Flying into Maxim’s Keep, with Chase in tow, Balik startled a strategizing session of military leaders. Swords drawn, wings outspread, Xcelene commanders engaged Balik, not recognizing him. To which Balik promptly overwhelmed and dispatched them, leaving them sword-less at the point of his saber.
“Ah, Balik!” Maxim laughed. “Always theatrics with you! You are too long in the bowels of the Void.”
The sarcastic joke prompted insulting laughter from the Xcelene commanders, to which Balik was unappreciative. Grabbing one of the commanders by the hair and lifting him up off the ground, Balik threatened to plunge his saber into his gut.
“Now, now, Balik, we do need every warrior in our war on those who deny our Primus his rightful place, don’t we?”
Balik released his captive by flinging him across the room, his body only to be abruptly halted by a hewn-out stone wall.
“So, what brings the Keeper of the Void to my dominion?”
Chase had hidden himself in a dark corner during the ruckus and now gingerly stepped forward and positioned himself next to Balik.
Maxim, a bit surprised, asked, “And why is this human here with you Balik?”
“This I will reveal to you, in private. For now, escort this human to the Temple, we will meet you there.”
“But, I thought-” were the last words out of Chase’ mouth as two stalwart Xcelenes ushered him out of the chamber.
Maxim strode in long measured steps across the room, his short cropped jade colored hair stood up like so many icicles on a frigid winter morning, expressing the antipathy of his Netherlife-filled soul.
Maxim was a broad-shouldered, barrel-chested Xcelene, with large hands and short muscular arms. He was a proven swordsman and an able winged opponent, relying on shrewd strategies and identifying the weaknesses of his opponents. He was no one to fool with, not even a Muspellum warrior such as Balik.
“Let us speak plainly Balik. Why did you bring that human into my domain?
“I do believe he may serve our cause, Maxim. His desire burns for the Netherlife and the ways of Intheism.”
“We are on the verge of invading Aeton, and you want to talk to me about a human disciple of Intheism?”
“Oh, but hear me out, you, wisest among the Destiners, the Netherlife will fill his little human soul, and then we plant him with Natriel. The Chief Elder is weak minded and will take the pitiful human into his house. And when he does, the human will find a vulnerable point in their defenses and reveal it to us; then we will crush Natriel and the rest of the elders!”
Maxim grinned, “Yes, Balik, then we will end the domination of the Destiner’s in the Silver Sea and begin a new era, the Age of the Xcelenes!”
The two took to flight out of the portico and continued onto the Temple where Dr. Phillips was kept awaiting their arrival.
The Temple construction reflected the hard and rigid ideals of the Xcelenes. Designed within three walls, each wall higher than the previous one, the Temple rose overlooking the city, a testament to the tyrannical oversight and forced conformity of Intheism. Its drab gray, stone walls were connected by sharp spires at each of the four corners, as if paying homage to the one massive spire that elevated from the center of the Temple itself into the misty fog of the night sky, an architectural expression of their desire to evolve into the supposed mysteries of Intheism.
Maxim ordered the guard to escort Dr. Phillips to the inner sanctuary of the Temple.
As Balik and Maxim awaited the Dr., Maxim enlightened him in the Xcelene way with the Netherlife.
“We Xcelenes are eons old Balik, and practice a wisdom that you Muspellum are just beginning to aspire to. We have watched your kind stubble here and advance there, ever yearning to increase your capacity for the Netherlife.”
Balik snipped, “I would measure my words Maxim. It is not wise to cast doubt on the ability of Primus.”
“I am merely speaking what is so, Balik. Primus strives to find his place in the other universe, and we have allied with him to do so. But remember, Primus has allied himself with me, so that I may find my place of dominion in the Silver Sea.”
“I am aware of the pact Maxim.”
“Good! Now, what you are about to observe is how we have harnessed the power of the Netherlife. We bypass the slow method of calling forth the Pool of Passion and instead inject the Netherlife directly into the Pool itself. After many attempts, we finally arrived upon the exact dosage and transportation into the inner recesses of the Pool.”
“I see. And who were the lab experiments as you perfected your methods?”
“Oh,” Maxim smirked, “A Destiner here, and Destiner there.”
The remark solicited haunting laughter from the other warriors present in the room.
Just then, the guards appeared with Chase.
“What have you done to him!” scolded Maxim.
Chase’s nose dripped with blood, and above his right eye, a black bruise glared as if testifying to maltreatment.
“You imbeciles! Sometimes I think the Netherlife has robbed some of you of all your senses.” Little did he suspect that the effects of the Netherlife were certainly eroding a once noble aspect of their Destiner heritage, character.
“Bring him to the altar!”
Chase, a little wobbly from the abuse and shaking with fear, pulled away from the guards, but to no avail. They strapped their hapless victim to the cold, stone altar, and took their leave.
Maxim and Balik took their places on each side of Phillips.
“Well little human, you are getting your wish!” Balik sneered.
“Please! Please let me go! I will do anything!” he cried.
“Now, now,” Maxim said, feigning consolation, “you will experience some discomfort, but when the transference is complete all will be well.”
Suddenly, from out of the dark ceiling above him, Chase caught sight of a pole slowly coming down towards him. It abruptly stopped, barely touching his chest, right above his beating heart.
Maxim explained to Balik, “We have discovered uses for certain animals in the transference of the Netherlife. Behold, the Nether Serpent!”
Twisting and slithering down the pole slid a coal black snake, its ruby red eyes scanning Chase and its forked tongue hissing, feeling the air for fear.
Chase screamed, “Let me go! Please, I beg you, let me go!”
Balik delighted in one of Philon’s creations suffering in the torment of fear, as a devilish sneer appeared from ear to ear.
They watched as the snake wormed its way off the pole onto Chase’s body, wrapping itself around his leg, and then an arm, and finally coming face to face with Chase.
Beads of sweat poured off Phillips’ brow, his heart beat furiously in his chest, as he gazed straight into the serpent’s ruby red, mesmerizing eyes.
“Watch, Balik! This is the best part!” Maxim babbled.
Suddenly, Chase became still, stuck in the stare of the Nether Serpent. His heartbeat slowed to calm rhythms, and the nervous perspiration ceased.
The snake, its eyes transfixed with Chase’s eyes, coiled back from his face, and for a moment it was if the two had merged, when the serpent, mouth a gape, fangs bristling, struck the side of his neck with such force that his body trembled with spasms. The snake injected its venom into his quivering body and then slowly pulled away, liquid bane dripping from its mouth. The pole withdrew to its shadowy place in the Temple ceiling, its reptilian priest in pull.
Silence settled in the Temple, as Balik, now sufficiently entertained and curiosity awakened, awaited the next stage of the transference. He watched in amazement as the fang wounds, which tore into the side of Chase’s neck slowly shrank in size. “What sorcery is this?” Balik leaned over, taking his hand and turning the head to one side, leaned in close to witness the wounds heal and disappear!
Chase’s eyes sprung open, the irises cloaked with the blackness of the Netherlife, belittled him, “Jealous Balik? The Netherlife fills my Pool. Even now its
beautiful wickedness surges through my veins!”
Balik jumped back, sensing the power of the Netherlife surging from this “little human.”
Maxim howled with laughter, as did the other Xcelenes present in the Hall.
“Does Primus know of this procedure, Maxim?”
“What does it matter Balik? I am sovereign in this universe, if he so chooses to investigate my methods, he himself will contact me.”
“Be careful Maxim! You border on treason!”
Walking over to the Muspellum Prince, his hand on his sword handle and guards surrounding Balik, Maxim spat, “And you need to watch your tongue, Muspellum, you are in my domain. And your precious Void will soon be under my supervision.”
Quickly retreating to a diplomatic position, Balik pressed, “You have pleasantly impressed me, Maxim, and I will report this discovery to Primus! Now I leave the human to you to indoctrinate with the tenets of Intheism and plant him among the Destiners. He will be our, how is it written in human history, our ‘Trojan Horse.’” With that, his wings hastily outspread and lifted him off the ground, and with one departing jab cried, “All Hail Primus,” leaving Maxim gripping his sword and seething to retort, but that opportunity was now but a wisp out in the night air.
Maxim thought to himself, Trojan Horse indeed! Aeton will burn!
Chapter 9
Back in Noab, the Fellowship of the Song spread throughout city. True to his word, Banedread provided various locations around the city for the Fellowship to congregate. Whether in small groups or in large auditoriums, the message of the Fellowship, brought a new sense of hope, and hope in the Land of Ever Knowing but Never Understanding, was a rare commodity indeed.
However, problems soon surfaced in the Fellowship. How could such diverse groups meeting in various different locations function as one entity? Scheduling issues, provision to meet needs, what exactly was being taught at the various sites, and concerns of who was and who was not in charge, were but a few of the problems that mandated more organization in the Movement.
A board was formed to address these and other matters, and leaders were appointed to the various locations. The groups were so named Mayas, meaning “water,” for the soul thirst of the people was being satisfied. And the leaders were given a title, Clerica.
Emma and Chad were so proud of Nate, for he had been chosen by the board to lead one of the larger Mayas in Noab, which they also attended.
But unbeknownst to the Fellowship, Banedread had planted his own Clerica. He used his influence to appoint, under disguise, Rulk, Gragan, Ranzar, Maulgram, Pornia, and Zonos the Abbandon, to also lead Mayas in Noab.
Rulk, ever the charismatic personality and masquerading as a charming, eloquent speaker, organized his Maya well and stressed the importance of growing in attendance until they became the largest Maya in Noab, for he argued this must be the will of the Image Maker.
And to grow, he conjured up a new word unknown to the Noabitians, holocaustum. Rulk attributed the growth of this Maya by stressing the importance of the spirituality of giving…money! In this way, he reasoned, each Maya could build their own building, a glorious tribute to the Image Maker.
Banedread took it one step further, for it was his plan to institutionalize the Fellowship. His rationale being that since so many groups populated the city, legal verification was needed so that those who would have other nefarious reasons for meeting would be prevented from leading a Maya. And so, after collecting a hefty tax, each Maya was legal in Noab, and ties to Banedread were strengthened.
Nate’s Maya had the distinct privilege of housing the sacred Frame. He and his leadership raised funds through the holocaustum system, to build a sanctuary to the Image Maker. They reasoned the Creator would be truly honored by such an endeavor.
So, in time, the Maya’s spread all over Noab, for much had changed since those days in The Song Shop. Their meetings were no longer centered on the spontaneous appearances of the Life Weaver and singing the Song, but the Clerica, who, having grown in influence and authority, made their discourse the fundamental purpose of their meetings. And the Frame, although present, was relegated the place of mere symbolism of the Movement’s beginnings.
Rulk, in conjunction with Banedread’s scheming, subtly introduced masking into the culture of the Clerics, and eventually its use spread into the Mayas. At first no one noticed, as only few of the Clerica donned the masks. The masks conveyed the outward appearance of piety, meant to separate them from those who had not yet attained their level of understanding. Eventually all, even Nate, succumbed to the deception. For, they reasoned in their hearts that the Image Maker would be pleased by their pursuit of consecration only to him.
The corruption of the Fellowship of the Song was complete with the desecration of the Meal. For in every Maya, a meal of simple bread and wine was shared to commemorate the love of the Image Maker manifested in Philon when he was nailed to the Frame. It was said Philon entered once and for all into His creation, died as them and for them, and rose as them and for them, reconciling them forever into the Community of One, the Image Maker.
Rizen was secretly introduced into the making of the bread used to venerate Philon. Rizen was the herbal panacea Primus used to seduce Valerian and Aurea, humanity’s first parents. And, once under its magical spell, those who partook of its seductive savor were susceptible to the influences of the Netherlife.
Much of the teaching gradually centered on the development of one’s self. At first, the truism that humanity was made in the Image Maker’s likeness painted a new and enlightening picture in the minds of those who heard the news. For some were trapped in the confines of life’s tragic consequences, others ensnared by the definition of others as to their intrinsic worth, and still others bulldozing their way through life, belittling and using others to increase the value of their own self-worth.
But soon the influences of Intheism distorted the divine mandate and the focus of bettering one’s self for self’s sake dominated the instruction by the Clerics.
The gradual evolution of such lofty ideas elevated humanity, or so it appeared. For in their minds, the possibility now existed to create one’s own reality. So they insisted on the use of correct verbiage, thereby ensuring the eventual formation of what one wished for, such as, to excel in wealth, or to heal one’s self. And so, Intheism integrated into the paradigm the Clerics intentionally built in the minds of their adherents.
One day in his office, Nate, now one of the most esteemed Clerics in Noab, received a request to meet with a few of his closest friends, though with his responsibilities, they had not see each other in quite some time.
Emma and Chad, accompanied by Ahuva and Melinda, arrived at the High Place, Nate’s meeting place near downtown Noab, prior to the evening Maya meeting. They checked in with the secretary and waited in a room down the hall from Nate’s office.
“This could be dicey Emma,” Chad nervously suggested.
“Deep down inside he is still that wholesome good ‘ol boy from the country to me, Chad.”
Just then, Nate walked in the room.
“Oh my gosh! It is so good to see you all!” Hugs and kisses were in order as smiles and well wishes filled the room. Sitting, Nate asked, “So, my friends, what brings you here today?”
Melinda, always unashamedly forward, petitioned him, “Nate, why on earth are you wearing a mask? You were there the day I was relieved of mine!”
“Ah Melinda, still shooting from the hip!” he laughed, attempting to deflect her remark.
The mood suddenly shifted in the room, as Nate had the impending feeling that this visit seemed to be more confrontational in nature.
Emma quickly interjected, “Well, Melinda, not exactly a diplomatic introduction to our subject, but one we may as well use. Nate, we are concerned that the same Presence that filled our lives and shared his Song with us is no longer evident. Where is the Life Weaver, Nate? Have you heard from him?”
“And we have not sung the
Song in the High Place in quite some time, which leads us to believe something insidious has infiltrated the Fellowship,” added Ahuva. “And, if anyone is privy to the secret, sabotaging ways of Intheism, I am!”
“Whoa, Whoa!” Nate interrupted. “Intheism? Sabotage? Surely this cannot be, my friends. Since the time of our inception, we have grown in rank and file and now command a respectful place in Noab. I for one have not heard much of Prince Lucius, except for his business dealings. And Banedread has not interfered with us. So, I’m not sure where these suspicions originate?”
“We also have noticed a change in you, Nate. We miss the Nate who-”
“Hey, let’s connect later, the meeting is set to begin and I’ve got to get my discourse organized. It’s a good one! I’ve titled it, ‘How to Reach for the Stars.’” And, he added, “some big wig Clerics will be our guests tonight!” Then, he rushed out of the room, disappearing down the long hallway.
Melinda, disappointed, observed, “That didn’t go over to well!”
“It seemed he was ignoring our pleas,” added Ahuva.
Their discussion was interrupted by an usher, “Hello, Cleric Nate asked me to escort you to be his guests on the front row. Please follow me.”
As they filed out, Chad couldn’t help but notice something strangely familiar with this “usher,” but he just couldn’t put his finger on it.
◆◆◆
The interior of the High Place, with its wheat-colored tile floor and cedar walls, hosted a warm and inviting invitation to all who entered. The seating arrangement was circular, gradually rising and spreading out like a fan. The center sat up to 30,000 people. Center stage was an uplifted platform with benches, wherein leadership sat, surrounding an open space, from which the Clerica would address his audience.
Emma and her company were given the privilege of sitting on the platform, amongst the leadership, who amid them that evening, were seated Rulk and his brothers, and Banedread, cloaked by Satrina’s sorcery so none would recognize them.
Return of Philon Page 6
