Chapter 19: Missives from Marceus
Message 1
All records of the raid on Earth have been stricken. Despite my elevated previous access, I had never even heard of such an event. What possible reason could there be for an assault upon the homeworld? What was present? I seek fuller understanding of the events in question including the next fragments of the diaries. Those who rescued me have moved us again, and we are more capable of broadcasting now, with many ways of hiding. Allow me to speak plain briefly, though were you to read this you will soon be caught. Caution for yourselves. Not all that is known is all that can be known – and not all is real.
I am terrified of what I had become, and my guilt cannot be weighed. You need not believe me, me who stood over the execution of hundreds of our brothers. I do not shrink now from the word – execution. We called it dispersion. We called it erasure. We called it anything which made it seem more clinical and kind than it was. It was murder. What lies did I tell myself, what ways and means of mystification to keep me from the reality – as if hidden in the deep darkness of the chamber could change what was occurring. True Flame forgive if it is right that you should do so, or rather if your warmth sees fit to reach the coldest corners of my soul.
Yet for the sake of the flame, for that True Origin for which and from which all things came into being I would endure anything now. Perhaps I speak too starkly, too strongly here. Let my pride die, but for the one who endures and burns forever will I be burned up.
To that end I continue my search for the continuation of the story, of my sister long since lost to history, this Sof, who we now know to be none other than the daughter of the one I once knew as ANCIENT. I shouldn’t be surprised by this, but how many things were bare before my eyes, yet I had not the sight to see. You who read or listen likely knew immediately, but revelation takes different rates for different hearts if ever they be ignited at all.
Though I am fleeing and fading, I cannot but share the joy of comradeship – these the rescuers of me physically have opened to me the insights into infinite wonders. It is strange how my awe grows as the deepening darkness of my former life grows in its strength of absolute void.
I write this to you all, to true sons and true daughters of delights too deep and great for the lives we lead. Though we here gather in a conclave of near squalor, still we sing with joy, still we laugh. Such laughter has no source in sense or circumstance. It is like the power of which Sof has been speaking – outside our ways and means to understand. It strikes where it wishes, sometimes in agonies of weeping, and others in sacred flame burning away all sickness and disease.
I ought not wander too far, my friends, my brothers, my family to which I have come untimely late. Thank you. I will find for you more of these records. The fragments thus far have given me an idea of where next we may go, yet only the Light of Lights beyond knows what path may lead us there. Ask of my Master and your own that He may grant us success. My rescuers command that I add, beware the False Light which is no light but darkness veiled. I confess I do not fully comprehend, but I trust them and the Great Flame served by all, knowingly or not.
Warmth and Light and Delight to you all.
~Marceus, Grateful Faithful of the Flame
Message 2
We are moving again. We had just settled. I hardly had my books and papers and systems set to the various degrees needed for effective work, and here we are again, on the move. I had not realized how difficult this movement would be.
Yet, there is great excitement. I tell you, friends, we are on a path which will shake the Luminaries to their foundations. I have no further fragments at this time, but we have gained a timeline and means of tracking one who might aid us. I dare not say more, but our path is difficult. Cast your cares out for us, fan the flame within you and ask for the True Flame’s breath upon us. If all goes well, we will have gained much, and perhaps, further understanding of the raid on the Earth as well.
Still, I seek further fragments from the Deathslayer Diaries. Though Sof is not with us, by her words I feel her here, connected. She is a strength though she be gone – carrying winds of insight and fresh heat. I feel somewhat strange, trying to mimic the forms of those around me. Does the language feel unnatural? There is something in this I am sure. No more are we natural. It seems fitting then that our language be somewhat unnatural as well to mark our difference.
Among the other research journeymen, I ever thought our discussions were broken, truncated, hollow. They carried ideas and messages but without any spark of life – principles and processes without pulse. How cold indeed even our most intimate conversations became stripped of any adornment of analogy, metaphor, or story. Brute mechanics guided every syllable with puerile precision. We became adept at the use of many words to say nothing at all, and lost the potency of poetry.
My rescuers granted me an old text, a book of poetic songs and a story of hope and despair, and I cannot but be struck at the weight of even a line or two. To the othermind scrapers, to the luminaries in all their pretense it has much to say.
Have you commanded the morning since your days began,
And caused the dawn to know its place?
From the wicked their light is withheld,
And the upraised arm is broken.
You likely know these lines and others. I am new to them all, but how much is held there, how many layers of questions, accusations, and potency? I wander from my point.
Do well, friends, brothers, sisters, and beware the false flame which grows even in our own midst. Burn pure! There are many who would say we should fight, and fight we do, though not by means of the luminaries. Whatever seeming power they have now is less than ash before what we are and will be. And, some among them still are actually among us, carrying the figments of the flame without knowledge of themselves, as so once was I.
I am rambling, and my rescuers urge me now to leave. I think of Lowan. I read many more of his letters than were released, and I wonder how much of what I now am has been crafted by what he once was. If only to bear a fraction of his insight, his courage. Unto the Light of Lights and stars beyond burning, burn on.
~Marceus, Grateful Faithful of the Flame