Saturday Musings

So I'm sitting here listening to "Shine on You Crazy Diamond" and missing Syd. I always miss Syd when Pink Floyd comes on my iPod. It's worse with "On the Turning away" because I connected with Syd when listening to that song and reading about his days with Pink Floyd.

I'm not certain if the Cymbalta is working or not. I'm still hurting, but I will do that I'm afraid. I'm more numb than anything. It's making writing difficult because I can't seem to get into character, to evoke those spirits and let them speak through me. It's even difficult to write here, but I'm forcing myself to blog because it keeps the writer's avenues open to perhaps more productive times. Sleep doesn't seem to be a problem now, what with the Zyprexa and Lyrica. I die every night and I have the most interesting dreams. Problem is, I can't remember them when I wake up. I'm just left with the feeling that I've been pulled from some parallel universe and I need to get back to finish whatever I was doing.

Tomorrow is the Mother Unit's birthday. The only thing I could do was send her a Mothers Day card. I'm gonna call her tomorrow for both events. Here's hoping she answers the telephone. Aunt Tudi has been trying to get in touch with her for about a week now, to no avail.

"Shine on You Crazy Diamond" is drifting off into the auditory haze, and Mike Scott has come to visit me with "Glastonbury Song. One of my favourites. Love that man.

More on the Apostate

After this work of science and magick, folk from around the empire of Khemeth flocked to Telhumethiel’s laboratory so that he could help them see better. He made only a few pairs of spectacles before moving on to other studies. But the people kept coming in droves, begging Telhumethiel to help them in their various afflictions.

Telhumethiel heard them and decided to focus on the medical sciences of alchemy. He studied the blood primarily, at first only taking a few drops from willing test subjects. 

But eventually that was not enough for Telhumethiel. He began capturing some of the wild beasts that lived in the vicinity of Khemeth, caging them and running various, taking tests great amounts of their blood. When they died, Telhumethiel buried them in a small chamber within his laboratory, for he knew the Tarmian teachers would not condone his work. They taught never to harm or kill, but Telhumethiel had done both in the name of his alchemical explorations.

After some time and many animal deaths, Telhumethiel produced some medicines to help the humans who constantly clamoured for his genius to heal them. He swelled with pride when they celebrated his name in the streets of Khemeth. And he felt he could do much more if he graduated his test subjects.

It was then that Telhumethiel began to take humans into his laboratory. He picked them out from the throng waiting to be healed and he took pints of their blood, studying the various aberrations therein. His reasoning was that he could do so much more good if his subjects were of the same species as the crowds waiting at his door to be healed.

But Telhumethiel was not torturing humans and creating new medicines and healing methods out of a desire to heal; he was breaking the Tarmian laws in order to better glorify himself. And he began to enjoy administering punishments to his test subjects who cried too loudly or begged to often. Eventually, his subject would finally escape the alchemist’s lab by dying and Telhumethiel the broken person in his secret chamber of death, and bring in new test subjects.

Telhumethiel’s primary teacher, Fer’Jinn, visited his student unexpectedly and saw the bound humans, battered and bloody, begging for release. He released the humans and, as they ran from the lab, Fer’Jinn admonished Telhumethiel for his crimes, telling him that his practices were wholly intolerable and that he would be banished from the school. 

“Not if they don’t know about it,” said Telhumethiel, and he used his advanced knowledge of alchemy to capture and bind Fer’Jinn. It was at this time that the promising young student performed deliberate acts of horror upon Fer’Jinn’s body. He took some of the Tarma’s blood, studying this sacred fluid with great fervour, learning the secrets of this sacred race.

After three days of agony, Fer’Jinn finally escaped the laboratory in Telhumethiel’s absence, running as fast as he could to the college palace. He told of Telhumethiel’s crimes and the high council of Khemeth bade Telhumethiel to come before them. 

Standing before the high council, Telhumethiel was cast out of the College of Khemeth and denied entry to any other Tarmian school. 

“This matters not to me, Telhumethiel said to them. “I have seen the sacred blood and made note of its song. I’ve seen and mapped every tiny nuance of human blood. I know everything there is to know about any of you and I can use that to heal or to punish. If you won’t allow me to continue my studies here, then punishment is the only answer. How dare you try to wield power over me? Some day you will know the power I possess. I can make disease as easily as I can heal it. What will your little lap dogs think when the Tarmi are defenseless against me? If it’s the last thing I do, I shall sunder the Tarmi and humanity. They will bow to me, the humans and utter curses at you. What will you do then?”

“You speak such things with pride and hatred in your heart,” Fer’Jinn said. “You are banished from this realm. Banished and called Apostate.”

So it was that the Apostate was utterly banned from the realms of the Tarmi.