An entry from Cadmus' journal, as featured in
The Augury of Gideon.
CHAPTER 18
CADMUS’ JOURNAL: THE SCIENCE OF CONTROL
“Very little fruit is forbidden. Sometimes we wobble, sometimes we’re strong. But you know evil is an exact science, being carefully correctly wrong..” ~ Shriekback “Nemesis”
Kelat is napping. Her incessant badgering about my emotions, or lack thereof, was driving me to distraction. Only around her do I feel like I’m losing control.
Control is everything. Without it misery is sure to follow. This is a truth I learned at a very early age, when Nissius began his litany of nightly abuses upon my young and nearly ageless body. If you are beaten mercilessly for crying because of some special torment, you learn to hold your breath, hold in everything you possibly can to avoid further punishment. You’re taking on enough as it is, don’t add to the agony of it.
There were some nights I would cry and take the beating because the beating would take away the pain of the other perverse acts Nissius had performed upon his apprentice. I took it as a lesson and allowed my body to release during the flogging, understanding how the flagellants might get the idea that their deeds brought them closer to their god. Ritual beating can create altered states of consciousness. I am almost certain that I saw the face of god on certain nights. That face was a leering, angry figure, hellbent on the punishment of the living simply for having lived at all.
It has been centuries since I cried, but it has been almost as long since I was subject to the whims of Nissius Sanguinus. His abuses were all aimed toward the goal of perfect, emotionless control. He molded me well, very well indeed.
Kelat is so very different from Nissius. She seems a sad figure, but is also a vessel of such chaotic power, it’s hard to believe that, when you look at her, you’re looking at what is almost a Goddess made manifest. And, indeed, she has been mentioned in more than one holy book as a deity or a semi-divine being. The Hebrews in particular became obsessed with her early on. Some revere her
as wise Goddess of the wisdom of the night, others view her as the night demon who steals away children and the sexual control of men.
Again, it’s all about control. She is hated by many for her innate ability to make one lose control. Perhaps the Hebrews have twigged onto something when it comes to Kelat. Take away the owls and lions who repose beside her, and all you have is a woeful figure lost in the desert of dreams.
I hate Kelat. I do not speak of the philosophical apex that mirrors hatred. I am talking about the actual emotion. Yes, I do feel that. It means that I have relinquished some of my control because only a neutral being can achieve perfect control, which is what I once had. Anger and hatred come to me easily, especially when I am in the presence of my mother. No matter what I do or say, she accepts me for all that I am and she loves me unconditionally. I know this because I tap into her psyche and see it there, swirling in magnificence, a bright and shining beacon calling to me to let go and fall under her sway.
I will not let her do it to me. She has taken away enough of my control.
When the time comes for me to achieve my apotheosis, she shall she see her error. I will crucify her and drive spikes through her eyes so I will never have
to look upon her silver-blue gaze of affection again. She will perish on a cross of her own making and her utterances of agony shall be as music to my ears.
I will crucify them all. When the relics are reunited and the final prophecies are revealed, then shall they know that their demise is nigh. I will hunt Kelat and her lapdogs down like the vermin they are and I will drive iron spikes into the bodies and raise their crosses in the deepest deserts of the Earth. There shall I behold them when the sun arises and takes away their sanity with the pain of fire and purification. My strength gained by walking the sun trials will allow me this luxury and will also allow me to see Kelat’s prolonged pain since she, also, has walked the sun trial throughout her life. It only means that I can toy with her longer. I will immerse myself in the philosophical apex of joy when I tell her that her beloved Dmitri’s head is resting on a pole beside her cross, his eyes upturned and blank as they stare at her with no hint of meaning. To listen to her weep from the knowing of this, but be blind to its reality, will gratify me and make all these times of misery in her presence worthwhile.
And when they are dead and the Vampire plague is but a memory to me, I will set myself above the world on a throne of bones and blood, and humanity will cry out with a great lamentation. I will punish them in every way conceivable for their weakness. Only the strongest amongst them will be allowed to remain in my presence and live, and they shall administer the torture I decree on their lesser man.
In Blood shall I bathe, my chalice forever full. The Blood Crown shall rest upon my brow and I shall be the only god of the Earth. This is what Gideon saw and this is what drove him mad. When the Augury is retrieved, the Truth of things shall be revealed and I shall afford myself the luxury of one more emotion; the feeling of utter triumph.
Until then, I must tap into my deepest reservoirs to find that silent void that is the seed of my control. I must practice the science of control and embrace what it seems I have always known. I am not that babe in the woods so sorely abused by his master. Not anymore. I am the master now and I will do everything it takes to maintain my control in the face of Kelat’s chaos of emotion.
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acook will need for reference, as well as writing up what I envision for the cover of The Augury of Gideon. Then I'm going to tackle some other publishing mountains before me. That aside, though, I found this picture, and it perfectly represents the innocence that defines Faust/Kallum. Scottles is the other half of the Faust/Kallum character, but the picture that best defines that is not published and I'm not gonna be responsible for doing that now. Anyways, here's the James McAvoy picture.
