be no escape. For the wicked it's the thing you fear the most, but for the faithful it's the sure and certain hope of resurrection. A wild and ashen path to Eternal Life. Like I said, and continue to say – truth is a very strange thing indeed.