The work of the eyes is done. Go now and do the heart-work on the images imprisoned within you.
~Rilke
When told your sight will be taken from you in just a few days time what are the last things you want your eyes to see? I went to the sea, the woods, the dawn, the sunset. I roamed as far as i could in the hours when the sun was at its most beautiful. I watched the faces that I loved the most. I ran to find my child, desperate to see its face before i could no more. But the child was not mine. It was a curse and a gift. I never thought for a moment the child would not be mine. I had never dreamed that whilst I was foolish enough to fill myself up upon love and never give a thought to the consequences of letting myself love two women, that Elena would be so much like me. The child belonged to another man. At least I did not lose the opportunity to look upon my child when my sight is taken from me.
The ground his hard and cold and stark beneath my knees. As I kneel in the dark of the crypt I close my eyes and remember the sunrise. No sooner have i closed my eyes then i open them again. No! I drink in the dark of the tomb, its dimly lit walls, the altar of Calligo slick ebony marble and obsidian stone. It gleams in the firelight. For all the darkness here, it is not as whole and consuming as the eternal darknes that awaits me. I let my eyes look, i let them see the colours, the shadows, the light and the beauty, even here, underground. This is the last place that I will see. I will not close my eyes.
I force myself to look up. Up higher, Tenebrae. I look up to the Magesterium. They stand before me, adorned in satin cloaks, perfect as midnight, trimmed in moonlight silver. Their eyes glow white, their half moon sigils light the darkness. At my back my brothers stand in a half-circle. They are solemn and silent, they know my sentence, they know my misdeeds.
I should be filled with shame. The light that gleams from a vial one of the bishops holds tells me I should. I have shamed the Night Order by breaking my vow to Caligo. I may not be the first Disciple to desire a woman. But I am the first to lay with one. I should be ashamed, the vial tells me I should. It’s light, Solis’ light mocks me - so why do I feel such little shame? Why is it that the only thing I regret is not being able to look upon Boudika again?
Memories of her are not enough. They fade with time, their colours become muted, the details hazy. I already live to regret the day I can no longer remember what she looks like. My heart clamours, terrified within my chest. I will not cry. This is what I tell myself when my eyes sting and my sight becomes blurry. I will not cry and lose all that I see now, the last things that I see.
Light glimmers of Caligo’s altar. It catches my eye (maybe the last thing that will). I look to it and pray to my goddess as i stare at the beautiful marble. I pray for forgiveness, I pray that she takes my memories too, so that i may not grieve what i have lost sight of. Yet i know my prayers are in vain. This is the art of my punishment, this is its whole meaning. I am here to be blinded so that I might forever be consumed by Caligo’s darkness - that i might always be focussed upon her darkness and not tempted by material, mortal desires.
My shadows tremble around me, they know, they know what is to come. I am afraid. No, I am terrified. I feel it in my limbs, my body trembles with the anticipation - not of the pain of the act, but what comes after. Darkness, unremitting darkness. I will be lost to another world and I am not sure I am ready. My sight is the price I must pay to remain a monk and being a monk is all I have left. I have strayed from my goddess, I have not been dutiful nor disciplined.
You do not understand duty, or even discipline.You don’t deserve to look at me.
And Boudika is right. I tip my chin up to the Magistrate who steps forward. I am ready to learn duty and discipline. I am not worthy to look upon the girl who haunts my heart, who scars my throat. The Magistrate looks upon the marks with a sneer and i do not flinch. She has put the sea in my heart and in my blood. I will hold the vision of her body as long as I can, even as it fades.
My eyes drift to the vial of liquid light. Solis’ magic gleams golden from within it. It seems fitting that the liquid light that will take my sight is as pure and beautiful as Elena’s golden skin. I look up.
I am ready.
10-03-2020, 12:03 PM - This post was last modified: 10-03-2020, 12:09 PM by Tenebrae
They are waiting for him, down and down, past the temple that is all darkness save for the spiraling circle of ceiling that shows the moon that watches from high overhead, at the apex of its journey. This will be done out of even mother moon’s sight.
They have been fasting, in preparation for this night. They have been praying. And some of them wonder, as they look up on their brother’s bare body marked with pious scars (and more sinful marks, too), if Tenebrae has been doing the same. Some of them wonder what else has marked his body - a woman’s teeth, her scent, her skin?
Oh, Brother Tenebrae. The love of the goddess should have been enough.
Candles flicker and drip black wax, quiet hisses in the darkness that punctuate their breathing. Tenebrae is the only one trembling, but all their shadows follow suit - they seethe, they roil, they move more than they should, even in the light of ninety-nine candles.
The vial is the brightest thing in the room, brighter than the little flames, brighter than the moon-gleam of the Order’s eyes. The Chief Magistrate’s face is lit by it, all hollows. His gaze does not leave the bowed neck of the stallion before him. And when Tenebrae looks up, he, too, lifts his chin, and all the Order begins to stamp their feet, and a hollow, dreadful drumming fills the chamber. The candle flames flutter, the tallow hisses, and the temple echoes with a sound like an army advancing, like a beast beating a stallion-skin drum.
And then the Chief Magistrate drops his head, and the sound stops at once, and silence crawls over the chamber before he speaks.
“This water was blessed by a priestess of Solis. It will take your sight, brother Tenebrae, so that all the world will be shadows to you, and you might contemplate Caligo’s mercy. But also contemplate her power, Tenebrae, and the devotion and loyalty She asks of you - for you are not only one of Her children, but one of Her Disciples. And you have sinned against Her.”
Only now does he look from the sinful disciple, to beckon forth the man holding the vial. Its glow casts over Tenebrae, the white moons of his eyes, the scars at his neck.
“Because you confessed, and repented, you well dwell in Her shadow forevermore. But sin not again, for Her punishment is death.”
Carefully, almost tenderly, the Chief Magistrate twists the cork from the vial’s neck. All the Brothers watch as he tips it, his magic firmly beneath the sinner’s chin to keep his head turned up, first into one eye, and then the other. It is the bright, burning gold of the sun, and every disciple in the chamber holds their breath as they watch the drops fall.
The work of the eyes is done. Go now and do the heart-work on the images imprisoned within you.
~Rilke
Though I look up, the vial does not let me forget that it is there. It gleams, brighter than all around it. Pure sunlight, shattering, blistering the night. Looking at it makes me yearn, hungry, savage. Good, I need that for what comes next.
The Chief Magistrate looms close and all falls still. I cannot even see the shadows breathe. My brothers are still, I fancy i can hear their hearts pounding, like a herd of gazelle fleeing. But I think that is just mine, fighting, terrified. I would like to be brave for this, I would like to feel more ready than i said I was mere moments ago. But I am not. How can I ever be when I know this is the last thing that I see?
I look up, up at the magistrate as he uncorks the bottle. I do not know what I expected, but there is no noise, no grand spectacle. Sin not again The Magistrate tells me and I do not think i can say that I won’t. As a child I stood and took my vows and promised to love my Goddess my court above all else. But I grew up, I changed. I sinned. I know that things change, that time alters everything.
I close my lips. If death is what comes to me in the future, if i sin again, then so be it. But for now, I will love my goddess as much as I can. For that alone I am glad for this Blinding. That temptation will be removed, that i will live in darkness forevermore. In that way, this is a perfect punishment.
I tilt my head back and the vial tips. My breath catches in my throat, i see the first droplet cling to the lip of the vial and then… it falls. The agony is instant. I cannot help my cries. They echo, they sound like a whole army is crying with me. But I am sure my brothers are still and silent. I look up, up through the tears of my injured eye. I must look up, I must be proud and strong and - the second droplet falls and i am crying out again, writhing upon the ground. My cheeks are hot and wet. Whether with blood or tears or magic, i do not know. Beside me my shadows writhe too, bound to me, contorting themselves like a dog.
They wait for me, my brothers, until I have screamed myself into exhaustion and darkness. I am gasping, weary and broken. I see nothing at all. I can barely hear above my rasping breath. The air is cold across my sweatslick body. I feel nothing after a while. I do not even feel it when my brothers pick me off the stained, stone floor. They carry me out, away from the temple. I hear nothing, I feel nothing, I see nothing.
