Categories > Original > Sci-Fi > Rhevireon: The Hermetic Elders of the Black Sun
Chapter V
ALETHEIA
March 23rd.
07:45 am, off a distance, stared he at the cab as it drove Hoyden away, the car had just dropped him off by the vast stairway that led up the colonnaded entrance of the private, Aletheia Institute of Transhumanist Development; erected on a rocky hill in the style of the Parisian Sacré Coeur, while constructed according to Art Deco principles the building took the trend to a whole new level. Vigilant at its entrance was the Lamassu, a prodigious statue of a human-headed bull, this hermaphrodite winged bull of Mesopotamia with its anthropomorphic visage of a bearded woman, glowered in the way of staffers and the packs of students attending, who briskly and synchronously took to the grand stairs as though they were elements of a soc-real propaganda poster, attired in sternly fashioned ebony-colored uniforms, with iron-woggled blue-stripped neckerchiefs, the rigorously self-disciplined all-male students strutted off on cycles of politically charged patriotic speeches by Forefathers of the Greater Occidento-Zentrum State, six days a week, one hour a day, conveyed into ears via a loudspeaker niched inside the gaping snout of the Lamassu, the alma mater of the prestigious institute, its godmother, posed before the building’s façade on high above which the aphorism enchased in jade, a riddle, read:
There are two sisters: one gives birth unto the other
and she in turn, gives birth to the first.
Who are the sisters?
That was the mantra, the sort of mind manipulation to only work with people, exhibiting signs of amour-propre, and that’s the rule of collective identity, shared by those who toppled the pecking order.
The Aletheia Institute of Transhumanist Development, a post-graduate research academy, drew to its ranks legions from four quarters of the globe, best of the best; the idea behind the school was that of an extremely competitive educational environment where only those with exceptional hold of character, higher than average intelligence were accepted, a place where no physical flaw was tolerated. Half-breeds out of consideration, exclusively full-blooded only male human candidates, no less than twenty-three years of age no older than twenty-seven, from all nations and ethnicities were qualified for admission, on condition they underwent the intensive fortnight entrance exams, brutal examination, mental and physical, that at times led to the immediate elimination of all competitors, resulting in a gap in said freshman years.
Education at the Aletheia was free of charge, all expenses were covered by the institute itself, no distinction was made between Juneautonuan citizens and admitted international students. Graduates of the institute were destined to lead the next phase of human evolution, intellectually and physically; they were entrusted with the Elders’ vision of an ultra-human type, to release their vision of a superior animal, in their image carved.
“Ode to the Numinous Star, considered by many scholars to be a milestone of the Lex Aurvanthilis, pinnacle of the gnosis, an idea scratching the stratospheric regions of enlightenment, towards our universal salvation. Last chapter of the book, the ode chronicles the godhead, the Arkhitekton, divulging the word to His hierophant, the word of the dire portents before the end time and the palingenesis of all, when the microcosm unites with the macrocosm, the Atman with the Brahman, to bring balance back to this world of conflicting dualities, of the insane and sane, the dream and reality, the lie and truth, the ethereal and corporeal, the female and male, the destroyer and builder, the antimatter and matter.” Said Dr. Ruvelhart, he paused, supped a glass of milkshake he then carried on, “the ode in its entirety, being written in two parts, with dactylic hexameter scaling its beginning before it swiftly climaxes, and in unison wanes then in complexity, as the anapaestic tetrameter brings it to a close with a dimeteric foot. We are given no inkling as of why this scheme of rhythm embedded in quantitative meter was abode by, albeit, its uniqueness is indeed reserved not for its meter, but outstretches that to its overall unprecedented structure, for these stanzas were put together in a particular arrangement, only from bottom and so upward these lines ought to be read, an arrangement where the inverted ode stands like a spire thrust into the sky, pointing to the falling one; a Tower of Babel, verse after verse, we are elevated higher and higher athwart the unfolding thirty-three stairs of wisdom, the last stanza told in three different tongues, is left unfinished, which serves, if you acquire the right tools to see, a lofty purpose, in the lateral sense.” Dr. Ruvelhart, Dusk’s professor, further elaborated. A ponytailed partially baldpated man, who clearly suffered from premature baldness, whenever would he make a remark, he’d go brushing off his inches-long beard, out of an old habit to diverge attention away from the patch.
Standing at the rostrum, behind him was an isopsephic character map tagged on an interactive board; Professor Ruvelhart holding spin of the holy writ flat open, he read, the last line was the beginning, his reading was prosaic, and his voice, his voice had a sonorous undertone to it.
Scientia solus potentia est.
Beguiled! Nether-world in schmaltz-fest;
Aber da, ich trotzdem nicht erkenne dich echt selbst!
In forlorn Apathana.
Bonfires of anoint’d martyrs on thy dawning past of arcana.
Lichened scrolls in yon grove, aglow caverns of arches;
O’er mount haggard, sheer crags, stone-stepped marshes
Arise! Initiated ones of yore, unto whence had come the fire,
Thereat redeem’d Apathana.
Misled the burgeoning gale into her barrow tomb.
But gone’s gone, and life only doth what’s to be done;
And now the e’en tides guided the forenoon,
For she never knew what’d she gotten until it was gone;
Thereat castigat’d Apathana.
O for the betrothed! Foreordain’d to gallous death ridden.
Scrambling rocks, hauled by war pigs goading heriots;
Athwart ore of dales hollow, were their wheels hard riven,
Erst ye roads diverged, mount’d they skythed chariots,
Thereat culpable Apathana.
Kent the mysteries’ ruins ‘n didst toll the rosy bells.
Till forebears of thine aeon, maidens, suckled many a limb
The horse they sacrificed, sepulchered cremains into wells;
Bemused! Ledgemen beneath, on arc iridal etched thy hymn
Thereat miscreant Apathana.
Or Messidor! The month of lore, were there deans in fanciest miens.
On Nivose! Brotherly folks dwelt courts; timeworn their roots
Ne’er been touched twice a solstice, by ye all-seeing hand of men,
Begirt eclipse, son of luna and sol! Inaugurated the solemn moot
Thereat remember’d Apathana.
Yonder grove inscribed trove, lichened caverns of arches.
Maggots ‘n loam, grubbed carrions foretellers of the fall’n pagan
Onto mount haggard, sheer crags, stone-stepped marshes;
Bestride! Initiated ones of yore, o’er thy garden pillars laden,
LexAur 174:91
“Do you believe in God, their God, professor?” his question came unanticipated. Dusk whose seat occupied a secluded spot at the last raw in that lecture hall, summoned the prying eyes of many a student, sneaking a glimpse at this person who would challenge their master with such enquiry.
“This is a personal question,” waffled the professor, loath to respond, he nevertheless, under pressure from his own students grew bound to flesh it out expositing, “I don’t grasp the point behind positing such, but if you insist; it is in doubt of what I teach I want to believe, I’m an agnostic, Mr. Cezraef. I seek God, but I still not have found Him, their God.”
The Arkhitekton, the Absolute, the Elders’ God, in their own words, the Arkhitekton, chief builder of the universe by and according to laws of science and the occult. The Lex Aurvanthilis, LexAur, their scripture, which perpetuated the canonical texts of their faith, Aurvanthilism, the new Western religion, religion of the alien race, was at the core of the Aletheia’s curriculum.
The new faith established in the theocratic Occidental Regnum, practiced by the Eldersian communities there, when a syncretic movement branched out of this dualist cult soon arose among the human vassals of the Regnum, the peasants proselytized one another into the mechanical worship of the Arkhitekton; and the cult slowly made its way south to the human-ruled secular microstate of Juneauton Weltzentrum,
At present, Aurvanthilism had matured to pose a considerable threat to the ecumenical denominations of the entire northern hemisphere, and more broadly, to secular humanism.
10:08 am, Dusk leaned over the rooftop’s parapet, the Aletheia’s rooftop, a quite place he retreated to at the end of each class, remote from the teeming hallways of the school. Above him, the sun was wrestling herself out the herd of clouds of a rough-hewn nature. Beneath them, at the horizon, at the lip of Juneauton’s coastline, was the port, port of the Weltzentrum, tinged with a tremendous mantle of heather mixture, that spread along the container terminals amidst the mess of maritime trade.
At the other side of the rooftop, there was a girl, whenever she cast her sight afar the archipelago’s strand, at the deep blue, she’d the impression of it becoming frightener, wilder at the vanishing point. The girl gazed at the ocean liners and cargo ships transpiring from the abating gloom, tailed by the seabirds, and escorted by the skidding wave against wave the ships into the harbor ensconced themselves.
Dusk impulsively studied the tantalizing movements of this girl he never met before, rarely a woman of her sort was seen at the institute, she definitely was not a staff member, what was her secret? The girl pulled a hard packet out of her blazer, sleeves rolled up. She flipped up the top, sparked up one. At a random moment, a whiff from the icy shores fondled her cascading curly hair, when a broken beam flung out of the debilitating clouds, reacting to the cig’s smoke she exhaled, the sunlight befalling her tumbles of tresses gave them a tint of rust.
Dusk went smitten with what he’d just seen, an enchantress of provocative appeal, nipping at butt of the cigarette she caught a glance of him from across, and briefly they locked eyes.
To be continued.
ALETHEIA
March 23rd.
07:45 am, off a distance, stared he at the cab as it drove Hoyden away, the car had just dropped him off by the vast stairway that led up the colonnaded entrance of the private, Aletheia Institute of Transhumanist Development; erected on a rocky hill in the style of the Parisian Sacré Coeur, while constructed according to Art Deco principles the building took the trend to a whole new level. Vigilant at its entrance was the Lamassu, a prodigious statue of a human-headed bull, this hermaphrodite winged bull of Mesopotamia with its anthropomorphic visage of a bearded woman, glowered in the way of staffers and the packs of students attending, who briskly and synchronously took to the grand stairs as though they were elements of a soc-real propaganda poster, attired in sternly fashioned ebony-colored uniforms, with iron-woggled blue-stripped neckerchiefs, the rigorously self-disciplined all-male students strutted off on cycles of politically charged patriotic speeches by Forefathers of the Greater Occidento-Zentrum State, six days a week, one hour a day, conveyed into ears via a loudspeaker niched inside the gaping snout of the Lamassu, the alma mater of the prestigious institute, its godmother, posed before the building’s façade on high above which the aphorism enchased in jade, a riddle, read:
There are two sisters: one gives birth unto the other
and she in turn, gives birth to the first.
Who are the sisters?
That was the mantra, the sort of mind manipulation to only work with people, exhibiting signs of amour-propre, and that’s the rule of collective identity, shared by those who toppled the pecking order.
The Aletheia Institute of Transhumanist Development, a post-graduate research academy, drew to its ranks legions from four quarters of the globe, best of the best; the idea behind the school was that of an extremely competitive educational environment where only those with exceptional hold of character, higher than average intelligence were accepted, a place where no physical flaw was tolerated. Half-breeds out of consideration, exclusively full-blooded only male human candidates, no less than twenty-three years of age no older than twenty-seven, from all nations and ethnicities were qualified for admission, on condition they underwent the intensive fortnight entrance exams, brutal examination, mental and physical, that at times led to the immediate elimination of all competitors, resulting in a gap in said freshman years.
Education at the Aletheia was free of charge, all expenses were covered by the institute itself, no distinction was made between Juneautonuan citizens and admitted international students. Graduates of the institute were destined to lead the next phase of human evolution, intellectually and physically; they were entrusted with the Elders’ vision of an ultra-human type, to release their vision of a superior animal, in their image carved.
“Ode to the Numinous Star, considered by many scholars to be a milestone of the Lex Aurvanthilis, pinnacle of the gnosis, an idea scratching the stratospheric regions of enlightenment, towards our universal salvation. Last chapter of the book, the ode chronicles the godhead, the Arkhitekton, divulging the word to His hierophant, the word of the dire portents before the end time and the palingenesis of all, when the microcosm unites with the macrocosm, the Atman with the Brahman, to bring balance back to this world of conflicting dualities, of the insane and sane, the dream and reality, the lie and truth, the ethereal and corporeal, the female and male, the destroyer and builder, the antimatter and matter.” Said Dr. Ruvelhart, he paused, supped a glass of milkshake he then carried on, “the ode in its entirety, being written in two parts, with dactylic hexameter scaling its beginning before it swiftly climaxes, and in unison wanes then in complexity, as the anapaestic tetrameter brings it to a close with a dimeteric foot. We are given no inkling as of why this scheme of rhythm embedded in quantitative meter was abode by, albeit, its uniqueness is indeed reserved not for its meter, but outstretches that to its overall unprecedented structure, for these stanzas were put together in a particular arrangement, only from bottom and so upward these lines ought to be read, an arrangement where the inverted ode stands like a spire thrust into the sky, pointing to the falling one; a Tower of Babel, verse after verse, we are elevated higher and higher athwart the unfolding thirty-three stairs of wisdom, the last stanza told in three different tongues, is left unfinished, which serves, if you acquire the right tools to see, a lofty purpose, in the lateral sense.” Dr. Ruvelhart, Dusk’s professor, further elaborated. A ponytailed partially baldpated man, who clearly suffered from premature baldness, whenever would he make a remark, he’d go brushing off his inches-long beard, out of an old habit to diverge attention away from the patch.
Standing at the rostrum, behind him was an isopsephic character map tagged on an interactive board; Professor Ruvelhart holding spin of the holy writ flat open, he read, the last line was the beginning, his reading was prosaic, and his voice, his voice had a sonorous undertone to it.
Scientia solus potentia est.
Beguiled! Nether-world in schmaltz-fest;
Aber da, ich trotzdem nicht erkenne dich echt selbst!
In forlorn Apathana.
Bonfires of anoint’d martyrs on thy dawning past of arcana.
Lichened scrolls in yon grove, aglow caverns of arches;
O’er mount haggard, sheer crags, stone-stepped marshes
Arise! Initiated ones of yore, unto whence had come the fire,
Thereat redeem’d Apathana.
Misled the burgeoning gale into her barrow tomb.
But gone’s gone, and life only doth what’s to be done;
And now the e’en tides guided the forenoon,
For she never knew what’d she gotten until it was gone;
Thereat castigat’d Apathana.
O for the betrothed! Foreordain’d to gallous death ridden.
Scrambling rocks, hauled by war pigs goading heriots;
Athwart ore of dales hollow, were their wheels hard riven,
Erst ye roads diverged, mount’d they skythed chariots,
Thereat culpable Apathana.
Kent the mysteries’ ruins ‘n didst toll the rosy bells.
Till forebears of thine aeon, maidens, suckled many a limb
The horse they sacrificed, sepulchered cremains into wells;
Bemused! Ledgemen beneath, on arc iridal etched thy hymn
Thereat miscreant Apathana.
Or Messidor! The month of lore, were there deans in fanciest miens.
On Nivose! Brotherly folks dwelt courts; timeworn their roots
Ne’er been touched twice a solstice, by ye all-seeing hand of men,
Begirt eclipse, son of luna and sol! Inaugurated the solemn moot
Thereat remember’d Apathana.
Yonder grove inscribed trove, lichened caverns of arches.
Maggots ‘n loam, grubbed carrions foretellers of the fall’n pagan
Onto mount haggard, sheer crags, stone-stepped marshes;
Bestride! Initiated ones of yore, o’er thy garden pillars laden,
LexAur 174:91
“Do you believe in God, their God, professor?” his question came unanticipated. Dusk whose seat occupied a secluded spot at the last raw in that lecture hall, summoned the prying eyes of many a student, sneaking a glimpse at this person who would challenge their master with such enquiry.
“This is a personal question,” waffled the professor, loath to respond, he nevertheless, under pressure from his own students grew bound to flesh it out expositing, “I don’t grasp the point behind positing such, but if you insist; it is in doubt of what I teach I want to believe, I’m an agnostic, Mr. Cezraef. I seek God, but I still not have found Him, their God.”
The Arkhitekton, the Absolute, the Elders’ God, in their own words, the Arkhitekton, chief builder of the universe by and according to laws of science and the occult. The Lex Aurvanthilis, LexAur, their scripture, which perpetuated the canonical texts of their faith, Aurvanthilism, the new Western religion, religion of the alien race, was at the core of the Aletheia’s curriculum.
The new faith established in the theocratic Occidental Regnum, practiced by the Eldersian communities there, when a syncretic movement branched out of this dualist cult soon arose among the human vassals of the Regnum, the peasants proselytized one another into the mechanical worship of the Arkhitekton; and the cult slowly made its way south to the human-ruled secular microstate of Juneauton Weltzentrum,
At present, Aurvanthilism had matured to pose a considerable threat to the ecumenical denominations of the entire northern hemisphere, and more broadly, to secular humanism.
10:08 am, Dusk leaned over the rooftop’s parapet, the Aletheia’s rooftop, a quite place he retreated to at the end of each class, remote from the teeming hallways of the school. Above him, the sun was wrestling herself out the herd of clouds of a rough-hewn nature. Beneath them, at the horizon, at the lip of Juneauton’s coastline, was the port, port of the Weltzentrum, tinged with a tremendous mantle of heather mixture, that spread along the container terminals amidst the mess of maritime trade.
At the other side of the rooftop, there was a girl, whenever she cast her sight afar the archipelago’s strand, at the deep blue, she’d the impression of it becoming frightener, wilder at the vanishing point. The girl gazed at the ocean liners and cargo ships transpiring from the abating gloom, tailed by the seabirds, and escorted by the skidding wave against wave the ships into the harbor ensconced themselves.
Dusk impulsively studied the tantalizing movements of this girl he never met before, rarely a woman of her sort was seen at the institute, she definitely was not a staff member, what was her secret? The girl pulled a hard packet out of her blazer, sleeves rolled up. She flipped up the top, sparked up one. At a random moment, a whiff from the icy shores fondled her cascading curly hair, when a broken beam flung out of the debilitating clouds, reacting to the cig’s smoke she exhaled, the sunlight befalling her tumbles of tresses gave them a tint of rust.
Dusk went smitten with what he’d just seen, an enchantress of provocative appeal, nipping at butt of the cigarette she caught a glance of him from across, and briefly they locked eyes.
To be continued.
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