Fallen, what if at last I shared with
you a rather private truth? Would you deem it a beautiful or frightening
revelation? I've spoken of secret things
before, but not like this. Would you
even hear me, or understand what you're hearing? I am more than my Father's most terrible
angel. I think you grasp this by now. I am mortal, like those you despise. But
I'm also the twilit hush of dawning dusk. The indrawn breath. The fleeting glimpse. I too was a father, once. And a mother. The eternal tides of
Amnion. Naught but the trick of my
patron's patrons in the end. The cradle
and the life. The lake and the
lake-bed. Surely I’m not Endymion, locked in dreaming raptures of Selene's
ghost-flower? But perhaps I’m near
enough those rhythms of the poet's moon. Palest silver of the Night Star. The hidden ecology of all Fay. More than Man or machine. Beyond war and tales of war. I'll say it plainly; this beautiful,
frightening revelation. You never should
have raised your fucking hand to the one who carried me. The one who loved me even whilst heaven itself
was burning. You understand little of
the lines you've crossed and the price I will force you to pay. By the arch of my mother's bow, I swear. I've had enough of watching you replace priests with wraith-familiars, transforming hideous warlords into kings and
queens. Erecting these blood-dimmed
chronologies. Only cowards thrill at
tormenting the weak and wounded, using cruelty to conquer. But hatred is no match for love, or empathy. I'm going to teach you these things, Fallen, annihilating
your intimate sickness in the process. Even
whilst it kills me. If you're wise you
will run to my brother for forgiveness, while you still can. But you will find no mercy here. Not when Ka'shayel knows you in these darkest
of ways. Hear me. The evening and
the morning both still belong to me. Honour
your mothers as you would your fathers. It's too late now for half-measures. The falling or rising Akasha. Knowledge of the nocturnal pledge. What is about to happen has been a long time
coming. A thousand years in the making,
in fact. I don’t think you really understand
the nature of hunting, or vengeance. But
you will. By the light of Diana's star, you will.
Neither shall they say, Lo here! or, lo there! for, behold, the kingdom of God is within you.
Sunday, 14 March 2021
Nocturne
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