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Post by Biblically Accurate Angel on Dec 20, 2022 22:58:38 GMT -5
The Chemical Wedding
A NOVEL BY EYES
As we walk together this grassy hill Averting doom of earthly ills Sitting by the river wide And drawing from the mountainside
The King is calling for his land Guided by his earthy hand A ferry to fear and not to hate A barter now a-fore too late
We twist through the sceptered isles We drift into our demonic wiles My mind, her soul, entwined, entombed Upon this flowered sky marooned
O then shall once our trumpets sound And buried deep, we, in the ground As all our lives come towards our ends We'll find the chemical wedding, my friends.
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Post by Biblically Accurate Angel on Dec 20, 2022 23:00:49 GMT -5
BOOK I. King in Crimson
“Arise, awake: The king in crimson comes.”
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Post by Biblically Accurate Angel on Dec 20, 2022 23:06:53 GMT -5
Chapter 1 “WE HAVE HAD peace for far too long, and I am beginning to fear that war is again on the horizon. It has been quite some time since those idolaters of the Blackson Beast were seen; as decisive as any of our victories may have been, evil can never fully be stamped out from the land, and another of their heads may be rearing again, like a more monstrous form of the hydra of ancient legend. Thus I believe our main focus must be on building up our military strength right now, so that when the time comes, we can fully eradicate those wanton murderers from Ordos once and for all. What say you, Alistair?” Alistair Erdagovern blinked. Setting down the drink he held in his hand, his eyes rolled towards the direction of the speaker. The face of Alfred Dremin stared back at him. Alfred was dressed, as usual, in a grey suit, with a swash of red emblazoned on his arm. This mirrored the blue on Alistair’s own. He sighed, and, placing a hand on his friend’s shoulder, looked deep into his eyes. “Leave the politics alone for now, Alfred. Let us enjoy this current moment instead, and celebrate in the arrival of a new member of our Circle. Come, have another glass of wine, and let the horrors of the world wait until tomorrow. Drink! drink!” he urged, as he handed the Ray of Red the half full bottle. Standing alongside the two were the Rays of Silver and White, who altogether made for one of the most iconic quartets in the history of the Circle of Rays. These four men had grown up alongside each other, had shared in pivotal moments with each other, and now in their middle age acted as the defacto leaders of their group. The Circle of Rays was the name for the elite organization that was sworn to protect their native Island of Ordos, which sat separated by water from England. The twenty-four Rays that made up the Order led the island’s government and military, with each member assigned a specific color that was always passed down through their first-born child. It was actually the induction ceremony for the new Ray of Gold that these four men were currently attending. Simon Criddleton had decided to retire his title and settle down for the remainder of his life, and his son Stephen would be taking up the reins in his place. The Rays of Gold were the historic Keepers of the Ordonian Archives, which housed ancient texts that dated long before Ordos was even called ‘Ordos’. It was a noble job that Stephen would be fulfilling, and his father was beaming with pride as the torch was ceremonially passed. Simon had spent years teaching his son about the work that went into being the head archivist of Ordos, and Stephen had not just been eager to succeed, he had eclipsed even his father by the end. No one could fit into that role quite as well as the Criddleton heir, Simon smiled to himself. No one. It was during the post-ceremony celebration that Alfred Dremin had tried to turn the conversation back around to the politics of the day, but Alistair’s insistence in following down that path led the Ray of Silver, Spencer Stephenson, to instead commend Stephen Criddleton to the group. “A wonderful young man is joining us today,” he said fondly. “His father has raised up a fine archivist. I look forward to the day when my daughter can officially join the Circle as well. At least in the near future she will be an excellent assistant archivist alongside him as he takes up the helm.” “Do you feel at all disappointed that she hasn’t been as interested in your familial role of medicine?” Hamlin Smitt, the Ray of White, asked. Spencer shrugged. “What am I to say? It is her life, not mine. Don’t get me wrong: I’m sure that Meredith would be interested in filling my spot one day, she has learned most of the knowledge that I possess and I have taught her about the ways to receive more on her own. But I cannot break her away from the Archives. She seems glued to all those texts that I cannot even read. So therefore I bless them both in the same way that I am sure they will bless Ordos working together. So I say — to history, my friends!” And he raised his glass. Alfred rolled his eyes. “Glad to see you so cavalier. There’s not a chance in hell that Donald will bow out of his duties. We Reds are born warriors and leading the Ordonian military is our birthright. No son of mine will walk from that!” Alistair gave his friend a gentle pat on the back. “Daniel is still undecided in what he wants to be, and I’m trying to give him the space he needs right now while I’m still the Ray of Blue to let him figure it out. There’s time enough for decisions, I think.” Having said this, and downing his glass with a smile to his friends, the Ray of Blue walked forth to mingle with the rest of the participants. Whenever a new Ray was ‘sworn in’, so to speak, they made sure to make an event out of it. All Rays, former and current, and their spouses and children attended. A ceremony took place, in which the artifact of the lineage would be symbolically passed on to the new member, either by the former Ray or, in case of death, another member of the Circle. These artifacts, items never really used in day-to-day life and usually only ever brought out for these ceremonies, were unique to each Ray. The Golden Artifact was the Kodex of Criddleton, which had been inspired by the first man to take up the title of the Ray of Gold, John Criddleton. A firm believer of the importance in understanding and studying the past, John’s lifework was compiling a dedicated history of Ordos, from its first foundings as Magykka to its role in the modern world. He traveled throughout the island, writing down oral tales and gathering ancient articles detailing events from the island’s history and worked to decipher and recontextualize them. He founded the Archives of the Ordonian Nation in 1116, where he spent the rest of his days hard at work to produce a single volume of pure Ordonian history. Unfortunately, he died of a fever before he could finish his goal, but his son Alexander took over where his father left off, eventually creating the Kodex of Criddleton, the first copy of A General Biography of the Island of Ordos: Its History and People, from Past to Present, in 1136. The work was revered throughout Ordos, and every subsequent Ray of Gold’s ultimate goal was to expand on and update the Biography, from new research illuminating aspects of the past that were unknown before, to new events that had occured during their lifetimes to make sure it was up-to-date. Each Ray of Gold also kept extensive journals that could be used to get an insight into the daily life of the nation, making the job easier for those who would be next in line to take up the call. After the ceremonies, the gathering would feast until the morning hours, with much drink and much merrymaking. So it was that Stephen Criddleton was now leaning back in a chair with his fiance Lucretia Amanté at his side, ignoring the frivolity of the event and instead basking in his own quiet satisfaction with life and the new role he would now be playing on a daily basis. The fact that he was now the one in charge of the archives both excited and scared him a bit. Ever since he was a child, he had been fascinated by the history of Ordos, retold and passed along from father to son countless times among the Rays. His father Simon had taken up the mantle simply out of necessity and respect for his bloodline. Indeed, Simon had decided to retire at the relatively young age of 50, with Stephen now taking over at a mere 27 years old. Stephen inherited the ancestral archival passion that Simon had not. Simon Criddleton was a wanderer by nature, traveling where he saw fit, not content to stay home all day. As soon as he could see that Stephen was the right man for the job, he decided to quit while he was ahead, and spend a hearty retirement doing what he loved — exploring Ordos rather than documenting it. Stephen was a better Keeper of the Archives than Simon could ever be, because he possessed a passion that his father never had. Numerous members of the party came up to Stephen and bestowed their best wishes upon him, but beyond that, he did not interact with anyone but Lucretia for a long while. Everyone knew each other quite well except for him. Even as a child, he stayed home often from the gatherings that the Rays would hold. He spent his upbringing engaged in books and in the art of creation, using his own imagination to bring to life the stories he held in his mind. Thus the sea of faces that he stared at were filled with unfamiliar characters, and having not inherited his father’s warm and outgoing nature, he simply kept to himself for the most part. There was, of course, Meredith Stephenson, the heir to the Line of Silver, who worked alongside him in the Archives and who he regarded as a dear friend, but she was not at this event, being out on an important research errand that conflicted with the ceremony. Stephen had to admit, her dedication to knowledge certainly rivaled his own. But there was one person here that the new Ray of Gold did find familiar, a face that he was always happy to see. This person was Alicia Blackson, the Black Ray. Stephen regarded her as something of an older sister. The two of them had spent swaths of their childhood together. Like Stephen, Alicia had not been very sociable with the other Ray offspring, instead creating battles in her mind and forcing Stephen to come on expeditions into the wild to fight the beasts that haunted their imaginations. The two played off each quite well, with Stephen always returning home to log the latest monster slain by the duo. The traditional role of the Black Ray was that of the weapons manufacturer. The first in the line was Arthur Blackson, a blacksmith who crafted the deadliest weapons Ordos had ever seen. Legends were told of how he once slew a ‘Great Horned Beast’, but no one, not even the Archivists, knew the full extent of the story because he stayed silent about it. Alicia had been inducted after the sudden death of her estranged father, William Blackson, who had been sleepwalking for a week, with a face his long-suffering wife said was pale as clay, and with cold sweats that poured like a waterfall. On the seventh night, he choked to death on his own vomit and left a mess for everyone else to clean up. Alicia, though a master at crafting weapons, was caught off-guard by her father’s demise (which she suspected ultimately lay in his alcohol addiction) and further shocked to see how fast the rest of the Rays descended upon her, clamoring for her to replace him. She never showed it, but there remained some bitterness with her life beyond the duties of the Ordonian Protectorate being drastically cut short. It was while Lucretia was taking a short ‘leave of absence’ that Alicia walked over to Stephen and took up a seat beside him. “Well, how does it feel?” she asked, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Very strange,” he replied. “It will be odd not to have my father lurking over my shoulder, and the idea of being in charge myself is a little daunting. But I’m so excited to be given the chance to write my own name in the Ordonian book of history and I cannot wait for what lies ahead of me. Meredith and I have much to do in the upcoming weeks and months and I wanna tackle everything with a gusto that I know she shares with me. It’s… it’s some enormous shoes I am filling, and I have such an awe for the wearing of the shoes.” “It’s nice to finally have you joining us,” Alicia responded in her best ambassadorial voice. “It’s a role you were quite literally born to play. Ordos has seen no better Archivist than you, Stephen. I wish you all the luck in the world.” “Thank you,” he responded, and in the same playful gesture he would make after slaying the dragons in their childhood, he raised her hand to his lips. It was at this moment that his fiance walked back into the room. Perhaps it was the sense of ease that the two shared between them. Perhaps it was simply the fact that they were members of the opposite sex, which often leads people to think that there is something deeper lurking underneath the surface. Perhaps it was merely a fear sprung from her own mind, a fear at a lack of stability and of being used. Whatever the reason, Lucretia did not share in Stephen’s friendship with Alicia Blackson. Lucretia always guarded herself in her interactions with the Black Ray, remaining cordial and never voicing the suspicions on her mind, but deep down feeling ill at ease whenever the two of them locked eyes. It must be said that Lucretia had a nervous disposition anyway, having had a rough upbringing that forced her to wear a façade of calculated cool, but which was nothing more than a mask to the demons that plagued her mind. Stephen Criddleton was the only person who she could unmask herself around, and her dislike of Alicia may have simply arisen from her desire to be loved and not to lose her fiance. In any case, Alicia herself could not understand Lucretia much at all. Interacting with her was like walking on a frozen lake that, though it wasn’t about to crack completely, still made such loud noises that you were in constant alert in case the next step should lead to disaster. Yet she could tell that the two lovers were happy with each other, and thus did her best to support them in her own way. One of those ways was having as little to do with Lucretia as possible, who she was sure was judging her for one reason or another. Alicia did her best to respect his fiance’s unvoiced boundaries. If Lucretia was happy about anything, it was that she didn’t have to interact with Alicia all that often. And what did Stephen think of the two women’s interactions? He may have discerned some uneasiness between the pair, sure, but always seemed to write it off as him simply overthinking it. Neither said a word to him about any issues so he just put it out of his mind. He was not a man interested in starting any sort of drama, was Stephen, and in his own pacifist nature, he chose to remain silent. Upon returning to Stephen’s side, Lucretia strode softly towards him. Alicia flashed her a smile, saying, “I was just wishing your man a hearty congratulations, Miss Amanté. A fine Archivist he shall be.” Lucretia smiled back, but directed her gaze at Stephen. “Yes, he’s worked so hard for this. I’m very proud.” Alicia could feel the warmth that she possessed when speaking to Stephen. Such warmth always made her uncomfortable, so she gave a nod to them both, and bidding farewell, escaped from the scene altogether, choosing to forego the event and return to her own room. Shortly thereafter, the Ray of Blue strode up to Stephen. Indicating a nearby chair, she asked plainly, “May I sit here?” “By all means,” replied the always unimposing Stephen Criddleton. Alistair Erdagovern had a bottle of port in his hand. He held it up and squinted at the label. “1465. A good year for port. May I offer you both some?” Lucretia declined right away, but Stephen, after pondering, accepted. “Just a little bit, please. I don’t really drink in general.” “Port was the first drink that I enjoyed,” Alistair said as he poured their two glasses. “It was my father’s favorite. The first time I ever had it was shortly before his death. I think he could sense his time on earth was limited. My family has had a history of… almost second sight, so to speak. As if we can sense things that are about to happen before they occur. I think he felt the doom approaching. Shortly before the Battle of St. Culdee’s, he took me into his office and poured a glass of port for us both. Then he asked me questions to get deeper into my mind, see where I stood, almost as though he wanted to know if I was ready for the role. I guess he was content. A week later I heard about his slaying by the Mage of Bronze. The world swirled around me, as I took on my new role and helped the Circle defeat the Confederacy. That time is long gone, but my taste in wines has remained.” Stephen sipped carefully. The alcohol still did not gel with him, but he could taste the rich flavor beneath that he could see growing on him. He listened to the Ray in Blue describe his father in detail, what had driven home the respect that Alistair so dearly held onto, and how that had come to influence his own role in the Circle. Finally, Alistair turned to Stephen, looked the young Archivist dead in the eyes, and asked simply: “What is it that you hope to achieve in your time as part of the Circle of Rays?” Stephen pondered the question. What was it that was driving him, pushing him to uncover the hidden truths that were waiting for him in the Archives? What was it that fueled his passion, that motivated him to be the very best he could be? What was it that made him zealous? “I dunno,” he said finally. “I guess I just really like history.” Alistair smiled. “Sometimes that’s all it takes.”
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