Content Warning : Do you want to continue?
This poem contains content which some readers may find disturbing.
It is unsuitable for children or anyone who is easily offended.
YES
I am over 18 years old, I have been warned and I still want to read this poem.
I am over 18 years old, I have been warned and I still want to read this poem.
NO
I don't want to read this type of content, take me back to the previous page.
I don't want to read this type of content, take me back to the previous page.
deepundergroundpoetry.com
The Blood of Kalaborea: Part I
- The Blood of Kalaborea: Part I -
For over one thousand years, the Hyperborean Empire had existed and thence slowly declined as its' brightness darkened and its' people became decadent but not yet complacent. That would come swiftly enough in its' own time. They were aware of their fall from grace, of their lofty nation's fall from power and importance, and they were of a mindset that should all fall into chaos then they as a people would... as a whole... leap into that chaos with a mad gleam in their eyes, heedless of all the consequences of that impulsive leap. There were islands in the Atlantic, Pacific, and Indian oceans that no longer exist today... and continents such as Atlantis, Lemuria, and Mu. They were not called by those names by the peoples who lived there though... those names were inventions of historians and scholars in later history who sought to name these places which the ancients knew in such very different capacities entirely. The ancient Egyptians were the first to use the name Atlantis, some scholars claim, and thence taught it to the Greeks. But in truth, the Atlanteans themselves called their continent simply by the name of “Atlan” from which the later name Atlantis would one day derive. Lemuria was not called such even remotely... it was known by the name “Pahan'gatab” and where Atlan represented a stagnant form of order that was enforced through fear and terror, and a kind of technocracy... Pahan'gatab was given to a kind of chaos and madness that were characteristic of that continent due to the legendary insanity of its' inhabitants.
You see... humans for the most part dwelt in Atlan, at first somewhat rather savage and wild peoples of a more primitive sort than would come later. Warlike barbarians, for lack of a better term, who were over time taught the arts of civilization by the gods until at length they became quite civilized indeed. The old Titans gave them technology, and they used it to better themselves until the final days of their civilization when madness overtook them at last and they stole forbidden secrets from the gods which led to the gods responding by authoring their destruction with the aid of its' last and final Queen. But the history of Pahan'gatab was very different by far! The primitive peoples of Atlan were descendants of survivors from Mars (a planet known as Nergalia to the people who actually once lived there), and refugees from the lost colony of Eden and other colonies where the gods had kept humans in servitude. In contrast, the people of Pahan'gatab had a more developed and sophisticated civilization at least in the beginning. They were descended from survivors of lost Rahab and among them thus lived the reptilian people who were the most remote and ancient ancestors of the race known as the El'vril (whom you, dear reader, would call by the term Elven and associate with attractive beings form myth, legend, and tales of fantasy). There was trade and peace between the humans and the Kolabi, as the reptilians called themselves... a name which derived from an old name for the planet Ra'qia: Kolob, which was the same world as was known by the name of Kobol... and a great civilization was raised upon an island far to the south and west of Panhan'gatab which bore the ancient name of Rylian'koren'ja which the ancient Sumerians and Babylonians recorded as Ry'lia and it was the domain of the great Kolabi priest-king Ku'tulu who was the emissary of the Lords of the Abyss in those times. The Lords of the Abyss were fallen Lost Lords of Ra'qia, a group of dark magic-practicing nobles who had sided with the Titans of old and fell from grace, going willingly into exile in the times before mankind existed upon Earth. They held that Chaos was the noblest of all principles and their advanced philosophies regarding it became the basis for my own beliefs regarding Chaos as a creative, rather than a purely destructive, principle.
It was in the time of old Ry'lia that there was a split in Pahan'gatab as the old human aristocracy grew jealous and bitter of their Kolabi allies... seeing the growing power of the Kolabi, they then feared the reptilian race would soon conquer them, and so they kicked out the Kolabi from their continent after learning their secrets. Secrets they thought nothing of prying from the source by means of tortures that inflicted pain on the soul and spirit as much as upon the physical body. It was a dark and vicious time!
Following that, Pahan'gatab isolated itself from the rest of the world and turned its' attention to the refinement of dark sorcery and forbidden technologies of alien origins. This would one day draw the attention of the gods and in the same cataclysm that wiped out Atlan... Pahan'gatab perished identically as its' unholy priest-kings pushed it past madness into an apocalyptic end which could not be undone. Ry'lia also perished in that cataclysm, along with the continent known to historians today as Mu, for the gods were as fearful of the Kolabi's advanced technology as they had been wrathful at the misuse of the technologies of Atlan and Pahan'gatab. Mu was known in those times by the name of “Dilmun” and the people of Sumeria and Babylonia believed it to have been a veritable paradise upon Earth. It was the continent on which the gods lived back then, along with selected humans who served them faithfully... it was kept isolated from the rest of the world, and the only reason the gods destroyed it was because they wanted to insure that their own private technologies and secrets would never fall into human hands even by accident. It was after that, that the gods retreated to their great craft, the Olympias Novasi, and kept themselves forever apart from the doings of humanity thenceforth. But for a brief time, the empire of Hyperborea united all of these lands and kingdoms, and what I will tell you of now is the rise and fall of that great Emprie. Like all empires, it did not begin simply but rather over time it grew by degrees until it reached a point at which it could not be ignored. Most were content to pretend not to notice this.
It was in the times before the gods decided to enact the cataclysm and purge that history would call “The Great Deluge”, when Atlan and Pahan'gatab were in the latter years of their existence and when Ry'lia had just started to gain its' reputation as a lost and forbidden realm. The ancient Vril race from the Aldebaran star system, in alliance with the Lords of the Abyss, had conducted various experiments upon the Kolabi of Ry'lia and the end result of these genetic and evolutionary experiments was the race known as the El'vril. The El'vril had the blood of the Vril mixed with the blood of the Kolabi in their veins, and physically they were very different from both of their parent races. In height, the El'vril had ranged from 5'4 to 5'8 but never beyond 5'8. The tallest among them oft reached 5'9, but that was rare. They were fair and smooth of skin, exactly like the Vril, but with black hair instead of platinum blonde, almond-shaped eyes and tapered (in some cases outright pointed) ears. They were refined, aristocratic, and had the Vril's arrogant belief that they were created and destined to be the world's masters above all other peoples or races upon the planet. The Vril taught them this arrogance and this refinement... and the Kolabi taught them a penchant for casual cruelty that bordered sometimes as bloodthirsty sadism towards their enemies (and sometimes sadomasochism towards themselves). Twisted, dark lessons!
During the early periods when the various human kingdoms were just rising in power, the ancient and forgotten Vril and the El'vril were plotting to amass their own rise of sorts. For long before humanity's empires arose, the Vril and the El'vril lived beneath the Earth in a hidden place known as Agartha and there grew strong and mighty and so much so... that the gods treated them as their equals, even allowing them to journey freely to and from Dilmun as it pleased them. Then, at some unknown point, humans made contact with the Vril and the El'vril, and together they established the nation of Hyperborea in the cold and northern reaches of what would one day become the European continent. And from there, they conquered much of the world and the peoples of Atlan and Pahan'gatab willingly paid them and their rulers their due tribute. Those who resisted were delivered unto fates unspeakable, and so dark was the reputation of Hyperborea that people called it the “Forbidden Empire” just like the inhuman empire of the Ancient Ones that existed before the gods settled their colonies upon the Earth (which was ruled prior by things of which none may speak or know aught of save in nightmarish whispers). I had been witness to the savagery of that primordial domain, and knew enough of its' darkness to be certain never to court its' ire. But for the most part the Ancient Ones kept to their own devices unless made wrathful.
There was an island in the middle of the southern Pacific ocean, somewhere between Pahan'gatab and storied Ry'lia, and it was there the Hyperboreans made their southern capital, at one point abandoning their former northern capital solely to those humans that first banded with the Vril and the El'vril to so form the Hyperboean nation in its' infancy. The humans of Old Hyperboea, as the northern realm was by this point called, shared their realm with the noble Aesiri warrior gods and the secondary empire of Old Hyperborea continued until the mysterious event known as the Hyperborean Ragnarok took place in which the central technological power source of Old Hyperborea, the techno-organic Yggdrasil, was destroyed, resulting in a rather singular catastrophe that spelled the end of that civilization. You see, the Yggdrasil was based in Antarctica which back then was not yet covered in ice and snow. It was from there, and from places in both the north and south poles (which contain secret entrances into and from Agartha) that the Vril first emerged unto the surface of the world. The Yggdrasil provided power to two smaller power stations – one in northern Europe and one at an undisclosed southern location possibly in the city of Kor'nugala in the African continent. In the very moment that the Yggdrasil was destroyed, it caused a great atmospheric disturbance that resulted thereafter in Antarctica freezing over and the other two power stations failing. When they had failed, so too did the technologies of the civilizations that depended upon them. Hence the collapse of Old Hyperborea. In the wake of that apocalyptic happening, the people of New Hyperborea became more aggressive and warlike than ever they had been before... and from their southern Pacific island home they launched new efforts to establish dominance over the human nations around them whilst the El'vril renewed their ties to the Kolabi of Ry'lia and made pacts with the Lords of the Abyss and other powers both natural and supernatural in nature. Eventually, the Vril themselves left New Hyperboea in order to wholesale invade the human realms, and during the course of that disastrous invasion the humans of Atlan and Pahan'gatab banded together to defeat them in the end. The Hyperborean Empire thereupon collapsed as the Vril retreated back to Agartha... leaving the El'vril to fend for themselves. But the El'vril had grown immensely powerful in that time, and with the aid of the Lords of the Abyss they conquered mostly all that the Vril had not, for the humans were weakened at that time from their efforts to drive off the Vril peoples once and for all. Thus was born a new Hyperborean Empire which the El'vril called the Kalaborean Empire. For Hyperborea was a name that had meant “Beyond the North Wind” and now this new empire reigned solely in the south of the Earth. Thus, Kalaborea was the name thereafter used, for it meant “Upon the South Wind” for thus had been the new empire established by the “Elven” peoples. During its' greatest heights of glory... it was called “The Empire of the Blessed”, and humans grew to fear, hate and despise their El'vril overlords far more than ever they had the Vril before them. As the Empire of the Blessed rose in power so too did the civilization of the Kolabi in Ry'lia decline as the reptilian peoples there degenerated into savagery and barbarism whilst their ruler Ku'tulu fell into a dreamless sleep (likely a coma brought on by some disease or another) from which he never woke and died. They kept a shrine to him, the Kolabi did, and offered their dead deified ruler sacrifices of blood and lives both human and animal in origin but sadly Ku'tulu never again awoke and his remains were interred in a great city which became lost over time.
Eventually, Ku'tulu's remains were taken by the Vril in secret to Agartha and no human eye had ever laid eyes upon them again. This was all the origin of the long-forbidden Sumerian belief that one day, with enough sacrifices, Ku'tulu would rise again from his “slumber” and thence give power to those who awakened him. It was a false belief that had its' origins in the savage superstitions of the declining Kolabi race. Having existed now for over one thousand years... the empire which had begun with the Hyperboreans and which was now carried on by the Kalaboreans entered into a time of decadence and complacency and it was there that I began this discussion if you will recall. For it was into this age that I came to live as a member of the Kalaborean race. This was not all that strange, for there was a reason.
You see, after my exile from Eden and the time in which I dwelt with Lilith by the shores of the Red Sea my old body at that time had perished and my consciousness, spirit and soul found its' way into the body I would come to inhabit right up until the Great Deluge occurred after which the gods decided to make me mortal. As a Kalaborean I was extremely long-lived as were all El'vril... today, in this body I currently inhabit that (although it appears to be fully human on the outside) contains a peculiar mixture of human, El'vril, and Kolabi blood and DNA... I am no longer long-lived, for human blood dilutes the old bloods and makes one's lifespan much shorter. But back then, I had no human blood at all to dilute my lifespan and I lived a long life indeed at that point. I was no longer Samael, the lover of Lilith. She had died too, and been reborn, and she was now someone else in time's fateful turnings. We had both been incarnated into the same family, as an El'vril brother and sister. Though Lilith was my blood sister in that life, I had a deep passion and indescribable fondness for her, and she in turn for me. So now that the context has been explained for the memories I am about to relate, I can begin to tell you about that life. I did not remain in Kalaborea for the whole of that life... eventually, I left it and went wandering and that is how I came to end up encountering the Titans and the Archons of old and how we all ended up in bondage and servitude in Atlan, where I remained until that human nation met its' violent end.
Now, to speak of some of my memories regarding Lilith and I from our life in that ancient empire, and of the events that led up to my leaving that place and ending up coming to dwell in dark Atlan.
It was a warm summer afternoon, and I was walking through the pillared courtyards of the Imperial Palace which contained the opulent gardens that were tended in all their glory by the devoted slaves whose duty it was to maintain them. These slaves wore long green skirts and kept their heads shaved and adorned with leather circlets studded with gold spikes. Across their bare torsos, they wore sashes of thorny vines that pierced their skin and reminded them of their difficult duty to nature and also to the Imperial Gardens. You will likely find this custom shocking, which it was, and there will be many other things too you will find shocking about life in Kalaborea. It was not a place wholly of this world... it had one foot in Hell you might say, for in that place madness was art, and art was life (and death). The skies were blue and beautiful, and various pleasant insects such as dragonflies and ladybugs (fireflies at night) flitted betwixt and between the innumerable plants and flowers and trees of that place. I loved the gardens very much, and each day I made it my particular custom to walk among them and to take in their beauty. For such beauty inspired me! I myself was dressed reasonably for the weather, wearing a long diaphanous robe of gauzy peacock-colored fabric over a cotton underskirt of similar color. The robe was cinched at the waist with a simple green sash-like ribbon, and upon my head I wore a black beaded headdress over my pale blonde hair. I had been the very first El'vril to be born with that color and shade of hair since the early days when the Vril first created our race, and my fellow El'vril saw me as a bit of an outcast because of that, and because my body had various feminine traits and was weaker and more slender in frame than was the norm for El'vril men. I fit in better among the women, and so I more often courted their favor and kept their company. They were always more accepting of me than the men were, and I was grateful for their open-mindedness. The men were more disdainful, except for a few who were wiser. It was not the culture that made them disdainful, either, but a fear of unusual and alien things due to a paranoid distrust of outsiders. I was a good shade paler than all the people of that land, too, although not quite deathly so, and my eyes were blue whereas most other El'vril had brown or black eyes. At least one subspecies of El'vril even had peculiar green-colored eyes with yellow towards the middles, but even they were more numerous than the blue-eyed people who were said to be the left-overs from the old days of our origins. You see, hatred for the Vril was tremendous due to them having abandoned us to go off in their mad crusades of conquest... and never returning once they had set out.
Anything that even a tiny bit reminded people of the Vril was met with the same burning hatred. I was not alone though... I had some good friends, and my family was of the highest nobility with myself the next in line for the throne of the Empire itself. And of course, there was my devoted, beloved sister and it was she I came to the garden on that one singular day to meet with. My comfortable sandals crunched some twigs under my feet as I waited... I did not sit at the nearby benches for I was anxious, and when I felt anxious I never could just take things easy. I am like that still! The clouds were golden-hued in the afternoon, and as I waited I noticed the sky turning a deeper shade of blue that nearly reminded me of my own eyes save that the sky had less gray in it. In my left hand, I held a clear white crystal shard that I had oft used for magical rituals... for I was a fervent practitioner of magic and people oft called me a necromancer because I could see into the realms beyond this world and discern the forms of spiritual beings even whilst many others could not. It would be by that title, which the people of Atlan would one day come to fear me and yet also to revere me as a dark god... but on this day that moment was far off in my future. Almost like another life in a way... only it was not. It was my destiny, but long distant.
Within two hours time, a serving girl came to me and told me that my beloved sister would be joining me soon. She noticed I suffered from allergies, for even back then I was rather prone to such things, and she asked me if I was feeling well. I told her that I was, and cautioned her that once I was emperor she would have to bow low before speaking to me... rather than meeting me with her head held high as she did now. As a servant, she wore a collar around her neck decorated with silver spikes and a long thin metal chain that was decorative only and which symbolized her being bound in service to the nobility. I grabbed her chain and pulled her towards me, telling her that she was to keep me company until my sister arrived. She bowed her head and agreed, and we sat at one of the stone benches together. She gave me a small white cloth to wipe my eyes with, for they were watering, and she placed a hand upon my right thigh, asking if I had any other needs she could tend to. I told her there was none that my sister could not deal with upon her arrival, and we passed the time instead in a fair conversation regarding a shipment of spices and silks from some far-off corner of the Empire which had arrived by galley in the harbor district of the capital city. At one point, I asked her to tell me her name, and told me that she had none to give me. I learned that day, that all slaves and servants were denied names, for their lives were seen as fleeting and expendable compared to the lives of the nobility. “Why is this so?” I asked her, and she could not say. “It has always been so.” she simply said, smiling happily the whole time as if she simply accepted this as a fact of everyday life. Human slaves had far harsher fates, so at least I could not have need to fear for this girl overtly. I had something rare among the El'vril... I had something of a hint of compassion for others. More than a hint, actually, although I dared not speak of such things in the presence of certain individuals, lest they label me too much of an outsider and seek to destroy me.
Soon, I could hear a loud wailing and shrieking followed by singing all in perfectly harmonious tones. “She is here!” the servant girl exclaimed, standing up from the bench only long enough to drop to both knees, her hands held up in greeting for her mistress, my sister. And the singing came from a series of slaves who were led forward by their handlers... slaves castrated as children and conditioned each one to sing with angelic perfection. The Cy'bletari they were called. Those who did not do as was demanded of them, were prodded with sharp objects in order to get them to produce crueler shrieks and screams of a quality to match the singing voices of the others. The Cy'bletari all had universally worn long white garments of the thinnest cotton, and oft their blood and sweat had soaked those garments on through. Following this perverse display, a woman walked forward into the garden. It was she, the woman who in a previous existence had been called Lilith, and been feared by some as a manifestation of Death. In this culture, she was given free reign to give people cause to believe this about her. And also, about me.
Her appearance was as follows: her hair was jet black, the darkest black possible to occur naturally. And her skin was light but of a shade somewhat darker than my own flesh was. Her eyes were black as well, but with hints of violet in them and a bit of yellow towards the centers. Physically she was full-figured and her hair was long and wavy, held up in an elaborate coiffure by a golden circlet and a series of blood-red colored ribbons and bows. Even so, her hair reached the middle of her back and unbound it reached her upper thighs. She wore, upon this occasion, a red silk gown with a pleated skirt and white ruffles at the waist. The puffy sleeves were of a light, gauzy purple fabric and one could see her arms through them. Also about her waist was a golden sash tied into a large ribbon at her back. She wore her finest jewelry with earrings of white pearl and a gold nose ring, along with beaded bracelets decorated with precious stones. Like me, she wore sandals to walk about in. She was denied nothing she wanted.
“My dear, dear brother!” she exclaimed, rushing forward with her arms open warmly to welcome me. “I hope I did not keep you waiting overlong.” she said, a look of concern upon her sensuous face. “No, it was not overlong, and your servant here kept me company very reasonably, as is expected of her.” I explained. My sister looked relieved at that, and dismissed her entire retinue, Cy'bletari and all, so we could be alone together in the gardens. “Asra'ka”, she said, softly, speaking my name in her beautifully exotic voice with its' peculiar accent... “Our father, it appears, has died... finally succumbing to grief over having lost our mother in my birth.” I had expected to hear as much. Our mother had always been weakened enough already by giving first birth to me, and many said she should never have had another child. But in time, she wanted to try again... this time for a baby girl... and it was my sister's birth that proved to be too much for her body, for she died in bringing her second and last child into the world. Our father never recovered from her loss, and over time it was said he had gone mad from her passing, isolating himself in his study and seeing no one save for the occasional servant. “It was dear Iralia who found him dead. I feel so sorry for her.” my sister told me. “Iralia? She was too fragile to bear such a discovery the last I saw of her! How is she now?” I asked, and my sister elaborated, saying... “She is coping with it well, all things considered.” to which I added: “And considering all things being as they are!” to which she smiled a little. I asked her why she did so, and she told me that it was the way in which I said that which seemed to brighten her mood a bit. “Then I will always say it that way, just to make you smile!” I promised her, sincerely. For ever since then, I always have said it exactly that way which cheered her so. “Lira'taril...” I whispered aloud, saying my sister's name... “Am I yet expected to weep for our father?” And she told me honestly: “No. It would be just wholly unbecoming of the next emperor to do so... but if ever I should perish before you, I would want you to weep for me.” and that made my eyes tear up and my bottom lip quiver a bit. “Lira'taril, I... I could not live without you! You are my other half.” and she said to me: “You will never have to. I can promise you that much, for I am to be crowned empress at your side.” I smiled at that. Incest was not uncommon in the Empire and in fact it was a tradition among the most ancient Kalaboreans from the times in which our race was less numerous and more tightly knit. In our case, the old traditions were being brought back and honored.
“How soon will be the coronation ceremony, following father's cremation?” I then asked of Lira'taril. She told me: “Within the moth, I should honestly think. They will not wait long, for an empire without an emperor and an empress is not a strong one in the end... plus, there was no regent named to rule in the meantime. Father was far too secretive and too shut away towards the end for anyone to even have guessed at any final wishes he may have had in mind.” Upon the death of an emperor, a mostly week long period of city-wide mourning was enforced here in the capital... during which a celebration took place as the people partied hard to send the emperor's spirit upon its' way to meet the deified Lords of the Abyss in the realms beyond the living. Some took the notion of celebration just a little bit too far.
Some men and women during this time took each other openly in the streets, some in lust but some in mutual slaughter of each other. And no less than one hundred slaves of preferably a human stock were sacrificed in bloody rites to honor the terrible gods. The royal guards and their deputies ran through the streets during that time, and anyone not found celebrating to their utmost was thus whipped on the spot unless they were old, infirm and unable to participate in the wanton, cruel, and hedonistic proceedings. Only the imperial heirs themselves, and the various noble families, remained at the palace along with their own personal royal guards and all palace servants and slaves, and immediate retainers, family and relatives thereof. Close or otherwise. Only they... we... were exempt from participating in the brutal and horrific celebrations of that week. I remember still how Lira'taril and I passed that afternoon and early evening... she sitting upon the bench, and I lying upon it with my head upon her lap, looking up into her serenely smiling face. “You are so beautiful, I could look into your face forever and need to see nothing else, nor wish to.” I said to her, honestly and lovingly. She just smiled and kept on smiling and looking down at me. “I love you, brother. Beloved . My emperor!” she said at last, and to which I responded: “My empress. My divine, divine empress.” as I stroked her freckled cheek with my left hand. She took it in her hands and kissed it tenderly. That was a perfect memory from a day which otherwise should have perhaps been seen as a tragic one. But I never really fully understood our father at all, and his loss honestly did not affect me in the least. In all the world, only one thing did I truly love and that was my sister Lira'taril. To me, all was empty besides. May thought me selfish, but in truth I was far from that.
The day of our coronation, there was a tremendous and splendid ball, and all the lords and ladies of the nobility were there in full attendance. The Cy'bletari sang, along with much more willing musicians, and we all danced as the noble bards played their instruments along with the existing music. The two factions of the court, both the Summer El'vril and the Winter El'vril, were in their best and so brightest garments for the occasion. The cremation of our father had taken place extremely early into the week of celebrations and his passing had given way to the quick ascension of my sister and I to the throne of the Empire. The Imperial Throne was carved of solid stone, and upon it was draped cloths and furs of red and purple and gold, to make it comfortable... whilst set in the stone of the throne itself were countless sparkling gemstones of ruby, sapphire, topaz and jade. It was carved with arcane runes and inscriptions in El'vril script, otherwise. The chamber was circular in the middle, with square side chambers off of it that were separated only by rows of ornate columns decorated with images of entwining serpents that wrapped about the pillars from floor to ceiling. It was a grand chamber, the Great Hall of the Imperial Palace, and upon this day it saw its' final coronation celebration ever. I could not know that at the time though, and on that day I merely looked forward to continuing the dynasty into which I had been born, heedless of the senselessness of that endeavor. Lira'taril was dressed all in black on that day, as was I, for it was to be the final day of the official period of mourning for the previous emperor, with this ball the final celebration to be held in honor of his passing. I had been through our father's study on and off all that week, and I had studied much of the old lore he hid from others... sharing what I learned of only with my beloved sister and with no one else. We danced without any care that day, with utter and sheer abandon. Lira'taril's face was practically glowing as she laughed and giggled as she spun about on her graceful toes. To see an El'vril woman dance... there can be no words to describe the beauty I beheld of her in those hours. I could not hope to match her grace, but I danced with her no less fervently and with no less zeal. Already I could hear people in the court whispering, calling me by the frightful title “The Necromancer King” and I merely shrugged it off without a care. They would soon all have to bow to my will anyway, so there was no point in worrying over foolish jests on the part of fearful nobles who mocked what their small minds could not comprehend. When all was said and done, the high priests and priestesses of the gods arrived to deliver the imperial crown into my eager keeping. I was anxious!
Everyone backed away as these black cloaked and hooded men and women made their way through the gathered crowds, in a straight path from the palace doors up to the dais on which loomed the great throne, which was large enough to seat two – the emperor and the empress. My sister and I. It was a long and involved ceremony, all in all... the gods were named each by their true names, as were all the nature lords and ladies and every other divinity revered by our people. Each was asked to look over, to watch and to protect, and to guide me in my reign over the Empire. Then, twenty slaves were herded into a circle in the center of the Great Hall, where upon the floor was carved and painted very long ago the image of a blood-red star with many arrows, each ending in a point at which there was a circle that itself contained a pentagram. Each circle represented one of the Lords of the Abyss. The slaves were sacrificed very bloodily and coldly upon that image, after being bound there with heavy chains and shackles and ropes. One of them, had been the girl who had spent time with me in the garden, and at that I rose from where I sat upon the throne at my sister's side and said loudly: “Stop! Enough!” And everyone froze in whatsoever they did. I pointed to that slave, who lay there wounded unto death in pools of her own blood, and I shouted: “I was very fond of her! She was an innocent soul, and had no need to die in this way, merely to propitiate an ages old custom born solely of tradition. What use is there in crowning me emperor of this nation, if you do not allow me to change things as I see fit? And at the moment, I want this particular sacrifice to be stopped, never again to take place.” and the High Priest stepped forward and exclaimed: “We do not do this for the Emperor's wishes, and we cannot stop it no matter his wishes... we do this for the gods, and it is the gods who so command it.” and I walked towards the priest, meeting his gaze. I spat at him and then said: “There are gods far older... than those you serve... and I serve them willingly. The God of the Blackblood Stone is one such god... and would you defy him, merely out of loyalty to those who are but his juniors in the divine orders of things? The God of the Blackblood Stone commands through me that this sacrifice be disbanded forever. Lest he be made to rise up, in anger!” And hearing me mention that ancient and forbidden deity, the High Priest gasped and grew pale, ordering the slaves to be taken away, those who were left not slain. The girl I had been fond of died on the spot despite all this, but at my command this very horrible tradition had at last been made to cease. I then pointed to the priest who had killed her, and shouted: “Now, the God of the Blackblood Stone demands that man's blood... and with it his soul... in order to pay for the disbanding of the other sacrifices upon this great and holy day!” And the High Priest, who was unwilling to risk further humiliation, ordered the deed be done and done quickly. The other priest's throat was cut and his back pierced with countless spears. “Let the gods receive henceforth, only blood that is not wasted. For blood wasted, is no fit sacrifice to any god!” I proclaimed, and my word on that day was law. Lira'taril smiled broadly, and said to me: “At first, I wondered if you would turn out to be fit to rule when you let out that almost... human... outburst, but I must agree with you that the sacrifice of slaves has become far too boring. It is so much more entertaining and delicious to see something different once in a while in this old and all-too decadent empire of ours!” and her face had the innocent glow of a child to it. “Will you miss her?” I asked my sister. “The slave you were fond of? I suppose I will, actually... but I could not stand in the way of tradition, not as you did.” And it was to be the first of many changes, before the end came for our mad empire. I had not the will to deny the hand of destiny in this matter. I savored it!
I had participated in several terrible battles and petty wars following my coronation, mostly against neighboring Pahan'gatab and a bit less commonly against various naval vessels from Atllan that made their way in expeditionary forces to our shores. During several such battles I was forced to oversee the torture of prisoners for information about their masters' plans and why their ships should be venturing so close to the shores of a nation that they should regard as their better. I do not like to speak of torture casually... but this is what I witnessed on one occasion. It was required of me to do certain awful things.
Just to give you an idea of the sort of “evil” society I was born into in that life, I shall say on. Were we evil truly, though? I cannot say and I do not know any longer... but what we did, was most certainly inhuman more oft than not. Eight people were captured one day: four men, and four woman, and they were brought back to the capital city in thick chains. I led them to the dungeons in the company of ten armed guards, and there the chief torturers all looked them over. “Remove their clothes.” they began. “Animals do not need clothing!” said the lead torturer... and his voice was very high-pitched and cruel sounding. He wore a long black skirt but his chest was bare save for two black barbed nipple rings from which chains hung one side across to the other. His head was shaven save for a black ponytail and he wore black lip and eye makeup that accentuated his otherwise cadaverous, almost skeletal appearance. His arms were muscular but his hands long and his fingers thin and spindly. He looked over a large assortment of sharp implements of torture on ten tables before him, before selecting something that he found useful. He then walked over to the first male prisoner, who was bound to a wooden stake over a circular bed of hot coals that burned his feet black and pained him very awfully. One of the women was suspended next to him by her hair, over a much hotter fire that was designed not to burn her... but to make her feel afraid that it may rage up and do so at any time. The torturer addressed the man, saying in a very hateful voice: “Your ancestors... on other worlds and in other realms of existence... hunted our ancestors and slaughtered us wheresoever they could find us. Our ancestors vowed never to run again, for yours forced ours to run once... and so here we are with you at our mercy and the hunters become the hunted. This is not personal, what I do next... it is karmic justice!” And I was seated in the torture chamber watching all of this, for such was my duty as emperor to oversee the extraction of information from captured enemies. The torturer made countless cuts into the man's flesh, each precise and enough to elicit a scream but not to kill. He flayed one of the man's hands after unchaining it, cutting all of the tendons of the man's arm to render it useless. The blood was collected, and put in jars and bottles of glass with cork stoppers. He cut off one of the man's feet, and removed one of the man's eyes, mashing it into jelly in the process. Into the socket, he thrust a hot poker and filled in the wound with black tar. He cut the man's long hair off, none too gently and quite bloodily, and when still the man refused to talk he took a hot knife and cut off the man's testicles which he then fed to his pet wolf that he kept in a pen nearby. That male prisoner said only one word: “Die!” before passing out from his blood loss. The woman was treated no better, losing one of her breasts and having a hot poker thrust into her genitalia during the course of her torture. Deciding that she knew nothing after all, the torturer had cut her hair, letting her fall into the fire to burn to death slowly before fishing her out in her final moments to feed her to the wolf. The male prisoner then broke down and told all that he knew, and the long and the short of it was this: it was deemed that the Empire had grown so complacent and shrunk in its' territories so much, that many said should the capital city fall the whole of it was sure to collapse. Thus, navies were being launched and sent to achieve that end. I felt bored watching this gruesome but otherwise trivial spectacle, and it was then that I realized that this Empire was itself a sinking ship that with time would go under. I did not plan to be on it when it did sink. But neither did I wish to see it wholly forgotten!
At length, I discovered that a cabal of rivals were plotting against me... my own people... who held the view that me having compassion for that female slave made me less noble when in comparison to “nobler” emperors of the past. It was then that I started making plans to leave and to take my sister with me so that we could start over elsewhere. Within the next part I will be detailing the fruit that was born from those plans, and how in the end all things were changed but not in the ways that anyone expected. I began to study increasingly darker and more... twisted... black magic rituals during that time in which I had set my mind to leaving Kalaborea. Perhaps a part of me had already been tainted by these people, but in order to save what good lay within me, and within my sister... I had to study, even works of evil.
For over one thousand years, the Hyperborean Empire had existed and thence slowly declined as its' brightness darkened and its' people became decadent but not yet complacent. That would come swiftly enough in its' own time. They were aware of their fall from grace, of their lofty nation's fall from power and importance, and they were of a mindset that should all fall into chaos then they as a people would... as a whole... leap into that chaos with a mad gleam in their eyes, heedless of all the consequences of that impulsive leap. There were islands in the Atlantic, Pacific, and Indian oceans that no longer exist today... and continents such as Atlantis, Lemuria, and Mu. They were not called by those names by the peoples who lived there though... those names were inventions of historians and scholars in later history who sought to name these places which the ancients knew in such very different capacities entirely. The ancient Egyptians were the first to use the name Atlantis, some scholars claim, and thence taught it to the Greeks. But in truth, the Atlanteans themselves called their continent simply by the name of “Atlan” from which the later name Atlantis would one day derive. Lemuria was not called such even remotely... it was known by the name “Pahan'gatab” and where Atlan represented a stagnant form of order that was enforced through fear and terror, and a kind of technocracy... Pahan'gatab was given to a kind of chaos and madness that were characteristic of that continent due to the legendary insanity of its' inhabitants.
You see... humans for the most part dwelt in Atlan, at first somewhat rather savage and wild peoples of a more primitive sort than would come later. Warlike barbarians, for lack of a better term, who were over time taught the arts of civilization by the gods until at length they became quite civilized indeed. The old Titans gave them technology, and they used it to better themselves until the final days of their civilization when madness overtook them at last and they stole forbidden secrets from the gods which led to the gods responding by authoring their destruction with the aid of its' last and final Queen. But the history of Pahan'gatab was very different by far! The primitive peoples of Atlan were descendants of survivors from Mars (a planet known as Nergalia to the people who actually once lived there), and refugees from the lost colony of Eden and other colonies where the gods had kept humans in servitude. In contrast, the people of Pahan'gatab had a more developed and sophisticated civilization at least in the beginning. They were descended from survivors of lost Rahab and among them thus lived the reptilian people who were the most remote and ancient ancestors of the race known as the El'vril (whom you, dear reader, would call by the term Elven and associate with attractive beings form myth, legend, and tales of fantasy). There was trade and peace between the humans and the Kolabi, as the reptilians called themselves... a name which derived from an old name for the planet Ra'qia: Kolob, which was the same world as was known by the name of Kobol... and a great civilization was raised upon an island far to the south and west of Panhan'gatab which bore the ancient name of Rylian'koren'ja which the ancient Sumerians and Babylonians recorded as Ry'lia and it was the domain of the great Kolabi priest-king Ku'tulu who was the emissary of the Lords of the Abyss in those times. The Lords of the Abyss were fallen Lost Lords of Ra'qia, a group of dark magic-practicing nobles who had sided with the Titans of old and fell from grace, going willingly into exile in the times before mankind existed upon Earth. They held that Chaos was the noblest of all principles and their advanced philosophies regarding it became the basis for my own beliefs regarding Chaos as a creative, rather than a purely destructive, principle.
It was in the time of old Ry'lia that there was a split in Pahan'gatab as the old human aristocracy grew jealous and bitter of their Kolabi allies... seeing the growing power of the Kolabi, they then feared the reptilian race would soon conquer them, and so they kicked out the Kolabi from their continent after learning their secrets. Secrets they thought nothing of prying from the source by means of tortures that inflicted pain on the soul and spirit as much as upon the physical body. It was a dark and vicious time!
Following that, Pahan'gatab isolated itself from the rest of the world and turned its' attention to the refinement of dark sorcery and forbidden technologies of alien origins. This would one day draw the attention of the gods and in the same cataclysm that wiped out Atlan... Pahan'gatab perished identically as its' unholy priest-kings pushed it past madness into an apocalyptic end which could not be undone. Ry'lia also perished in that cataclysm, along with the continent known to historians today as Mu, for the gods were as fearful of the Kolabi's advanced technology as they had been wrathful at the misuse of the technologies of Atlan and Pahan'gatab. Mu was known in those times by the name of “Dilmun” and the people of Sumeria and Babylonia believed it to have been a veritable paradise upon Earth. It was the continent on which the gods lived back then, along with selected humans who served them faithfully... it was kept isolated from the rest of the world, and the only reason the gods destroyed it was because they wanted to insure that their own private technologies and secrets would never fall into human hands even by accident. It was after that, that the gods retreated to their great craft, the Olympias Novasi, and kept themselves forever apart from the doings of humanity thenceforth. But for a brief time, the empire of Hyperborea united all of these lands and kingdoms, and what I will tell you of now is the rise and fall of that great Emprie. Like all empires, it did not begin simply but rather over time it grew by degrees until it reached a point at which it could not be ignored. Most were content to pretend not to notice this.
It was in the times before the gods decided to enact the cataclysm and purge that history would call “The Great Deluge”, when Atlan and Pahan'gatab were in the latter years of their existence and when Ry'lia had just started to gain its' reputation as a lost and forbidden realm. The ancient Vril race from the Aldebaran star system, in alliance with the Lords of the Abyss, had conducted various experiments upon the Kolabi of Ry'lia and the end result of these genetic and evolutionary experiments was the race known as the El'vril. The El'vril had the blood of the Vril mixed with the blood of the Kolabi in their veins, and physically they were very different from both of their parent races. In height, the El'vril had ranged from 5'4 to 5'8 but never beyond 5'8. The tallest among them oft reached 5'9, but that was rare. They were fair and smooth of skin, exactly like the Vril, but with black hair instead of platinum blonde, almond-shaped eyes and tapered (in some cases outright pointed) ears. They were refined, aristocratic, and had the Vril's arrogant belief that they were created and destined to be the world's masters above all other peoples or races upon the planet. The Vril taught them this arrogance and this refinement... and the Kolabi taught them a penchant for casual cruelty that bordered sometimes as bloodthirsty sadism towards their enemies (and sometimes sadomasochism towards themselves). Twisted, dark lessons!
During the early periods when the various human kingdoms were just rising in power, the ancient and forgotten Vril and the El'vril were plotting to amass their own rise of sorts. For long before humanity's empires arose, the Vril and the El'vril lived beneath the Earth in a hidden place known as Agartha and there grew strong and mighty and so much so... that the gods treated them as their equals, even allowing them to journey freely to and from Dilmun as it pleased them. Then, at some unknown point, humans made contact with the Vril and the El'vril, and together they established the nation of Hyperborea in the cold and northern reaches of what would one day become the European continent. And from there, they conquered much of the world and the peoples of Atlan and Pahan'gatab willingly paid them and their rulers their due tribute. Those who resisted were delivered unto fates unspeakable, and so dark was the reputation of Hyperborea that people called it the “Forbidden Empire” just like the inhuman empire of the Ancient Ones that existed before the gods settled their colonies upon the Earth (which was ruled prior by things of which none may speak or know aught of save in nightmarish whispers). I had been witness to the savagery of that primordial domain, and knew enough of its' darkness to be certain never to court its' ire. But for the most part the Ancient Ones kept to their own devices unless made wrathful.
There was an island in the middle of the southern Pacific ocean, somewhere between Pahan'gatab and storied Ry'lia, and it was there the Hyperboreans made their southern capital, at one point abandoning their former northern capital solely to those humans that first banded with the Vril and the El'vril to so form the Hyperboean nation in its' infancy. The humans of Old Hyperboea, as the northern realm was by this point called, shared their realm with the noble Aesiri warrior gods and the secondary empire of Old Hyperborea continued until the mysterious event known as the Hyperborean Ragnarok took place in which the central technological power source of Old Hyperborea, the techno-organic Yggdrasil, was destroyed, resulting in a rather singular catastrophe that spelled the end of that civilization. You see, the Yggdrasil was based in Antarctica which back then was not yet covered in ice and snow. It was from there, and from places in both the north and south poles (which contain secret entrances into and from Agartha) that the Vril first emerged unto the surface of the world. The Yggdrasil provided power to two smaller power stations – one in northern Europe and one at an undisclosed southern location possibly in the city of Kor'nugala in the African continent. In the very moment that the Yggdrasil was destroyed, it caused a great atmospheric disturbance that resulted thereafter in Antarctica freezing over and the other two power stations failing. When they had failed, so too did the technologies of the civilizations that depended upon them. Hence the collapse of Old Hyperborea. In the wake of that apocalyptic happening, the people of New Hyperborea became more aggressive and warlike than ever they had been before... and from their southern Pacific island home they launched new efforts to establish dominance over the human nations around them whilst the El'vril renewed their ties to the Kolabi of Ry'lia and made pacts with the Lords of the Abyss and other powers both natural and supernatural in nature. Eventually, the Vril themselves left New Hyperboea in order to wholesale invade the human realms, and during the course of that disastrous invasion the humans of Atlan and Pahan'gatab banded together to defeat them in the end. The Hyperborean Empire thereupon collapsed as the Vril retreated back to Agartha... leaving the El'vril to fend for themselves. But the El'vril had grown immensely powerful in that time, and with the aid of the Lords of the Abyss they conquered mostly all that the Vril had not, for the humans were weakened at that time from their efforts to drive off the Vril peoples once and for all. Thus was born a new Hyperborean Empire which the El'vril called the Kalaborean Empire. For Hyperborea was a name that had meant “Beyond the North Wind” and now this new empire reigned solely in the south of the Earth. Thus, Kalaborea was the name thereafter used, for it meant “Upon the South Wind” for thus had been the new empire established by the “Elven” peoples. During its' greatest heights of glory... it was called “The Empire of the Blessed”, and humans grew to fear, hate and despise their El'vril overlords far more than ever they had the Vril before them. As the Empire of the Blessed rose in power so too did the civilization of the Kolabi in Ry'lia decline as the reptilian peoples there degenerated into savagery and barbarism whilst their ruler Ku'tulu fell into a dreamless sleep (likely a coma brought on by some disease or another) from which he never woke and died. They kept a shrine to him, the Kolabi did, and offered their dead deified ruler sacrifices of blood and lives both human and animal in origin but sadly Ku'tulu never again awoke and his remains were interred in a great city which became lost over time.
Eventually, Ku'tulu's remains were taken by the Vril in secret to Agartha and no human eye had ever laid eyes upon them again. This was all the origin of the long-forbidden Sumerian belief that one day, with enough sacrifices, Ku'tulu would rise again from his “slumber” and thence give power to those who awakened him. It was a false belief that had its' origins in the savage superstitions of the declining Kolabi race. Having existed now for over one thousand years... the empire which had begun with the Hyperboreans and which was now carried on by the Kalaboreans entered into a time of decadence and complacency and it was there that I began this discussion if you will recall. For it was into this age that I came to live as a member of the Kalaborean race. This was not all that strange, for there was a reason.
You see, after my exile from Eden and the time in which I dwelt with Lilith by the shores of the Red Sea my old body at that time had perished and my consciousness, spirit and soul found its' way into the body I would come to inhabit right up until the Great Deluge occurred after which the gods decided to make me mortal. As a Kalaborean I was extremely long-lived as were all El'vril... today, in this body I currently inhabit that (although it appears to be fully human on the outside) contains a peculiar mixture of human, El'vril, and Kolabi blood and DNA... I am no longer long-lived, for human blood dilutes the old bloods and makes one's lifespan much shorter. But back then, I had no human blood at all to dilute my lifespan and I lived a long life indeed at that point. I was no longer Samael, the lover of Lilith. She had died too, and been reborn, and she was now someone else in time's fateful turnings. We had both been incarnated into the same family, as an El'vril brother and sister. Though Lilith was my blood sister in that life, I had a deep passion and indescribable fondness for her, and she in turn for me. So now that the context has been explained for the memories I am about to relate, I can begin to tell you about that life. I did not remain in Kalaborea for the whole of that life... eventually, I left it and went wandering and that is how I came to end up encountering the Titans and the Archons of old and how we all ended up in bondage and servitude in Atlan, where I remained until that human nation met its' violent end.
Now, to speak of some of my memories regarding Lilith and I from our life in that ancient empire, and of the events that led up to my leaving that place and ending up coming to dwell in dark Atlan.
It was a warm summer afternoon, and I was walking through the pillared courtyards of the Imperial Palace which contained the opulent gardens that were tended in all their glory by the devoted slaves whose duty it was to maintain them. These slaves wore long green skirts and kept their heads shaved and adorned with leather circlets studded with gold spikes. Across their bare torsos, they wore sashes of thorny vines that pierced their skin and reminded them of their difficult duty to nature and also to the Imperial Gardens. You will likely find this custom shocking, which it was, and there will be many other things too you will find shocking about life in Kalaborea. It was not a place wholly of this world... it had one foot in Hell you might say, for in that place madness was art, and art was life (and death). The skies were blue and beautiful, and various pleasant insects such as dragonflies and ladybugs (fireflies at night) flitted betwixt and between the innumerable plants and flowers and trees of that place. I loved the gardens very much, and each day I made it my particular custom to walk among them and to take in their beauty. For such beauty inspired me! I myself was dressed reasonably for the weather, wearing a long diaphanous robe of gauzy peacock-colored fabric over a cotton underskirt of similar color. The robe was cinched at the waist with a simple green sash-like ribbon, and upon my head I wore a black beaded headdress over my pale blonde hair. I had been the very first El'vril to be born with that color and shade of hair since the early days when the Vril first created our race, and my fellow El'vril saw me as a bit of an outcast because of that, and because my body had various feminine traits and was weaker and more slender in frame than was the norm for El'vril men. I fit in better among the women, and so I more often courted their favor and kept their company. They were always more accepting of me than the men were, and I was grateful for their open-mindedness. The men were more disdainful, except for a few who were wiser. It was not the culture that made them disdainful, either, but a fear of unusual and alien things due to a paranoid distrust of outsiders. I was a good shade paler than all the people of that land, too, although not quite deathly so, and my eyes were blue whereas most other El'vril had brown or black eyes. At least one subspecies of El'vril even had peculiar green-colored eyes with yellow towards the middles, but even they were more numerous than the blue-eyed people who were said to be the left-overs from the old days of our origins. You see, hatred for the Vril was tremendous due to them having abandoned us to go off in their mad crusades of conquest... and never returning once they had set out.
Anything that even a tiny bit reminded people of the Vril was met with the same burning hatred. I was not alone though... I had some good friends, and my family was of the highest nobility with myself the next in line for the throne of the Empire itself. And of course, there was my devoted, beloved sister and it was she I came to the garden on that one singular day to meet with. My comfortable sandals crunched some twigs under my feet as I waited... I did not sit at the nearby benches for I was anxious, and when I felt anxious I never could just take things easy. I am like that still! The clouds were golden-hued in the afternoon, and as I waited I noticed the sky turning a deeper shade of blue that nearly reminded me of my own eyes save that the sky had less gray in it. In my left hand, I held a clear white crystal shard that I had oft used for magical rituals... for I was a fervent practitioner of magic and people oft called me a necromancer because I could see into the realms beyond this world and discern the forms of spiritual beings even whilst many others could not. It would be by that title, which the people of Atlan would one day come to fear me and yet also to revere me as a dark god... but on this day that moment was far off in my future. Almost like another life in a way... only it was not. It was my destiny, but long distant.
Within two hours time, a serving girl came to me and told me that my beloved sister would be joining me soon. She noticed I suffered from allergies, for even back then I was rather prone to such things, and she asked me if I was feeling well. I told her that I was, and cautioned her that once I was emperor she would have to bow low before speaking to me... rather than meeting me with her head held high as she did now. As a servant, she wore a collar around her neck decorated with silver spikes and a long thin metal chain that was decorative only and which symbolized her being bound in service to the nobility. I grabbed her chain and pulled her towards me, telling her that she was to keep me company until my sister arrived. She bowed her head and agreed, and we sat at one of the stone benches together. She gave me a small white cloth to wipe my eyes with, for they were watering, and she placed a hand upon my right thigh, asking if I had any other needs she could tend to. I told her there was none that my sister could not deal with upon her arrival, and we passed the time instead in a fair conversation regarding a shipment of spices and silks from some far-off corner of the Empire which had arrived by galley in the harbor district of the capital city. At one point, I asked her to tell me her name, and told me that she had none to give me. I learned that day, that all slaves and servants were denied names, for their lives were seen as fleeting and expendable compared to the lives of the nobility. “Why is this so?” I asked her, and she could not say. “It has always been so.” she simply said, smiling happily the whole time as if she simply accepted this as a fact of everyday life. Human slaves had far harsher fates, so at least I could not have need to fear for this girl overtly. I had something rare among the El'vril... I had something of a hint of compassion for others. More than a hint, actually, although I dared not speak of such things in the presence of certain individuals, lest they label me too much of an outsider and seek to destroy me.
Soon, I could hear a loud wailing and shrieking followed by singing all in perfectly harmonious tones. “She is here!” the servant girl exclaimed, standing up from the bench only long enough to drop to both knees, her hands held up in greeting for her mistress, my sister. And the singing came from a series of slaves who were led forward by their handlers... slaves castrated as children and conditioned each one to sing with angelic perfection. The Cy'bletari they were called. Those who did not do as was demanded of them, were prodded with sharp objects in order to get them to produce crueler shrieks and screams of a quality to match the singing voices of the others. The Cy'bletari all had universally worn long white garments of the thinnest cotton, and oft their blood and sweat had soaked those garments on through. Following this perverse display, a woman walked forward into the garden. It was she, the woman who in a previous existence had been called Lilith, and been feared by some as a manifestation of Death. In this culture, she was given free reign to give people cause to believe this about her. And also, about me.
Her appearance was as follows: her hair was jet black, the darkest black possible to occur naturally. And her skin was light but of a shade somewhat darker than my own flesh was. Her eyes were black as well, but with hints of violet in them and a bit of yellow towards the centers. Physically she was full-figured and her hair was long and wavy, held up in an elaborate coiffure by a golden circlet and a series of blood-red colored ribbons and bows. Even so, her hair reached the middle of her back and unbound it reached her upper thighs. She wore, upon this occasion, a red silk gown with a pleated skirt and white ruffles at the waist. The puffy sleeves were of a light, gauzy purple fabric and one could see her arms through them. Also about her waist was a golden sash tied into a large ribbon at her back. She wore her finest jewelry with earrings of white pearl and a gold nose ring, along with beaded bracelets decorated with precious stones. Like me, she wore sandals to walk about in. She was denied nothing she wanted.
“My dear, dear brother!” she exclaimed, rushing forward with her arms open warmly to welcome me. “I hope I did not keep you waiting overlong.” she said, a look of concern upon her sensuous face. “No, it was not overlong, and your servant here kept me company very reasonably, as is expected of her.” I explained. My sister looked relieved at that, and dismissed her entire retinue, Cy'bletari and all, so we could be alone together in the gardens. “Asra'ka”, she said, softly, speaking my name in her beautifully exotic voice with its' peculiar accent... “Our father, it appears, has died... finally succumbing to grief over having lost our mother in my birth.” I had expected to hear as much. Our mother had always been weakened enough already by giving first birth to me, and many said she should never have had another child. But in time, she wanted to try again... this time for a baby girl... and it was my sister's birth that proved to be too much for her body, for she died in bringing her second and last child into the world. Our father never recovered from her loss, and over time it was said he had gone mad from her passing, isolating himself in his study and seeing no one save for the occasional servant. “It was dear Iralia who found him dead. I feel so sorry for her.” my sister told me. “Iralia? She was too fragile to bear such a discovery the last I saw of her! How is she now?” I asked, and my sister elaborated, saying... “She is coping with it well, all things considered.” to which I added: “And considering all things being as they are!” to which she smiled a little. I asked her why she did so, and she told me that it was the way in which I said that which seemed to brighten her mood a bit. “Then I will always say it that way, just to make you smile!” I promised her, sincerely. For ever since then, I always have said it exactly that way which cheered her so. “Lira'taril...” I whispered aloud, saying my sister's name... “Am I yet expected to weep for our father?” And she told me honestly: “No. It would be just wholly unbecoming of the next emperor to do so... but if ever I should perish before you, I would want you to weep for me.” and that made my eyes tear up and my bottom lip quiver a bit. “Lira'taril, I... I could not live without you! You are my other half.” and she said to me: “You will never have to. I can promise you that much, for I am to be crowned empress at your side.” I smiled at that. Incest was not uncommon in the Empire and in fact it was a tradition among the most ancient Kalaboreans from the times in which our race was less numerous and more tightly knit. In our case, the old traditions were being brought back and honored.
“How soon will be the coronation ceremony, following father's cremation?” I then asked of Lira'taril. She told me: “Within the moth, I should honestly think. They will not wait long, for an empire without an emperor and an empress is not a strong one in the end... plus, there was no regent named to rule in the meantime. Father was far too secretive and too shut away towards the end for anyone to even have guessed at any final wishes he may have had in mind.” Upon the death of an emperor, a mostly week long period of city-wide mourning was enforced here in the capital... during which a celebration took place as the people partied hard to send the emperor's spirit upon its' way to meet the deified Lords of the Abyss in the realms beyond the living. Some took the notion of celebration just a little bit too far.
Some men and women during this time took each other openly in the streets, some in lust but some in mutual slaughter of each other. And no less than one hundred slaves of preferably a human stock were sacrificed in bloody rites to honor the terrible gods. The royal guards and their deputies ran through the streets during that time, and anyone not found celebrating to their utmost was thus whipped on the spot unless they were old, infirm and unable to participate in the wanton, cruel, and hedonistic proceedings. Only the imperial heirs themselves, and the various noble families, remained at the palace along with their own personal royal guards and all palace servants and slaves, and immediate retainers, family and relatives thereof. Close or otherwise. Only they... we... were exempt from participating in the brutal and horrific celebrations of that week. I remember still how Lira'taril and I passed that afternoon and early evening... she sitting upon the bench, and I lying upon it with my head upon her lap, looking up into her serenely smiling face. “You are so beautiful, I could look into your face forever and need to see nothing else, nor wish to.” I said to her, honestly and lovingly. She just smiled and kept on smiling and looking down at me. “I love you, brother. Beloved . My emperor!” she said at last, and to which I responded: “My empress. My divine, divine empress.” as I stroked her freckled cheek with my left hand. She took it in her hands and kissed it tenderly. That was a perfect memory from a day which otherwise should have perhaps been seen as a tragic one. But I never really fully understood our father at all, and his loss honestly did not affect me in the least. In all the world, only one thing did I truly love and that was my sister Lira'taril. To me, all was empty besides. May thought me selfish, but in truth I was far from that.
The day of our coronation, there was a tremendous and splendid ball, and all the lords and ladies of the nobility were there in full attendance. The Cy'bletari sang, along with much more willing musicians, and we all danced as the noble bards played their instruments along with the existing music. The two factions of the court, both the Summer El'vril and the Winter El'vril, were in their best and so brightest garments for the occasion. The cremation of our father had taken place extremely early into the week of celebrations and his passing had given way to the quick ascension of my sister and I to the throne of the Empire. The Imperial Throne was carved of solid stone, and upon it was draped cloths and furs of red and purple and gold, to make it comfortable... whilst set in the stone of the throne itself were countless sparkling gemstones of ruby, sapphire, topaz and jade. It was carved with arcane runes and inscriptions in El'vril script, otherwise. The chamber was circular in the middle, with square side chambers off of it that were separated only by rows of ornate columns decorated with images of entwining serpents that wrapped about the pillars from floor to ceiling. It was a grand chamber, the Great Hall of the Imperial Palace, and upon this day it saw its' final coronation celebration ever. I could not know that at the time though, and on that day I merely looked forward to continuing the dynasty into which I had been born, heedless of the senselessness of that endeavor. Lira'taril was dressed all in black on that day, as was I, for it was to be the final day of the official period of mourning for the previous emperor, with this ball the final celebration to be held in honor of his passing. I had been through our father's study on and off all that week, and I had studied much of the old lore he hid from others... sharing what I learned of only with my beloved sister and with no one else. We danced without any care that day, with utter and sheer abandon. Lira'taril's face was practically glowing as she laughed and giggled as she spun about on her graceful toes. To see an El'vril woman dance... there can be no words to describe the beauty I beheld of her in those hours. I could not hope to match her grace, but I danced with her no less fervently and with no less zeal. Already I could hear people in the court whispering, calling me by the frightful title “The Necromancer King” and I merely shrugged it off without a care. They would soon all have to bow to my will anyway, so there was no point in worrying over foolish jests on the part of fearful nobles who mocked what their small minds could not comprehend. When all was said and done, the high priests and priestesses of the gods arrived to deliver the imperial crown into my eager keeping. I was anxious!
Everyone backed away as these black cloaked and hooded men and women made their way through the gathered crowds, in a straight path from the palace doors up to the dais on which loomed the great throne, which was large enough to seat two – the emperor and the empress. My sister and I. It was a long and involved ceremony, all in all... the gods were named each by their true names, as were all the nature lords and ladies and every other divinity revered by our people. Each was asked to look over, to watch and to protect, and to guide me in my reign over the Empire. Then, twenty slaves were herded into a circle in the center of the Great Hall, where upon the floor was carved and painted very long ago the image of a blood-red star with many arrows, each ending in a point at which there was a circle that itself contained a pentagram. Each circle represented one of the Lords of the Abyss. The slaves were sacrificed very bloodily and coldly upon that image, after being bound there with heavy chains and shackles and ropes. One of them, had been the girl who had spent time with me in the garden, and at that I rose from where I sat upon the throne at my sister's side and said loudly: “Stop! Enough!” And everyone froze in whatsoever they did. I pointed to that slave, who lay there wounded unto death in pools of her own blood, and I shouted: “I was very fond of her! She was an innocent soul, and had no need to die in this way, merely to propitiate an ages old custom born solely of tradition. What use is there in crowning me emperor of this nation, if you do not allow me to change things as I see fit? And at the moment, I want this particular sacrifice to be stopped, never again to take place.” and the High Priest stepped forward and exclaimed: “We do not do this for the Emperor's wishes, and we cannot stop it no matter his wishes... we do this for the gods, and it is the gods who so command it.” and I walked towards the priest, meeting his gaze. I spat at him and then said: “There are gods far older... than those you serve... and I serve them willingly. The God of the Blackblood Stone is one such god... and would you defy him, merely out of loyalty to those who are but his juniors in the divine orders of things? The God of the Blackblood Stone commands through me that this sacrifice be disbanded forever. Lest he be made to rise up, in anger!” And hearing me mention that ancient and forbidden deity, the High Priest gasped and grew pale, ordering the slaves to be taken away, those who were left not slain. The girl I had been fond of died on the spot despite all this, but at my command this very horrible tradition had at last been made to cease. I then pointed to the priest who had killed her, and shouted: “Now, the God of the Blackblood Stone demands that man's blood... and with it his soul... in order to pay for the disbanding of the other sacrifices upon this great and holy day!” And the High Priest, who was unwilling to risk further humiliation, ordered the deed be done and done quickly. The other priest's throat was cut and his back pierced with countless spears. “Let the gods receive henceforth, only blood that is not wasted. For blood wasted, is no fit sacrifice to any god!” I proclaimed, and my word on that day was law. Lira'taril smiled broadly, and said to me: “At first, I wondered if you would turn out to be fit to rule when you let out that almost... human... outburst, but I must agree with you that the sacrifice of slaves has become far too boring. It is so much more entertaining and delicious to see something different once in a while in this old and all-too decadent empire of ours!” and her face had the innocent glow of a child to it. “Will you miss her?” I asked my sister. “The slave you were fond of? I suppose I will, actually... but I could not stand in the way of tradition, not as you did.” And it was to be the first of many changes, before the end came for our mad empire. I had not the will to deny the hand of destiny in this matter. I savored it!
I had participated in several terrible battles and petty wars following my coronation, mostly against neighboring Pahan'gatab and a bit less commonly against various naval vessels from Atllan that made their way in expeditionary forces to our shores. During several such battles I was forced to oversee the torture of prisoners for information about their masters' plans and why their ships should be venturing so close to the shores of a nation that they should regard as their better. I do not like to speak of torture casually... but this is what I witnessed on one occasion. It was required of me to do certain awful things.
Just to give you an idea of the sort of “evil” society I was born into in that life, I shall say on. Were we evil truly, though? I cannot say and I do not know any longer... but what we did, was most certainly inhuman more oft than not. Eight people were captured one day: four men, and four woman, and they were brought back to the capital city in thick chains. I led them to the dungeons in the company of ten armed guards, and there the chief torturers all looked them over. “Remove their clothes.” they began. “Animals do not need clothing!” said the lead torturer... and his voice was very high-pitched and cruel sounding. He wore a long black skirt but his chest was bare save for two black barbed nipple rings from which chains hung one side across to the other. His head was shaven save for a black ponytail and he wore black lip and eye makeup that accentuated his otherwise cadaverous, almost skeletal appearance. His arms were muscular but his hands long and his fingers thin and spindly. He looked over a large assortment of sharp implements of torture on ten tables before him, before selecting something that he found useful. He then walked over to the first male prisoner, who was bound to a wooden stake over a circular bed of hot coals that burned his feet black and pained him very awfully. One of the women was suspended next to him by her hair, over a much hotter fire that was designed not to burn her... but to make her feel afraid that it may rage up and do so at any time. The torturer addressed the man, saying in a very hateful voice: “Your ancestors... on other worlds and in other realms of existence... hunted our ancestors and slaughtered us wheresoever they could find us. Our ancestors vowed never to run again, for yours forced ours to run once... and so here we are with you at our mercy and the hunters become the hunted. This is not personal, what I do next... it is karmic justice!” And I was seated in the torture chamber watching all of this, for such was my duty as emperor to oversee the extraction of information from captured enemies. The torturer made countless cuts into the man's flesh, each precise and enough to elicit a scream but not to kill. He flayed one of the man's hands after unchaining it, cutting all of the tendons of the man's arm to render it useless. The blood was collected, and put in jars and bottles of glass with cork stoppers. He cut off one of the man's feet, and removed one of the man's eyes, mashing it into jelly in the process. Into the socket, he thrust a hot poker and filled in the wound with black tar. He cut the man's long hair off, none too gently and quite bloodily, and when still the man refused to talk he took a hot knife and cut off the man's testicles which he then fed to his pet wolf that he kept in a pen nearby. That male prisoner said only one word: “Die!” before passing out from his blood loss. The woman was treated no better, losing one of her breasts and having a hot poker thrust into her genitalia during the course of her torture. Deciding that she knew nothing after all, the torturer had cut her hair, letting her fall into the fire to burn to death slowly before fishing her out in her final moments to feed her to the wolf. The male prisoner then broke down and told all that he knew, and the long and the short of it was this: it was deemed that the Empire had grown so complacent and shrunk in its' territories so much, that many said should the capital city fall the whole of it was sure to collapse. Thus, navies were being launched and sent to achieve that end. I felt bored watching this gruesome but otherwise trivial spectacle, and it was then that I realized that this Empire was itself a sinking ship that with time would go under. I did not plan to be on it when it did sink. But neither did I wish to see it wholly forgotten!
At length, I discovered that a cabal of rivals were plotting against me... my own people... who held the view that me having compassion for that female slave made me less noble when in comparison to “nobler” emperors of the past. It was then that I started making plans to leave and to take my sister with me so that we could start over elsewhere. Within the next part I will be detailing the fruit that was born from those plans, and how in the end all things were changed but not in the ways that anyone expected. I began to study increasingly darker and more... twisted... black magic rituals during that time in which I had set my mind to leaving Kalaborea. Perhaps a part of me had already been tainted by these people, but in order to save what good lay within me, and within my sister... I had to study, even works of evil.
Published 16th May 2022
Author's Note
This work is based upon some of my past-life memories.
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
likes 0
reading list entries 0
comments 0
reads 141
Commenting Preference:
The author encourages honest critique.
