"He that dwelleth in the secret place of the most High shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty" Psalms 91:1
In a world of fantasy, two men in hooded black-leather
cloaks entered a cave.
I
A magician and his apprentice entered a dark barren cave;
Moving like shadows, it`s black depths they would brave.
The magician was a man who was intelligent and proud,
With a brazen confidence, he spoke fearlessly and loud.
“Lucid, my lad, there is no cause for ignorant fear
To the center of the cavern, we are drawing ever near
Forward now, without any hesitation – we must continue to
steer”!
Lucid, the apprentice, may have appeared (to some) as weak;
But of his many strengths, his greatest was that he was
meek.
“Sir Aphotic, you mistake my cautiousness for cowardice;
And with you my master, by my side, I feel far from
powerless”.
“No better apprentice, my boy, anywhere to be found”,
Aphotic responded, with his usual air of sounding profound;
And, the two descended further and deeper underground.
A wisp summoned between them, provided their eyes with light;
Aphotic walked along the Left, while Lucid favored the
Right.
Aphotic carried a whimsical staff, and Lucid a sword and
supply pack
They were delving further away, from the worn and beaten
track.
Lucid, was once an alchemist, but now, had begun to learn
magic.
Alchemic recipes, calcinations, and tinctures; seemed to
restrict
His potential. The man`s unquenchable curiosity was intrinsic.
Not daft, in his craft, he had travelled from Mercury to
Saturn;
Then on to Jupiter and Venus, learning every various
pattern.
Before long he unlocked and comprehended, the secrets of the
Moon;
While stuck inside his laboratory, in desolate loneliness
and empty gloom.
With great effort he eventually found his way to Mars,
But before the Sun, he grew tired of ingredients in jars;
And sought an art to take him beyond the universe and stars.
It was at this point, Lucid became an apprentice to Aphotic.
Aphotic was a conjurer, quite conversant in all forms of
magic.
His ultimate goal was to master the elements of creation;
He pursued this dream with tireless, sometimes rash,
dedication.
Aphotic sought steadily, without the slightest sign of
relent,
To become the commander and controller of every element;
And to achieve this fancy all his energy, was endlessly,
spent.
The two entered the cave, to attempt to open an unseen door;
Which lead to a realm, most of their kind had never tread in
before.
Aphotic had recently acquired an ancient grimoire, stained
with blood;
And in the previous days, he poured over the book`s pages
like a flood.
Now, the arrogant magician, had come to firmly trust and
believe:
(That the text`s inscriptions and runes did not lie or
deceive)
Should he chant the spell within, then creation`s power he`d
receive.
After a descending amount of time had eventually passed,
The magician and his student, had reached the center at
last.
Lucid reached into his pack, and pulled out some
candlesticks;
And Aphotic dismissed the wisp, as Lucid lit the waxy wicks.
Lucid listened to Aphotic`s every detailed instruction,
First clearing the site, of even any minor obstruction;
Then going to work on the ritual`s, vital, altar
construction.
II
Lucid finished his work after about an hour,
And the altar now stood, pulsating with power.
Aphotic stood up, abandoning his staff,
And took a swig of some wine held in a carafe.
“Lucid let us make one final check,
To ensure this area, we did correctly bedeck”.
“Your wand, a cup, a pentacle, my sword,
And encircling the floor – the name of a Lord”.
Lucid stepped back. Aphotic smiled, for his apprentice had
done well;
And reading from the unknown grimoire, he began chanting the
spell…
“Se Sahasrara –
Se Ajna –
Boro Na
Anazitisoun –
Vishuddhi…”
III
With the incantation, which was spoken,
The two magicians received their first token.
The candles flames had softly fluttered,
With every syllable which was muttered.
Aphotic smiled wider and paused for a brief moment -
Then continued with his repetitions, insistently persistent…
“Dous Mou Anahata”
Wind had begun to steadily rise,
In every word the man spoke.
Now, the very power of the skies,
Did Aphotic steadily invoke.
He continued the mystic, ancient chant;
Sounding much like a madman, on a rant.
The harsh winds blowing, tore at Lucid`s robes,
And still faster and stronger – the air arose.
More violently and viciously the wind blew,
Like an incoming tornado, the torrent grew.
Lucid looked on helplessly, powerless, and unable to defend;
Against the developing sphere, swirling around his good
friend.
Around the magician and the altar, the air seemed to somehow
bend;
Despite it all Aphotic`s chant did not end (nor his high
hopes to transcend).
Aphotic had no other perception,
Except his desire for sovereignty…
“Dous Mou Manipura”
Fire came forth from the cavern floor,
In a large spire of burning hot blaze.
Rolling, twirling, swirling and more;
Ever higher and grander, it did raise.
The magician`s brow had grown damp, very wet;
The occult incantation had caused him to sweat.
The flames which gestated from the ground,
Seared Lucid`s skin, as they swam around.
Fire charred his clothing beyond all repair,
As it now joined in dancing, among the air.
Lucid struggled, to watch the tempest of furious fire.
He knew this summoning was his leaders’ hearts-desire;
Still, he feared, for the situation looked somewhat dire.
He felt the quest could cause Aphotic to, somehow, expire.
Aphotic had no other perception,
Except his desire for sovereignty.
Spurred onward by his temptation,
In frivolity, without any modesty…
“Dous Mou Svadhisthana…”
And so, water from the ceiling entered the fray
(Quelling the quite tremendous heat)
Undulating in every direction, it would spray;
And yet, the wind and inferno did not retreat.
The magician felt not even a hint of fear;
Still, speaking the recitation perfectly clear.
The liquid raining down from the stone ceiling
Forced Lucid to the ground, and left him reeling.
Splashes repeatedly blasted Lucid in the face,
Drowning and smothering his cries for grace.
Lucid`s mind was spinning, as a vase of a potter,
Under the pressure of the onslaught of water.
He felt his life drain, and mortality beginning to totter;
Feeling much like: a spotter at a loved one`s slaughter.
Aphotic had no other perception,
Except his desire for sovereignty.
Spurred onward by his temptation,
In frivolity, without any modesty.
Never assuming any miscalculation,
Ignoring the ferocity of the cacophony…
“Dous Mou Muldhara…”
Declaring, earth now be generated –
Instantly the cavern began to shake.
Rumbling which could not be abated,
The source of it, was the earthquake.
Earth and stone, smashed Lucid`s body and head;
His skin was ruptured, and from every incision he bled.
Welts and bruises, embraced and defaced his flesh;
As soil joined the sphere and together did they mesh.
Every sense of potentially hopeful mirth;
No longer held, for Lucid, even the slightest worth.
All positivity was crushed under the immense girth;
By the assault, the myriad, the sheer power of earth.
Aphotic had no other perception,
Except his desire for sovereignty.
Spurred onward by his temptation,
In frivolity, without any modesty.
Never assuming any miscalculation,
Ignoring the ferocity of the cacophony;
Yet, his confidence veiled the ultimate deception.
“Latechoun Mou Me To Thanato”
And with those words, Aphotic did shout -
Following immediately, Lucid passed out…
IV
Lucid awoke, after some time, from his present concussion.
His head was pounding, like an instrument of percussion.
The cave was completely leveled,
Strange accoutrements disheveled.
Lucid noticed the strange space was still dark, but also
barely lit;
Lucid felt the environment was simultaneously cold, hot, dry
and wet.
Painfully, rising to his feet, Lucid noticed there was a
strange red glow
Emanating (and the source of light) among the turmoil`s
eerie laconism.
The soft light, was indeed ominous, and amplifying the cavern`s
woe;
It was reflecting and deflecting, on every crevice and every
schism.
Lucid saw a man, wreathed in a magical red hue, on the caves
ebony base;
He thought “Where am I, and who is this stranger lying upon
his face”?
The man`s lifeless body seemed unharmed, but was smoldering;
Lucid felt a familiarity, like the two were reunited kin, or
something…
When suddenly, memory brought to Lucid a great sense of
grief;
Not physical pain, but one to which there is no alleviating
relief.
All the events mentally, would repeated replay;
On the cave`s cold floor, his loving felled Father lay.
As, Lucid stepped forward to check on his biological master
The old magus, Aphotic, sprang to life; upright like a
pilaster.
Lucid jumped back in both joy and shock,
Upon seeing his kin rise from the bedrock.
“Master, I cannot fathom how you are alive
The possibility of this – I could not contrive”!
“Alive and well, my concerned apprentice -
This power I feel is quite momentous”!
“After seeing your body`s fog and radiance scarlet
In your stillness I fancied you became a human garnet”.
“Young son, I do assure you, I am no ore;
Still, your concern and imagination I do adore.
This vermillion bloom, I`d ask you please ignore.
This is the effects of my new power – nothing more”.
“I thank the God Virtu for you security,
And for saving your body from any impurity”.
“No need to pay dues, to your fragile God;
For with my new power, I`ll prove Him a fraud”
Just then, Aphotic coughed up sanguine fluid.
“Master! What is wrong!” exclaimed Lucid.
But, before Aphotic could render any sort of answer;
He began convulsing, like a stoke-suffering dancer.
V
Lucid limped towards Aphotic, to check on his spasm;
But, his movement was obviated, by a growing chasm.
The terrain shook violently, as it was being torn sharply in
half;
Even in the tremor, Lucid was confounded, as Aphotic began
to laugh.
This reaction was followed, by a shriek and a painful wail;
Even in the dim light, Lucid saw Aphotic growing pale.
Aphotic`s glow disappeared, with one final agonizing scream;
The cavern became onyx, like the precursor of a dream.
There nestled deep, in the stone and earth haven;
All Lucid could perceive, was a silent lull and raven.
Soon after, two blood-red eyes appeared, glowing within the
jet;
Upon Lucid a vile and shrill voice, would now apprehend and
beset.
“To this realm I shall
bring annihilation!
You Magi shall be
delivered to eradication”.
Lucid was filled with unease, and felt much trembling terror;
But his loyalty Aphotic, caused him to address this ill
bearer.
“No such fate will occur while I still breathe;
Now return my master, or your heart I will sheathe”.
At Lucid`s rebuttal, the eyes now thinned and cackled.
“You are ignorant to
the terror you`ve just unshackled”.
The glowing amber eyes, unto Lucid, were drawing nigh;
And as the moved closer, they sent him another evil reply.
“You are facing the
immortal Aziblis, you foolish anemic humanoid;
Now, please enjoy the
pleasure of being the first one destroyed”
The two smiling eyes slowly closed, joining in with the fade;
Lucid heard footsteps closing in, as he reached for his
blade.
Though Lucid`s spirit was emboldened; in his current
physical condition,
His attempts to fight back would be: pure folly and utter
fruition.
When Aziblis re-opened his eyes, they were in front of
Lucid`s face.
Fearfully Lucid struggled, while upon his throat, two hands
did encase
Lucid was broken and weak, fighting back with punches in
vain;
And one hand was still reaching for his sword, with great
strain.
Then his memory, again, brought gloom; which enveloped his
brain.
With only an empty sheathe, his death he could not deny;
With the little he had left, in his shrinking air supply
He let out a loud cry, presuming he was about to die.
“Please save me Virtu”!
VI
Lucid opened his eyes and was staring into a strange
alabaster slumber.
His pain and death, he felt moments ago, seemed to no longer
encumber.
As his vision grew clear, it seemed he was frozen in time,
in the now candlelit cave;
Standing outside of his flesh, watching his master about to
send him to his grave.
As he curiously examined the scene, a voice quite calming
whispered in his head;
She sounded powerful and gentle, and to Lucid, this is what
she lovingly said:
“Lucid, my love, your
life I can now still deliver;
For above all the
things I AM, I AM a giver.
Unfortunately,
Aphotic will have to perish;
For this I am sorry,
for I know him you do cherish.
If life is your wish,
swear fealty to me on a knee;
A servant at my
command you`ll be, do you agree”?
Lucid asked, “Who are you?” with astounding awe and great trepidation.
“Are you so dense, my
love, you cannot make the simplest correlation”?
With the oblivious, obvious, overlooked revelation;
Lucid swore on his knee, with no further hesitation.
The voice spoke once more, “Your faith and trust shall not go to waste;
For even as we now
speak, my servant draws near, with divine haste”.
Then, Lucid was transported back to his body;
After the peaceful experience, his flesh felt shoddy.
VII
Before Lucid felt any of the once chocking pain;
A blast from the ceiling, blew the two men apart.
With the opening, the room was flooded with light arcane;
And every inch of darkness within it, was caused to depart.
Lucid`s normal vision, in time, had slowly returned;
Though, his eyes still felt as if they were burned.
Looking into the center of the illumination,
Lucid saw what looked like a man`s manifestation.
With cloud-like ivory smoke and a silvery flash,
A hooded angelic figure appeared, amidst crash.
The winged creature was dressed in ornate shining armor, and
plate.
The part of his visible face, was filled with purpose and
devoid of hate.
The man stared in the direction of Aphotic, with his blank
look;
And when he spoke, the cavern gently (once again) shook.
“Aziblis you are commanded by Virtu to release the magician
Or be dispatched from existence, in a bloody tradition”.
“Metathronos, you
frail and utterly powerless knave
I`ll crucify you too,
you unintelligent, feeble-minded slave”.
Then, the possessed magus ran to attack the seraph;
With the intention of collecting a deadly, fatal tariff.
As Aphotic charged in a wild yell, Metathronos held out his
veiled hand;
And instantaneously, there appeared a gilded sword, without
any verbal command.
With another flash, Aphotic’s flesh was allocated into two;
And Lucid cried, wishing he could have only said “Adieu”.
As Lucid, over his fallen father and friend, cried;
From the body`s gory mass, new wonderment, Lucid espied.
Among the fresh maroon liqud, there was something seeping;
From the deceased, sloe mist and vapor, was now creeping.
The wealth of smoke, without any form;
In skyward motions, began to swarm.
With collected red lightening in a contained violent storm,
A corrupted mirror image of the angel, would conform.
A black hooded creature, with tattered attire, finally
appeared;
After the, encompassed cyclonic, tempest was finally
sheared.
In the incubus`s hand there was a nightmarish scythe,
And Aziblis spoke, both lethargic and with blithe.
“Meta! Face to face.
It has been an aeon since we last spoke!
How`s Virtu – that
twit, that whore, that coccygodynia and joke?
This event is larger
than us two, what these Magi have invoked
The wheel is in
motion, and what`s written cannot be revoked”.
“Aziblis you are an ignoramus, a cretin, a puppet, a tool;
You are no more than an attendant to Phosphor, you fool.
All you forsaken have betrayed the all-powerful legitimate
and It`s rule
For what? Phosphor`s prophecy! I pity you, now let`s finish
this duel”!
Lucid listened to the exchange, and watched the fight that
began,
This contest consumed every morsel of his attention span.
Metathronos and Aziblis raised their respective arms,
And said incomprehensible words and strange charms.
A loud crash rang out with each strike,
Lucid watched the savagery slowly spike.
Sparks flew in starbursts, and twangs rang in the cavern
atmosphere.
The caliber of each grunting combatant was in the same
stratosphere.
In one particular blow, Aziblis swung his sickle, and with a
sharp metallic clatter;
Planted the point of it in Metathronos`s chest, releasing
divine inorganic matter.
Lucid gasped, Metathronos`s shriek was painful;
And Aziblis`s grin looked, even more so, baneful.
Before Lucid`s mind could process and assess the situation;
The two rapidly resumed fighting, with a moment`s cessation.
Lucid thought, the bout was growing more pernicious;
As the jostles, gleams, and rings became more vicious.
Lucid was concerned the angel, being wounded, would fail;
But in that same moment of doubt, Metathronos would prevail.
He dodged a slash, and impaled his sword into the demon`s
head;
As all fear fled from Lucid, as he was sure the beast was
now dead.
To Lucid`s bewilderment the shade somehow survived
(As if some sort of necromancy, had kept the body alive)!
Aziblis fell to his knees, completely dilapidated,
And spoke to Lucid of ideas (seemingly antiquated).
“Lucid, someday my comrades will bring your spirit along -
For you know as well as I, it is with Phosphor you truly
belong.
An officer with significant rank among the ten-thousand
strong;
Though I may die, the prophecy has never been proven wrong.
Well Meta, as they say, this battle has been won;
But, you know as well as I, the war has just begun”.
The angel said “Goodbye once old friend.
It`s not for us to decide, when it is the end”.
The angel moved into position, and prepared to drop the
sharp edge;
Metathronos beheaded the demon, as a gardener trimming a
hedge.
Black liquid spilled out like acid, out onto limestone;
With crimson flashes in it, like a strange brunet
rhinestone.
Metathronos stood over the fallen, with sadness and majesty;
Then turned to the beaten, former practitioner of alchemy.
“Lucid, hold fast, to all your mortal sanity -
For we must depart from this realm quite rapidly.
Through time and space, far beyond the galaxy
Into a place of deadly delirium and fantastic fantasy
Prepare to journey,
into the Realm of Apathy”!
Composed By: Andrew Drucker
