tenebrae
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.
