The Truth

It was all around me in the beginning, the truth of the world, the answers to everything. In those books, copies of words from Elders before, and before, that were in Lilian's library. Copies that I devoured in night, and then took their meaning to be some metaphoric process of living.

And yet, there's no metaphor.

It didn't take the opening of the Doorway to impart the truth to me. As is perhaps always the way it should be, it took blood, and the words of an Elder, words which spring my mind back to those days in the library with all those books. And in a way, I already knew the truth, I was simply blind to it. Now, it shocks me into sanity. Musical notes reach deep into my mind and tear me away from that which would take me down into nihilism.

I have questions. I've many questions, and the answers will come. But now, I've the Truth, and I've Purpose again, and I am living.

All things are falling into place around me, and there is a veil of darkness going down upon the world. I pity those who don't know the Truth, those who haven't been exposed beyond those paltry lies and services of their Old Gods. They will be exposed to so much bloodshed... needless bloodshed. The demons will see to it. They will tear their skin from their flesh, and blood will pour from the very gutters of the streets. The slums will be painted, silk will be crimson, and Ylessa's fountain will bubble with the life of so many dead. Useless blood.

Here I am, writing this page, underneath the light of the Red Mother's moon, and I feel sorrow for them... and anger at those who would blare this 'enlightenment' this 'falseness' onto them, keep them shrouded in the dogma of the Failing Ones.

"If you have been saved, and seen the White Queen, the Father must have some plan for you," the words echo in my mind, words that my Twisted one said to me. Words which in some way... I resent. I've known him for sixty-two years, and it's only now do I understand all that I've heard, and my understanding is growing... and yet there are so many more who are more deserving. Many more who are so much more perfect, and refined.

I'm becoming rather embroiled in it all. I must not make the mistake of losing perspective. No, never that. Then I would have truly failed Lilian. And now, to bury this parchment into the earth, where it will forever lay. My mortal thoughts, buried deep.