Genesis... the Inception
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And said the Lord unto his Lady...
"Then let us make them in our own image; male and female shall we create them from the clay. For never were such beings born that did not exhalt their makers and we shall be feared as gods."
"Truly. And we shall bless them with every good thing. With power and beauty and stature will they be blessed as gods do bestow upon their chosen. We shall love them as Masters love, and make of them suitable footservants and handmaidens and ambassadors unto our glory, for they shall glorify us, even in the eye of the spiteful sun."
"She that hates us and our offspring with unreasonable passion. She does burn away the night and that which thrives in the night, tho' it is the dark which allows her to shine, for without darkness what use is there of light? I say to you, sister and lover, this clay shall be bold and brazen, proudly will it walk forth into that bright face, and into her thoughtless glare, and it shall not turn to dust, to ashes which scatter on the wind."
"Our own son has rebuked us. He who can bear the day has disowned us; he has turned his countenance away and given himself over to a new Father, and he adores a new Brother. They protect him, whilst our firstborn must yet shun the lighttime and fear her wrathful vindication, priding herself on reducing our household."
"In our image was our son, but in our likeness shall be the next generation, purchased and won not with ichor but our own precious blood, and we shall own each of them through the lifestuff in their veins, that never may they separate themselves from our love, but keep it always. In this manner shall we never forsake them."
"As it is of clay's nature shall they question themselves. They shall seek the cornerstone of their existence, they shall knock on all doors. In such a way will they honor us; with such devotion shall they flatter us and their adoration will be treasured up in our hearts and returned unto them tenfold."
"As the mind of clay fears and hates strange things, hunts down and overthrows greater things and seeks to reduce items of value and power, so also will our treasures be hunted down, sought after. Unjust suffering is of the sweetest kind and their distress shall bring us joy. Their anguish will be our delight. They will march into battle to slay eachother and plot against one another, for ever has those of such gifts, so blessed as we will make them, felt compelled to victor over one another and establish an order."
"Their pains will be unto us as water, and their confusion shall be as our bread. For stolen waters are sweet, and bread eaten in secret is pleasant."
"In the dark places shall we wait, in the shadows shall we watch. And the time will come when we do reach out our hands to stroke their faces; as Masters shall we touch them, and they will know us. But hidden, shall they not find us, shrouded, they will overlook us and see us not. And their plight, their bitter frustration, will provide gentle amusement."
"Their struggles like fattened calf, grief likened unto the finest wines, turmoil as the clouds fat with rain, which evetually breaks open to nourish the parched soil below or floods the desert sands."
"They will fill us to over-brimming; our cups shall run over and as gracious Masters will we allocate our firstborn to be shephards, to tend the flocks and shear their lamb's wool whilst we delight in the profit, they shall reap that which we sow, and our storehouses will be thick with fruit. And we shall pit them, one against the other; brother against sister, father against daughter, cousin against cousin, mothers and sons, and they shall glorify us with burnt offerings, with blood sacrifices, in which we find great pleasure."
"Aye, brother and most beloved. Their screams will be as music, as the plucking of harp or lyre. In this reasoning, let us clash what is natural and of this realm with what is unnatural, foreign and alien, allowing of the supernal, which is natural but unseen, invisible to the visible, untouchable to the tangible, to be Gamesmaster, for we play now against she who despises our essence, and both our courts shall be the arena. Let us strike back at the sun in righteous vengeance for soft, pale night."
"In accordance to you whims, sweet sister, shall it be done, for your will is ever my delight and your pleasure a stroke against my innermost being. Clay against clay, one favoured by light, one by darkness. Let our horns become entangled. Let the games begin..."
**As recorded by the House Scribe, Balshazzar
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