Followers of the Flame – Chapter Three

Antagon was a young priest of Vulken, or young as Vulkenik priests go. (He was twenty eight at the time of our story, having been ordained for one year.) Antagon was a serious man, with reddish-brown hair and a bit on the tall side. He stood six feet tall in today's measurements. His features were sharp, as was his mind, and sometimes his speech. Antagon was not an evil man, but he was a determined sort. Once he made up his mind, there was little chance of changing it. He was still thinking in what we would call “black and white”in this day and age, and most of us would have described him as stoic and rigid. Antagon had a slight sense of humor, and an exaggerated sense of piety and righteousness.

The problem with the came about because Antagon became determined that mining the great vein of orichalcum was angering his God Vulken, and Vulken was taking it out on everyone by making the earth tremble all around Mount Alluveath. Antagon feared that if he didn't stop the mining, Vulken would begin working the bellows of his Forge, making molten rock, ash and hot gases fly up and shower upon all their heads. This was greatly complicated with frustration, because Antagon was Second Priest, and the First Priest, Firgane, didn't agree with Antagon at all. They had discussed this at their dinner table more than once in lively debate, but Firgane's word was last at this temple.

Firgane firmly believed that mining orichalcum was Vulken's intention, for how else could one craft the necessary implements and ritual objects necessary to properly equip new Vulkenik temples? Firgane was a jovial sort with olive skin and dark hair. He was of medium height and built like a dancer, despite his fifty years. Firgane was prone to deep meditations and vision, with a kindly yet firm manner with most everyone he met. Firgane had yet to grasp the depth of near-panic that Antagon was internalizing with each tremor of the ground and burble of hot gas or steam from the Forge.

One of the main functions of the priests of Vulken's temple and their rituals was to help keep the God of the Forge appeased, and to make certain that his blessings kept lending mejikal power to the equipment that worked the mines. Without Vulken's blessing, there would be no lights, no water, and no cutting tools operating in the Cradle. The heat from the steam vents leading down to the Forge powered all this, and even partially powered the great lung of the Cradle itself. Vulken's priests were supposed to be deeply trained to withstand the shaking and smoke caused by the Hammer striking the Forge. Firgane couldn't understand how Antagon could not realize that these tremors and smoke were a necessary part of the God's work.

What Firgane didn't know of was the graphic and vivid dream Antagon had had on the last night of Winter, at the Solstice itself. Antagon had seen the God with an angry face and red glowing eyes, swearing to strike the very Earth asunder with his hammer if his treasures were not properly respected. At the end of the dream, Vulken's eyes had become shining orbs of orichalcum, gleaming hot as Antagon awoke in dread and terror. Antagon was certain that Vulken had spoken to him, ordering him to slow the mining of red gold, and reserving it solely for use in the temples that he must build all over the world. It was this dream that Antagon related only to the Second Acolyte Merdano, his sole confidant and closest friend at the small and slightly remote temple of Alluveath.

One of the rituals performed by Vulken's followers was to observe the Forge from the rim of the caldera on a daily basis and determine Vulken's mood and manner for the day. There were many small details to pay attention to, such as the heat and steam and smoke, the way the air shimmered with heat waves, if the air had color or odor to it, and exactly how the ground moved if it did so. The ancient ritual elements and deep meditation that went with this duty were good indicators of whether Vulken would fully heat the Forge, causing a massive eruption of Mount Alluveath. This was done from a small observation seat at the end of a narrow footpath that lead to the other side of the caldera from where the temple was located.

There was only the one path to and from the seat, so going there was literally putting one's fate completely at the mercy of Vulken. Should He work the Forge with rage, there was no time to escape His wrath. The Second Acolyte must accompany the Second Priest on this daily walk of fate, and share it.

It was the Second Priest's duty and honor to perform this ritual. Should the Forge awaken in full, there was a shrill whistle carried by the Second Priest to warn the Temple. If the Second Priest were overcome before he could give warning, the Second Acolyte had a whistle also. If the Second Acolyte saw the Second Priest put whistle to lips, the Second Acolyte must immediately do the same, so that the warning wouldn't fail. The First Priest in turn would roll a massive boulder over onto a track leading down the Mount to alert the Cradle and the Temple of the Peacemaker. The rest of the Temple of Vulken's people would follow the boulder in wheeled vehicles down the track in the order of their training status in an attempt to preserve the knowledge of the Order. The Seconds could try to follow, but they were entirely at Vulken's mercy in their flight. One must wonder, despite the years of meditation and training, how exactly this daily walk and watch shaped the internal mindscapes of the Seconds.

One of the interesting powers of the Priests and Acolytes was their ability to call forth a small portion of the heat and light of Vulken's Forge Fire and bend it to their will. The more able the Priest or Acolyte, the greater portion of the Fire they could call forth. It was not uncommon to see one of them light candles at dinner, or heat water for a bath when traveling. They could set most anything flammable to burning, and light dark spaces. If you watched closely, you would see them whispering prayers to the Forge God when calling Fire. Many an Acolyte had been ordered to journey between temples for trading and passing messages, and to assist with the safety and comfort of trading vessels or caravans. A follower of Vulken was always a welcome traveling companion for those who respected the Order of Fire.

Followers were also sworn to never speak something untrue, so their word was greatly respected. They were also renowned for their silence and discretion as a result of this oath. As one might expect, this and the abilities of Fire were a great source of the Order's income and means of support. They could demand a strong price for dispatching an Acolyte along on a journey or to carry a message faithfully. The price for a Priest of Fire was even greater, but their ability and honesty were in great demand for traveling through dangerous or remote areas of the world.

When a new Second Priest and Second Acolyte were dispatched to the temple, life got much more interesting for Antagon and Merdano. Much more interesting indeed.

To be continued...

An Historical Example of the Use of the Blood Rose of Atlantis:

Approximately one hundred years before the final destruction of Atlantis, the last of the Court Crimson fell to attack by Magi of the Black Arts, known as the Negichaei.

The Negichaei were primarily of the black race of Man. There were exceptions, especially when it was of strategic value to make exceptions, however.

While the black men of Atlantis were primarily peaceful and contributed greatly to Atlantean culture and history, like all the races of Man, there were those among them in positions of wealth and power who sought to maintain or improve their vast fortunes. The Negichaei were the same sort of secret society, much as the Illuminati of modern times are believed to be.

The black people of Atlantis were primarily renowned for their fantastic abilities in mining and grand works of monolithic architecture. The two sets of skills go hand-in-hand. Incredible architectural skill in the times of Atlantis made underground mining much safer than it is even in modern times, and cave-ins were rare, excepting at the advancing mine head. Without their skills, much of Atlantean civilization would have been impossible. These people were also well-revered for their clever and even brilliant sense of humor.

The mine head was a dark, dirty, dangerous place to work. With few exceptions, those who risked their lives at the mine face were conscripted as a punishment for criminal activities the Atlanteans could not rehabilitate, even with their long-forgotten skills of the mind. Either that, or they were those of very poor birth who had little other choice to earn their existence.

All who worked the mine face were paid reasonable wages, even if they weren't there voluntarily. The wages of conscripts were given to their families, who were often as victimized by the behavior of the conscripts as their actual victims. Those who were poor and chose to work the mine face made enough to reasonably support their families, and also educate their children in useful trades. This was the result of long-standing traditions the Atlanteans had of caring for one another as a society in general.

Many who worked the mines on a voluntary basis were even able to move up into better positions and retire successfully. Such work was dangerous, but not an automatic death sentence by any means. These folk were well-respected as having worked their way up in society.

The conscripts, however, were another matter entirely. They were never trustworthy, honest people to begin with. Therefore they were given the most dangerous work, and this situation required a class of enforcement personnel in the mines who were capable of dealing with persons both corrupted by nature and often capable of various forms of mejik.

The mine operators, often powerful members of the Negichaei, were thus always working and struggling with the problems of keeping qualified enforcers willing to work at the mine face. This was a costly and difficult aspect of operating the mines, as you would expect. It is this situation which created both the need for, and ironically, the downfall of the Court Crimson.

Our example then lies in the story of one such mine operator, a powerful Negichaei known as Devistan.

Devistan operated a mine in the far Northwestern area of the main island of Atlantis, near where the islandsof Bimini lie today, and just across the Atlantic ocean from it, at the end of a string of islands that trailed off into the Caribbean Sea. This mine was known and famous as the Cradle of the Red Sunlight, and it was a very old mine. Its main product was a metal known as orichalcum, otherwise known as the red gold of Atlantis.

Orichalcum, the red gold of Atlantis, was prized both for its beauty and its utility. Said to gleam like sunlight in the early morning, orichalcum also possessed qualities of excellent durability and hardness, and was able to serve as a channel for mejikal forces when utilized in the proper manner. It was also believed to help energize and sustain the body when used in eating utensils and fine table ware.

Orichalcum was used in many ways throughout Atlantean society, and the Cradle of the Red Sun was the oldest and greatest of three mines producing it. The mine had provided orichalcum for Atlantis for over two thousand years, and its rich vein showed no signs of playing out. Devistan's ancestors had been the first to discover orichalcum and mine it. They also operated several manufacturing houses that produced goods and art works of the red gold.

It should be known that Devistan's family did not own the mine or manufacturing operations. All land and natural materials in Atlantis were owned by the government, and controlled by one of the Twelve Kings of Atlantis. Still, Devistan's family had for centuries operated the mine successfully for the Northwesternstern province, and their heirs had long been trained in the necessary skills to do so. As long as things continued to operate smoothly, no Atlantean King would have reason or desire to disrupt these operations.

Personal possessions, however, such as finished goods, tools, artworks, and other items could, however, be owned by Atlantean citizens and passed down through inheritance. Only if a family died out with no heir did such items revert to State ownership.

Taxation in Atlantis was in the form of a portion of finished goods produced by the manufacturing operations owned by the State and operated by Atlantean families. One tenth of all such production went to the State for sale or use as a King or his royal designates saw fit. Thus taxation was a limited drag on the Atlantean economy and yet sufficient to perform the necessary functions of the Atlantean States. The other nine-tenths of production were used to sustain manufacturing and the remainder of Atlantean society. This was a strong and stable arrangement that lasted thousands of years.

Alluvea was the name of the region of Atlantis where the Cradle of the Red Sun was located. It was close geographically to the principle city of Atlantis, just in the Northwestern foothills of the mountains and roughly two hundred miles North of the city. Alluvea swept down from the foothills of the mountains to the edge of the sea in the West. Its Northern border was close to the mine, and it was beautiful country. It was somewhat rainy and cool, as the prevailing winds were from the West, and mostly stalled by the mountains. Irrigation from mountain streams fed its croplands, and tropical fruits and vegetables were produced there.

The Cradle of the Red Sun ran beneath the Earth from halfway up Mount Alluveath, reaching well into the foothills and branching out in many directions. Other veins of valuable mineral, metal, and crystal were followed in these branches, but none came close to matching the Red Heart, the massive vein of orichalcum that was so famed among the mining families.

The entry to the Cradle was said to be a wonder to behold. One climbed the flank of Mount Alluveath, a steaming old volcano that reached far into the skies. Ancient lava flows directed the course of the road up the mountain, which was as wide and sturdily built as any modern highway in our time. The lava rock excavated from the path the road followed was used to fill in the three vast docks of the Trident, the main port of Alluvea directly West of the Cradle.

Marker posts along this roadway were gilded in orichalcum, and gleamed in the light of the rising sun to the East and beaming down from Mount Alluveath, making the trip especially spectacular in later morning hours. The signs appeared like flashes of sun fire at regular intervals on both sides of the massive roadway.

On each side of the roadway, massive walls of perfectly cut basalt rock lined the path. They were nearly four stories tall, and ensured that no traffic entered or left the road except at its ends. The only way off the Red Road were an occasional stairway to either side, suitable for people to walk single-file. In the top of each wall was a tunnel shielded by massive blocks of basalt, an escape path in the event that Mount Alluveath should erupt again.

Within the walls were the homes of the miners and the shops that repaired vehicles that occasionally broke down on their endless trips to and from the Cradle. Some small shops made implements and tools for daily life and for the miners' tools. Each home or shop had its own entrances to both the Red Road and the escape tunnels in the tops of the walls.

The Red Road stretched all the way from the entrance to the Cradle to the sea port of Trident, where it fanned wide in a protective embrace of the port. Massive gates of red stone fifty feet thick were constructed at the point where the walls flared open to surround the port. These gates were opened and closed as needed by means of a mejik spell known only to Devistan or his trusted lieutenants. Upon the inner and outer faces of the red gates were inlaid runes of warding in the ancient mejikal language of Atlantis, able to be read only by Adepts or Meji. These protective runes were gilded with orichalcum and set with powerful crystals that braced the walls and gates with both mejikal and solar energies. It was whispered that anything or anyone touching the closed gates would turn to ash as surely as if they or it had fallen into the mouth of Mount Alluveath and the forge of Vulken.

Other, lesser stone gates were set into the walls and could be closed at various points along the Red Road trapping any invader in kill zones as they tried to approach the mines, or blocking the flow of lava should Vulken send a river of fire stone down from the mount.

Halfway up the Red Road, a vast temple of the Peacemaker straddled the road and its massive walls. The temple was able to host a thousand priests, and both the Peacemaker's and Vulken's priests resided in this temple. Side-by-side the acolytes of both Gods lived and performed their duties. The altar of the Peacemaker was set facing East toward the rising sun, at the top of winding stairs at the highest peak of the temple, seeming to touch the sky. The altar of Vulken was another matter, however. It was set at the highest point upon the rim of the crater of Mount Alluveath itself, and reachable only by a narrow path leading from the end of the Red Road to the summit. There was a small, but important temple there. The Temple of Vulken housed two priests and some twenty acolytes. There were other Vulkenik temples at various volcanic peaks around Atlantis, and some were fairly large. This temple was small and remote, yet vital and carrying a highly-respected history within the Vulkenik order.

As one finally came upon the entrance to the Cradle, they saw massive works of cut stone that formed the dual entrance to the mine itself. The stoneworks were polished to a gleaming, lustrous finish and set with many runes and crystals, precious gems of great power, and a spider web of orichalcum runes. Incredibly massive doors were set able to swing shut upon Devistan's order, enabling the mine to be sealed with a power only the Atlantean King might hope to breach, or a powerful God.

The mine had two entrances, one large from which all traffic entered and left, and a second, smaller tunnel which was empty of any motion, with one fantastic exception. A massive fan of circular shape, crafted of solid gleaming orichalcum and set with many glowing crystals spun in the tunnel just past the immense doorway. A constant stream of hot, steamy air blew from this tunnel, and it was this that was the lung of the great mine. A great stone wall between the two tunnels directed the exhaust away from the Red Road and off to the flank of the volcano, where it rose to join Vulken's Breath – the steam from Mount Alluveath's great peak.

This is the backdrop in which is set the story of both the rise and the fall of the Court Crimson, here at the feet of Vulken.

To be continued...

The Blood Rose of Atlantis - Chapter One

Grymwyre Of Atlantean Spells

Mejik is a fascinating thing. It feeds on belief. Anyone's belief. If something inside a person can twist in just the right way, reach a certain angle of viewpoint, and see the universe in a certain way, the universe can find it easier to follow the viewpoint than all the viewpoints in the past.

When it comes to conflicting beliefs, that's when things can get interesting. Sometimes, they get academically interesting, like a text book question. At other times, they're more like the ancient Chinese curse - "may you live in interesting times." Something like the times the Earth is passing through now, but I digress.

There are earlier times in human history, forgotten times. Times with scattered clues all about us, yet so distant as to be like fragments caught in the amber of a hillside that only seems natural, or where a customary gesture comes from. We don't know why we have certain little rituals about us, they've just always been. Or so it would seem.

Wouldn't it be interesting indeed if we could look back into those distant ages and vanished cultures, possibly even civilizations? If we had a mejik mirror that saw the distant past and let it fill our vision now, today. What secrets might we learn?

Perhaps, we might just look inside, and the mirror is right there, when our eyes are closed, piecing the clues we have into sections of a subconscious puzzle - illuminating areas no one else has seen.

Soon, it will be time to begin those explorations, and I will bring them to the pages of this grymwyre like candles from the darkest corners of the night.

First, though, I must walk the land of djriems. Only in that place might I find the matches to light such candles to glowing.

I shall soon return.

AquarianM

The Blood Rose Of Atlantis

Many people today believe that vampires originated in a land called Transylvania. Certainly vampires today welcome that belief. In fact, like many spells and curses, the curse of vampirism originates in ancient Atlantis. Modern vampires prefer this to remain unknown because such ignorance allows them to use their raw power without the vulnerability of conscience or feeling.

Modern vampirism is a bastardization of a powerful spell used in lost Atlantis to create its most feared and respected soldiers to enforce the rule of the Atlantean Council and the Grym Whizzyrd, leader of the Council. Vampirism is a bastardization by omission, caused by its Transylvanian originator only finding half the spell. It is a result of ignorance, and because of that ignorance, it serves the purposes of the archetypal Satanic Entity rather than its intended higher purpose of creating Keepers of Order.

The Blood Rose of Atlantis is the second half of the transformation process necessary to create a true Vampiric Court, or Court Crimson, as this order's name would translate in modern languages.

Here, I will reveal the Blood Rose of Atlantis, and give an historical example of its use, as devised and employed by the first Grym Whizzyrd of Atlantis.

The Blood Rose of Atlantis is employed once a vampire is created. Its effect is to cause vampires to regain their human emotion and feeling, and conscience. It returns to a vampire its connection to its soul, and therefore its connection to all souls and the laws of spirituality, such as Karma, Dharma, and suchlike. A vampire to whom this spell is gifted also regains its ability to sustain life through eating and drinking ordinary foods and renders a spiritual alternative to the energies of human blood available through the Universal Source. This means that the vampire no longer requires human blood to survive, nor is it vulnerable to sunlight any longer.

Vampires under the laws of the Blood Rose of Atlantis are still subject to death by a wooden stake through the heart, decapitation, or fire. No longer, however, need said vampire fear the sun nor holy water, nor the burning touch of the universal symbol of the Christ archetypal entity. (The cross and the Universal Spirit that it represents are as old as time and more.) They are rendered in service of the Light rather than the Dark by this spell.

For this reason, I must return this spell to current knowledge rather than leave it lost in the mists of forgotten history. It is my duty as a Whizzyrd of Light.

Required Materials:

1. A single flawless ruby of one carat or larger. (Used to focus Universal Light and shine it eternally into the heart of the undead.)

2. Five one carat or larger rose quartz crystals. (Used to gather Universal Light and feed it into the ruby focus.)

3. One pint of the Blood of the Christ Spirit. (Used to replace the blood a rose-less vampire requires to live. I believe it may be possible to use wine converted to Eucharist in Christian worship ceremonies, but were I wrong, the results could be deadly for whomever attempts to place the Blood Rose of Atlantis upon the vampire.)

4. Pure silver of sufficient quantity to set the Blood Rose of Atlantis and allow its permanent placement upon the body of the vampire to be treated.

5. Five drops of cord-blood from a virgin birth. (This gives residual merikal energy to the spell.)

6. Seven drops of the juices of desire from seven virgins, collected while they were in the unfulfilled throes of desire for their heart's true love. (To replace the passion the vampire lost in becoming undead.)

Procedure:

On a night when the Seven Sisters are surrounding Jupiter, then the flower may be grown. By starlight and moonlight the ruby and quartz already cut are laid in silver in the shape of a flower.

Behind the ruby in the setting, place the love throes of seven virgins mixed with the blood of innocent birth. These must be sealed within the center of the flower, its nectar, the tone of the energies it shall play upon the undead.

The flower is then inscribed upon its setting with the symbol of life and the symbol of the Peacemaker, and also the symbol of the Mother of All. This is done with concentrated moon and starlight, heating the silver just enough to lay in these runes.

The ruby, the heart of the Blood Rose of Atlantis, is the last piece set. As it is laid in place, the Whizzyrd recites the Oath of Service over the budded flower, ending with the intonation of Anahkh.

Seven silver bells and five golden are pealed at once by twelve disciples of the Whizzyrd, exactly and perfectly at the moment Anahkh is uttered.

The budded flower is then allowed to bask in only moonlight and starlight each night for twelve years. Upon the exact night the twelve years are fulfilled, the flower-maker shall open its blossom to the red rays of the sun's birth at the exact moment of morning in the East. At this moment will be heard the echo of the twelve peals in one.

Immediately enclose the Blood Rose of Atlantis in darkened silk in a cedar box. Store it such until its placement upon the vampire.

At the moment of next dawn, open the cairn of the vampire to the first rays of morning, and immediately lay the Blood Rose of Atlantis over the burning vampire's heart. Leave the cairn open to the sunlight until nothing remains but the undead ash and the Blood Rose of Atlantis. Close the cairn immediately.

Take the cairn to the steps of the closest temple of the Peacemaker, arranging it to face the sun. There, all the priests of the Peacemaker must perform the rites of birth over the cairn, ending at dawn precisely. As the last note of the rite perishes in the first ray of dawnlight, open the cairn.

The reborn vampire will step forth into the morning sun, no longer pale nor pallid, but flush with the rosy hue of life. He or she will now break bread and share water and wine with the Sons of Man as a brother. By moonlight and by sunlight they shall live. They shall bathe in the Mother's waters and breathe the Father's air exactly as does Man, Whale, or Dolphin. They shall father or bear children, and love them as does any parent. They shall know every passion, pain, and hope of human life. They shall be known as vampires of the Court Crimson, and live among men as friends and allies.

Being vampires already, the Court Crimson are immune to the bite and other powers of undead vampires.

The vampires' trick of not appearing in mirrors does not fool them. They know to look just beyond the mirrors' field of view where the vampire's reflection has been shifted by mejik. They are themselves able to work such spells themselves, simply through an act of will.

Should an undead vampire turn to mist and try to flee in shadowed breezes, the Court Crimson can smell the faint scent of the undead and follow it in its own draft.

Were an undead vampire to become a bat and attempt to fly away, the Court Crimson can become a nighthawk and seize the undead in its powerful talons.

If the undead vampire attempts the guise of a wolf, the warrior of the Court Crimson becomes a lion and rends the undead wolf completely.

However, should one of the Court Crimson bite an undead vampire in the fashion vampires are wont to do, the undead vampire will immediately burst into eldritch blue flames, and turn to ash upon the spot. The next morning, the ashes will spring back to life, subject to the spell of the Blood Rose of Atlantis, and subservient to the Court Crimson agent that caused its painful rebirth.

Perhaps now you understand why modern vampires choose to let the world remain in ignorance of the Blood Rose of Atlantis, and the Court Crimson. You must also realize that I make no friends of the undead in revealing these ancient mysteries.

An Historical Example of the Use of the Blood Rose of Atlantis:

To be revealed soon...