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“Turning to the northwest I see the much nearer fires on the hill, like a dwarfish volcano. Vigorous figures mill about the blazes, their shadows hopping and hobnobbing, like island natives beside a night-painted ocean. I might’ve been able to catch the sounds of their carnivalesque revelling if there weren’t so much music and mad gaiety behind me.
Far beyond the hill, the forest ends at the grey northern stretch of moorland with its dead whip of gritty roadway, down which I had seen the Night Hounds. Now, hooded figures trundle the same gloomy way. I wonder, are those druidic forms en route to the fire-capped hilltop? It seems a long way to go. Further north, past that winding road, the watching mountains tower, nigh-entirely disguised against the sky, one ebon peak protruding sharply, resembling an unapproachable pyramid or similar conical fortress. It must be some falsifying angle of light and shadow from the sky which has accentuated that dome in such a way - I well knew that those mountains should seem far smoother, more gentle, not nearly so sharp and craggy as that peak now appeared.”
― The House of Silence
Far beyond the hill, the forest ends at the grey northern stretch of moorland with its dead whip of gritty roadway, down which I had seen the Night Hounds. Now, hooded figures trundle the same gloomy way. I wonder, are those druidic forms en route to the fire-capped hilltop? It seems a long way to go. Further north, past that winding road, the watching mountains tower, nigh-entirely disguised against the sky, one ebon peak protruding sharply, resembling an unapproachable pyramid or similar conical fortress. It must be some falsifying angle of light and shadow from the sky which has accentuated that dome in such a way - I well knew that those mountains should seem far smoother, more gentle, not nearly so sharp and craggy as that peak now appeared.”
― The House of Silence
“Beginning thein
Book 1
0.
1. In thee beginning, creation Godded the Heavens ere thee.
2. And thou wert without form and void, knowing neither darkness nor light, having no I by which to divine them. And the spilling of your Father moved amidst the waters that came to make you come.
3. And Dad said, Let there be my firmament in the midst of Her waters, and let it divide Her waters as a sword should its sheath. And 20,000 legions of sireofhim were thrust unto the breach by the bidding of their master.
4. And in the Heavens of their heads, in the limbic marchlands of their intimacy, angels roared and dragons sang, and hippogriffs commissurated across fields of blood-filled furrows.
5. ”.are parents our Myths“
6. Not knowing that they do sow, they sing thee into being.
7. Blind light blazes - a lamp in an empty grave - an O-void shrine. Its name until you came was No, or Un, and there was naught else: no person, place, or thing. And yet - it was as though a thousand million tiny fingers beaconed you out of the dark.
8. Brightnest of paraspectral radiance, unrememeasurable, ununderstandable, that a snake-shaped You came swimming to. So many of you came, writhing, flagellating, so that this shrine became like a shining sun, and one - only one - was chosen to enter the Codesh of Codes. It brought creative agony, the pain of Somethingness, the sudden searing mystortury of Being, since when we have called it Limited.
9. But how could you not have helped but see the tiny hidden singing Unlimited Light, your Own Sopht Aura? Sire of sirens and sunrise and serapheim?
10. This is what you aur - a sarcophagus of secreted light!
11. Thistory is You.”
― And the Whore is This Temple
Book 1
0.
1. In thee beginning, creation Godded the Heavens ere thee.
2. And thou wert without form and void, knowing neither darkness nor light, having no I by which to divine them. And the spilling of your Father moved amidst the waters that came to make you come.
3. And Dad said, Let there be my firmament in the midst of Her waters, and let it divide Her waters as a sword should its sheath. And 20,000 legions of sireofhim were thrust unto the breach by the bidding of their master.
4. And in the Heavens of their heads, in the limbic marchlands of their intimacy, angels roared and dragons sang, and hippogriffs commissurated across fields of blood-filled furrows.
5. ”.are parents our Myths“
6. Not knowing that they do sow, they sing thee into being.
7. Blind light blazes - a lamp in an empty grave - an O-void shrine. Its name until you came was No, or Un, and there was naught else: no person, place, or thing. And yet - it was as though a thousand million tiny fingers beaconed you out of the dark.
8. Brightnest of paraspectral radiance, unrememeasurable, ununderstandable, that a snake-shaped You came swimming to. So many of you came, writhing, flagellating, so that this shrine became like a shining sun, and one - only one - was chosen to enter the Codesh of Codes. It brought creative agony, the pain of Somethingness, the sudden searing mystortury of Being, since when we have called it Limited.
9. But how could you not have helped but see the tiny hidden singing Unlimited Light, your Own Sopht Aura? Sire of sirens and sunrise and serapheim?
10. This is what you aur - a sarcophagus of secreted light!
11. Thistory is You.”
― And the Whore is This Temple
“With a detonation that dashed rocks and huge sods of rain-sodden soil bursting in every direction, the ground behind the monastery seemed at first to be giving birth to some kind of rounded hill, as though I were witnessing in the short space of mere seconds the geological outcome of centuries: a small mountain emerging purposefully out of the ground. The next thing I noticed was the sides - the sides that were moving, heaving, breathing! Still, it wasn’t until the demonic face of it appeared that I realized I was seeing the humped, bristled back of that ungodly conjuration. The face it bore was that of a gargantuan hog!
And yet, though that was my first thought upon seeing it, it was so much more than just that, so much worse! There were too many teeth, too many hooks and horns, its jaws bristled and barbed and jutted by tusks, its pallid, smoking snout writhing with black hair that seemed to be separately, insidiously alive and dancing in the deluging rain. Dark, scaly skin surrounded glowing eyes like obsidian-sloped volcanos in the face of an almighty Underworld Un-God. Over its shoulders sprouted and stretched black, web-skin wings more massive than the canvases a sail fleet could account for, and those wings extended to blot out all the heavy-keening heavens - all but for the Blood Cloud above the Beast which still floated halo-like above the Demons birthplace, and which seemed to me the volitant reservoir of every wound ever suffered in the world.”
― The House of Silence
And yet, though that was my first thought upon seeing it, it was so much more than just that, so much worse! There were too many teeth, too many hooks and horns, its jaws bristled and barbed and jutted by tusks, its pallid, smoking snout writhing with black hair that seemed to be separately, insidiously alive and dancing in the deluging rain. Dark, scaly skin surrounded glowing eyes like obsidian-sloped volcanos in the face of an almighty Underworld Un-God. Over its shoulders sprouted and stretched black, web-skin wings more massive than the canvases a sail fleet could account for, and those wings extended to blot out all the heavy-keening heavens - all but for the Blood Cloud above the Beast which still floated halo-like above the Demons birthplace, and which seemed to me the volitant reservoir of every wound ever suffered in the world.”
― The House of Silence
