Facets of Darkness

by Taqar at Awil

Our land of Shedom is eternally scorched by a cruel Sun.

This we have come to accept, having been born under the cruel whims of our tormentor above, and having lived so far under his burning gaze.

Yet our benevolent father forever returns, at night, to cast his blanket of succor over our parched skins, throats, and minds. After a day of toil spent in torture, the Black One comes to reward us. The day becomes still, and covered in darkness. A reminder of the beckoning silence of the Far Beyond.

Why does he do this? Because we are his chosen people, perhaps, even though some of my brethren would jump at my throat were I to exclaim that in their presence. We do horrible things, it is true - but what is the application of will unto the world after having let it make us suffer so? We do what we do because we can. It is the law of our people.

This one thinks that the Black One has chosen to bless us due to one of his cyclical whims, for during his never-ending existence, he has surely chosen to comfort far more people than only our accursed race. You might detect a strange tone in my writing, for it almost seems as if my thoughts are against my people.

In truth, they are. I love my kin as much as I hate them. I feel revulsion at our lives, yet have come to see disdain as pleasure, for it feeds the baser senses which our father below gifted to us when we first emerged from the Far Beyond. Engorging on emotion is a most primal experience.

This is another one of the Black One's blessings, for it allows us to power the art which allows us to shape the materia that surrounds us. It is with willpower and emotions such as jealousy or anger that a sorcerer can summon demons from the Far Beyond or fling balls of blackened crackling energy at their enemies. We have been infused with the essence of the Black One, and it has been so ever since our settling.

Our father is worshipped in many ways by all of the myriad of cultures our homeland encompasses. The Shedomites are hardly a united people, for we are all descended from the lost nomads of ages past, yet have come to grow farther and farther away from each other as a circumstance of our surroundings and our histories.

To some of the nomads who still roam the deserts surrounding our city-states, he is called the Nightbringer, and is the master of beasts, for they are rightly scared of the nightly manifestations of the tenebrous hounds that are scouring the land for unbelievers to devour.

In other corners, the dark wisps that cover certain areas seemingly at random are worshipped as the very presence of the Black One, while the taught ones of the cities on the shores of the ocean see them nothing more as natural manifestations of the black energy that emanates from the ground.

The wise Qabalist understands that the dark father is everywhere, and all is passed down from him. Once you understand this secret, you will come to see the world as different, and everything will make sense. It is only a matter of revelation.