(Recognition — The Return — Frailty — Worthlessness — Desperation — Mercy — Trespass — Delight)
~~~ are used for changing the perception of vision (POV)
••• denotes flashback
*** denotes time skip
'...' denotes internal thought
() denotes layered perception
===
Something standeth behind me.
Slowly—most slowly—I turn mine head.
"My Lord?"
Those eyes—O dreadful sight!—those eyes of utter emptiness and terrible concentration gleam forth from the devouring dark. Behind them the abyss unfoldeth itself in writhing tendrils, shadowed limbs spread wide like the roots of some monstrous tree that hath grown beneath the world.
The image striketh my spirit as lightning striketh a lonely tower.
In that instant I know this vision shall never depart from me. Though ages pass, though flesh decay and thought grow dim, yet shall that moment remain engraved within the secret marrow of my mind.
Then my body trembleth.
It trembleth before my mind hath yet taken thought. Only afterward doth understanding arise, slow and dreadful as winter's dawn.
Their gaze… is fixed upon me.
Upon me alone.
I draw a deep breath, quiet and careful, striving to settle the turmoil within my belly. My innards feel as though some unseen hand doth constantly rearrange them, twisting and folding them anew, yet I command my body to endure.
"Our Lord," say I at length. With great care I rise to my feet.
Step by step I descend from my cathedral seat, passing downward toward the assembly where my brothers and sisters stand gathered—and beyond them, toward that place where our Lord manifesteth.
Each movement must be measured.
Each step must be deliberate.
Each motion must be graceful.
If I were to stumble—if I were to disgrace myself before Him—surely I should wish never again to set foot upon the lands.
Thus I go slowly.
Past the pillars stained with shadow. Past the blackened walls where ancient divinities once whispered their fading dominions. My brethren part before me as water before a ship's prow, their heads bowed low.
Some bow from reverence. Others from fear.
And rightly so.
For hath not the Slayer of Gods proven His worth by ruin and dominion alike?
"O Claimer of the unbeating heart," I begin with reverence deep within my breast, "Thou hast heard our humble summons. Thou hast spared Thy servants from the cruelty of abandonment. Truly Thou art—"
Yet ere I may take the next step forward and kneel before Him in due humility—
My body stoppeth.
Not by mine own will. Not by hesitation of tongue nor clenching of teeth.
But by a most dreadful constriction within my breast and throat, such as I have never before endured.
It is as though some iron band hath been drawn about my chest and drawn tight.
Still He moveth not. Still His gaze remaineth unchanged.
"O Lord," I say with difficulty, "forgive me. I may have—" Then it cometh.
The pain.
It riseth from my belly like wildfire and climbeth upward through my body, scorching throat and eyes alike.
I cannot endure it.
I bend double, seized by the violence of it, and from my mouth there issueth torrents of black substance—vast and terrible.
The Void.
The ancient decay of the world itself.
It pour forth in such abundance that the stone beneath me groweth slick and glistening with it.
"Cough—cough—cough!"
My breath raggeth.
I behold my reflection in that dreadful pool—a warped and darkened figure staring upward from the abyssal sheen.
The Void itself seemeth to mock me, as though reminding me what I have become.
I lift my gaze once more.
Only a few steps remain. So near.
'I am close…'
(yet infinitely distant.)
'I can do this,' I whisper unto myself.
(Yet my limbs deny me.)
The pain suffocateth me. It wrapt itself about my ribs and throat like serpents.
None of the others move to aid me. Nor would I have them.
To suffer alone is proof of devotion.
To crawl through agony for the sake of one's God is the truest testament of faith.
Slowly—inch by inch—I force my body onward.
A hand forward. Then another.
'I can do this…'
'I am doing this…'
Yet suddenly my legs fail utterly.
All strength departeth from them.
They refuse me.
They betray me.
I am… so very near. So near.
I look upward toward my Lord. And then I perceive a truth far worse than pain.
His gaze…
is not upon me. It never was.
It never was!
The realization striketh me like a falling stone. My knees collapse beneath me and strike the floor with a dull and echoing sound.
Around me my brethren fall silent.
I feel their confusion ripple through the chamber like wind across dark water.
Once—long ago—we could hear one another's thoughts as clearly as spoken word.
We shared joy and sorrow alike.
But those days are gone.
Our teachings have changed. Our communion hath withered.
Now only I remain who can perceive the murmuring of their minds.
Their questions.
Their fears.
Their pity.
Yet none of that mattereth.
For I have failed.
Utterly.
I have disappointed Him.
Worse still…
I have displeased Him.
…
No.
Rise.
If thou canst not rise—crawl.
I shall not suffer my Lord to abandon us once more. I shall not bear again that terrible silence.
If sacrifice be demanded, we shall give it.
If suffering be demanded, we shall endure it.
I grit my teeth and lower myself upon my hands. Like a starving stag dragging itself across the land's edge.
My breath cometh harsh and broken.
My stomach churneth as though the organs within it have been toyed with by mischievous spirits.
Yet I crawl.
Around me I hear the faintest gasps.
Whispers.
They see me.
Their proud Speaker reduced to crawling upon the stone.
But still I move.
Though it cost me my pride.
My honour.
My dignity.
Even my very name.
Still I crawl. And at last…
At last…
I reach the shadow cast by my Lord's towering form. The darkness about Him is thick as stormclouds.
I extend my trembling hands and grasp gently at the edge of His silhouette, "My Lord… our beloved Lord… please…"
My voice scarcely formeth words, "Forgive us… forgive our trespasses… O God above Gods… we shall not fail Thee again."
"…Forgive us." This once. Only this once.
Then… Something changeth. The burning within my throat ceaseth. The convulsions still.
The pain… withdraweth.
I blink in astonishment. "O Lord of Pantheons," I whisper in awe, "hast Thou taken pity upon this wretched and feeble beetle?"
Surely He hath. Surely His mercy extendeth even unto me.
Yet ere I may look upon His dreadful glory… a tentacle of pure shadow extendeth forth before me.
It doth not strike.
It doth not punish.
It remaineth still.
As though… waiting.
And I understand. Without hesitation I clasp it. At once the limb lifteth me upward with effortless strength, raising me back upon my feet.
For a moment I stand stunned.
My Lord hath shown me mercy.
"My Lord," say I, trembling with gratitude, "no words suffice to express my devotion," But as I release my hold… my strength faileth again.
I stagger.
Were it not for my brethren—two supporting my sides and another steadying my back—I should surely have fallen.
Yet even so my heart overfloweth.
"O God of Gods," cry I, "how shall we ever repay Thy grace?"
The others answer eagerly.
"She speaketh truth, O Lord!"
"We are forever in Thy debt!"
Their voices mingle in reverence. Joy swell within me until tears blur my sight.
I have done it.
I have pleased Him.
"O my Lord," I continue in fervour, "Thou art the wisest of all beings. None shall challenge Thee, for none shall remain alive to equal Thy glory—"
"Quiet."
…
The word striketh me like thunder.
Did…
'Did They speak?'
For a moment my mind refuseth to comprehend it. My brethren continue chanting as though nothing hath occurred.
They heard nothing.
Nothing!
Yet I know what I heard. As I glance toward them, bewildered, a dreadful sensation descendeth upon the chamber.
A pressure. A suffocating malice saturating the air itself.
His gaze pierceth me.
Only me.
The command was meant for me. My body groweth rigid. Not with burning pain…
But with cold.
A cold so profound it is as though I had been plunged alive into the deepest waters of the world.
Never before have I felt such gravity of presence.
Not when we wandered abandoned through the marshlands. Not when I bore the burden of guiding my broken tribe. Not when I devoured my own kin that the rest might live.
But this…
This is something far greater. It is a darkness filled with absolute authority. It presseth against my throat until I feel my voice crushed within it.
Yet… strangely… I welcome it.
Nay…
I love it.
This moment I shall treasure forever within the most guarded vault of memory.
His attention is upon me.
His judgment is upon me.
His punishment…
Belongeth to me alone.
And it is…
wonderful.