Ole' Time Religion

Author: Sera Kor-Azor

Original post: https://evesession.wordpress.com/2015/11/19/ole-time-religion/

Entry for the YC117 Pod and Planet Fiction Contest in the A Day in the Life category.

The cloudy mist of the holo-projector forms into the defined, luminescent shapes of a pair of comedy and tragedy masks. A three dimensional projection of the words ‘Has been Heroes’ smashes through the masks as though they were made of glass. The background theme of ‘Has-been heroes’ blasts through the speakers. The voice over narration introduces the show. “Welcome to this episode of ‘Has been Heroes’. This is the show where we find out where yesterday’s heroes and celebrities are and what they are doing today.” The camera descends towards two impossibly attractive smiling young hosts, comfortably seated in comfortable chairs. The narrator booms out “With your hosts, Aurner Ignaught and Zanie Tuvolian.” The slick haired, chiseled jaw Aurner smiles, then turns towards his blond and well-proportioned smiling female co-host.

Aurner slaps his knee as he laughs heartily, turning to Zanie who is also laughing. “Tonight on ‘Has-been Heroes’, we find out what happened to ‘Quaram’, that delightful Gallente child actor who touched so many of our hearts all those years ago. Who could ever forget his sad little face in the scene from the invasion of Gallente Prime? So moving. So heartwarming.”

Zanie grins sadistically. “Where is he now?”

Aurner chuckles. “Ah, well he had a little problem with drug addiction and debt. Today he is a security guard at an anti-gravity mini-golf planetside.”

Zanie looks at the screen, her beautiful face split in a wide open grin. “Ahhh! Looh-ser!” She starts laughing hysterically, and the studio audience starts laughing as well.

“But first, this just in.” A striped sausage like multi legged creature appears between Zanie and her host, growing in size. “Exo-zoologists at the University of Caille were delighted at the first live birth of the variegated duciplet in nearly a century.” The wriggling, worm like creature is suddenly joined by other wiggling, worm like creatures. “Once thought to be extinct, the variegated duciplet was brought back through genetic manipulation and the help of a surrogate mother. Here she is with her first litter of pups.”

Aurner and Zanie casually turned their chairs to witness a large striped sausage like creature dangling in the air between them. As the creature writhed and squirmed, other smaller white sausage like creatures wiggled up to it to feed. There was a squealing and sucking sound permeating the background.

“Aren’t they adorable?” Zanie cooed. The audience cooed as well.

Aurner turns from his profile position to face the camera. His eyes were warm, his face beaming with pride. It was almost as though he himself was the father of the creatures floating behind his head. “Next on our list of celebrity has beens, we have little Soapy Sera. Who could forget that adorable little ‘Soapy Sera’? She was the child star who featured at the instructional advertigrams at every sink and fountain in the Kor-Azor region. Later she went on to star in the ‘Sister Sera’s Sunshine and special snowflake hour.’

Zanie beamed. “Where is she today?”

Aurner steepled his fingers, grinning as he leaned back in his chair. “Well, her mother tried to take Lord Aritico Kor-Azor to court over a paternity suit. Her mother lost the case, and now Sera’s a Nun!”

Zanie’s eyes went wild with sadistic glee, her face dropped open in a wide grin. “Ahh! Haah! Looh-ser!” Zanie started slapping her own thighs in laughter. This was her catch phrase. Her audience laughed as well.

Aurner is laughing as well. He clutches his stomach as he steadies himself. “Well, as you might understand we have had a little trouble getting into the secretive Amarrian empire with our crew. The footage we have tonight comes to us from Neten Renfrew. He was a former student at the University of Conoban. So tell us Neten, what’s been happening at the University?”

The man pauses for a moment, waiting for his radio signal. “Well, it all started to happen after a video some of us took started to go viral on the Galnet. It was during the time of the lunar eclipse. I thought, ‘What a great time to get a camera drone out and film it’, you know? Well, anyways, we went to the rooftop outside of the Crystal Cathedral. That’s when I saw this Nun going onto the rooftop and doing some sort of ceremony.”

Zanie and Aurner both look at each other. “A Ceremony?”

Neten nods. “Yeah! A ceremony! Well, I don’t really follow the Amarrian religion myself so I was interested. What kind of a ceremony do Amarrians usually do at night during an eclipse? So I sent my camera drone over to investigate.”

Zanie and Aurner both nod sagely. The image of a camera drone begins hovering over their heads, rotating like a snowflake. The words ‘Golden Beetle’ floats above the spinning image, while the ‘Lai-Dei’ float in green neon letters below it. “Tell us about the drone.”

Neten pauses again. (Perhaps there is a delay in the signal.) “The drone I use is called ‘Golden beetle’. It replicates local insectoid life and is small enough to fit into the palm of your hand. I sent the drone over to capture this ceremony. I thought it would offer an interesting insight into Amarrian religion. Who would have known that the Nun would turn out to be little soapy Sera Kor-Azor? Talk about a stroke of luck!”

Zanie and Aurner nod and smile in agreement. “Well, let’s take a look.”

The whole screen is replaced with a dark deep blue mist, then some black outlines. The infrared heat pattern of a woman in a Nun’s outfit comes into focus. Her face seems to glow with red and orange colours, contrasting to the dark blues and greens around her.

The voice of Neten chimes in. “I had to use the infrared setting because it was dark out.”

The camera drone follows the woman into a room where birds are kept. We hear the cooing of dozens of birds, as well as the distinctive outline of these more cold blooded creatures. The woman takes one of these birds from it’s cage, and begins lovingly stroking it.

“Oh Zhara, you were always my favourite! You know that don’t you? That’s why I gave you all the special grain and special treatment? Do you know why I gave you all those special little treats and special treatment? It was because you were Mama’s little favourite! That’s why!”

The woman makes soothing cooing noises as the cradles the bird in the crook of her arm, stroking it. She carries it to a rectangular black object, and places the bird on top. There is a brief glare, and a new white spot appears on the screen. The white spot dances and flickers, as though it was a live flame. The woman takes this white glare in her hand, walking with it in what seems like a circle.

The woman’s voice booms out. “I consecrate this space with fire!”

The woman returns the white sparking object, placing it back onto the black pedestal. At this point, she seems to light a stick on fire. From the infrared spectrum, the smoke from the ignited object trickled upwards through the air in a heat stream of pink and red.

The Nun takes this burning stick and walks around in a circle again. “I consecrate this space with air!”

The woman approaches a bowl upon a tripod. She thrusts the burning stick into it, where they extinguish with a hissing sound. She takes the tripod within the crook of her arm, and walks around in a circle with it.

She sprinkles the water from the bowl by dipping and flicking her fingers. “I consecrate this space with the sacred waters!”

Next, the woman picks up a smaller bowl. She walks around in a circle again, tossing what seems like a granular substance on the ground. “I consecrate this space with this circle of salt!” The woman approaches the black pedestal again, and seems to put the bowl upon it. She takes up the bird with both hands, lifting it above her head. Then, with a hooked knife, she slits the bird’s throat as she holds it’s feet. She takes the bird by the feet and moves it vigorously, motioning in rhythmic, ritual patterns. Judging by her movements, she would seem to be coating the entire pedestal with the spurting blood of the dying bird.

Still holding the bird, the woman traces a star like shape into the air before her as the corpse spurts blood. “I consecrate this space with the element of spirit!”

The dead bird is then placed back on top of the pedestal. What looks and sounds like a knife is drawn, a thin pointy stiletto blade. The knife is used to cut into the dead bird, and the woman removes the entrails of the animal. She holds these entrails up, as if in offering, then she places them in what seems like specific containers upon the pedestal.

The camera cuts back to Zanie. She has a rather puzzled look on her face. In fact, her pretty little face is twisted up like a pretzel. “I don’t mean to sound rude, but is that what most Amarrians do? It’s just that, I don’t know, but I think that anything involving dead birds is pretty weird.”

“Very weird!” confirmed Aurner, nodding.

The whiny voice of Neten interjects. “The lighting gets better in this next part!”

Aurner nods. He turns to his editor and mimes slashing his throat with his finger. He mouths the words “Let’s cut to a commercial.”

The holoscreen is now replaced with what looks like a tropical island. In the middle of the screen, a huge bottle of Quafe sits on the beach. The word ‘Nouveau’ appears above the bottle, with the word ‘Cheriese’ appearing at the bottom. The bottle is red, and two large spherical objects, presumably cherries, have been attached to the bottom of the bottle.

The narrator’s voice announces the product. ‘Nouveau Quafe, c’est gout cheriese!”

A pretty brunette woman in a bikini appears. ‘Mon Cheri!’ A blond woman in a bikini appears on the other side of the bottle, pouting and stamping her foot. ‘Non! MON Cheri!’ The two bikini women laugh as they rub up and stroke against the side of the bottle, the top of the bottle explodes with an animated cloud of cherries. The two bikini women giggle and laugh as they hug the bottle, holding out their tongues in hopes of catching the delicious cascading fountain of cherry flavoured beverage.

The narrator’s voice corresponds to the screen text. “Nouveau Quafe, c’est gout cheriese!”

Zanie and Aurner sit comfortably in their studio chairs, beaming with a smug sense of superiority. “Well, what do you think of that, eh? Poor little soapy Sera! She never could make it in the showbiz world, so now she joins a Convent! What do you think? Hilarious! Boy, what a loser!”

Right on cue, Zanie turns to the camera and laughs. “I know right? Looh-ser! Hah hah hah! Ah hah hah hah haa haa haa!” The audience laughs along with her.

Zanie and Aurner turn to watch the two dimensional projection again. This time, the room is lit with candlelight. We can see the Nun’s face a little more clearly. “Now who is this? Is this little Sera?” asks Aurner. Neten nods. “Yes, now she is one of the Nuns that lives in the Cathedral. It sounds like she went a little weird though. She started saying that she was the Countess of this campus. She went into the Crystal Cathedral, and demanded sanctuary. So, I thought they just kind of locked her up. I guess not though.”

Sera the Nun, now surrounded by candlelight, sits with her eyes closed on a meditation cushion in a cross legged position. After a moment, she rises from her position. She pulls a stiletto dagger from it’s sheath and holds it outstretched before her. Slowly, carefully, she walks in a wide circle around the central pedestal which is covered in candles.

As she walks she starts chanting. “As I circle, spiral circle, DNA or orbit circle, so I weave the cosmic thread, as planet patterns mindful read, growing in size, expanding in power, now over the sun and moon I tower.”

The solarized image of the Nun shuffles slowly across the screen, in and out of view as she circles the central pedestal. “Over the system, and to the next star, outgrowing the constellation by far. An infinite growth beyond galaxy size, my body fills the cosmic eyes. Yet, above and beyond our heads shines the infinite and limitless light. Indeed, the infinite and limitless light of your being, from which all creation is formed. May your light guide us and not blind us, Amen!”

The Nun then points the dagger above her head. She pulls the point of it down, pointing at the spot directly between her eyes. She sings out in a booming voice.

“Aaaaaahh Taaaaaaaaaah!”

She then points the dagger at her feet. “Mhaaaaaaaaaaal Koooooooooooot!”

Next, she moves the dagger across herself from her left to right. “Viiiiiii Giboooooo Raaaaaaaaaaaaaah!”

Then, she moves the dagger from her right to her left. “Viiiiii Gedooooo Laaaaaaaaah!”

At this point, she presses her palms together over the blade of the dagger. “Liiii Mooooeee Laaaaam, Aaaaameeen!”

Sera then steps away from the pedestal , standing to the east side of it. With the point of her dagger, she makes strait, exaggerated lines as she traces the outline of a star. Holding her elbows out and pointing her fingers, she steps forwards suddenly as though breaking through the invisible barrier she has just created.

“Yood Hay Wow Heh!” She booms these words out from her belly.

Moving in a semi-circle, Sera makes her way to the northernmost point of her space. She draws a pentacle in front of her, and then steps through it just as before. “Ahh-doh-Nye!” She booms out.

She continues west, drawing out the imaginary pentacle with her dagger and then stepping through it. She inhales into her lungs deeply, seeming to resonate with the pronunciation of each word. “Eh-Heh-Yeh”. She faces north, and draws the imaginary pentacle in the air again.

She steps through, and sings out In a melodic resounding tone, “Ahh-Glahh.”

In the candlelight, her dimly lit face is smiling. Her eyes are skyward as her hands lift the entrails of the dead bird towards the camera drone. The camera looks behind it, and scans the image of a humanoid figure.

The humanoid figure, a caricature, has the head of a bird, and legs that become snakes. The figure wields a whip in one hand, and a shield in the other, while riding a vehicle pulled by four quadrupeds. The camera then turns back around, watching as the smiling woman offers up the bird entrails to the figure.

Sera holds up the bird entrails to this figure. “I pledge service to you, Oh Lord Abraxis, and offer up a sacrifice in your honour.”

“Chick’s a freak.” Aurner mumbles this quietly into his fist, but the microphones pick it up anyways. Zanie smacks him in the shoulder with the back of her hand. The camera drone looks down upon the face of the Nun. One of her eyes is artificial, the other seems glassy and distant, as if in a far off trance. “I have sacrificed my favourite pigeon unto you, in your honour, oh great and powerful Lord. Now, I would ask you to look favourably upon my workings of magic this day.”

Sera then takes a doll, roughly formed. She holds it between the palms of her hands, slowly rubbing it.

“I ask you, Oh Lord Abraxis, Lord of Lords, God of Gods, high heavenly host most manifest and holy, to assist your servant Sera Kor-Azor with the invocation of the first of the high heavenly manifestations of the ninety nine interpretations of your most sacred name. He is the fourth of the Archangels, and the Seraphim of the Sephiroth of Gee-boo-rah upon the sacred tree of the Kah-bah-lah. I ask for the guidance and protection of Mee-chai-el to from the nether region of the Qliporeth.”

The Nun stares into the bowl of water placed upon the altar, in a deep trance. There seems to be an odd rippling effect in the air, and a scintillating purple light reflects upon her face. She takes the dagger, and cuts her own thumb. She lets the blood drop onto the crudely formed doll. There seems to be human hair and fingernails attached to the doll. She uses some sort of twine to fasten the entrails from the dead bird onto the doll. She adds some plant like material to the doll as well. She then begins to carve a peculiar symbol onto a disk of wood, and binds this to the doll as well.

She scoops up the doll and holds it up to the peculiar figure, then turns ninety degrees and lifts it up to the full moon. It is a rare astrological activity, an Autumn moon, a so called ‘blood moon’, and on the same night as the lunar eclipse.

The woman holds the doll up to the moon. “I ask you, Oh Lord Abraxis, consider this poppet as the form of the false Empress, she known as Jamyl Sarum. Jamyl Sarum, the breaker of codes. Indeed, Jamyl Sarum, the infidel.”

There is the whistling sound of the wind, then a pause. “ It is written that the Imperial flesh shall never be cloned. Yeah, has the Sarum broken the ancient covenant and introduced foreign ideas and greater Liberalism into the Empire. Yeah, has the Sarum released the slaves into their seventh generation, thus depriving the holders of their opportunity for spiritual guidance over those slaves. Those freed inferior breed minmatar slaves will now be competing for jobs with commoners of pure Amarrian racial stock. There is race mixing and chaos. The empire is crumbling. All of it can be traced back to the breaking of the taboo of the doctrine of the sacred flesh.”

As Sera speaks, the lunar eclipse goes through all phases. A black cloud crosses the surface of the moon. “I ask you, Oh Seraphim of the Sephiroth, to send your servants to dispatch of the false Empress known as Sarum. Let there be no trace of her corpse. Let there be no fresh clones for her. She, the false Empress and servant of Molock the deceiver! Let her no more deceive!”

Sera tosses the doll into a brazier. The doll ignites quickly, soon disappearing in smoke and ash. “Oh holy and most righteous Seraphim, take the Sarum from this Sephiroth of Mahl-koot and deliver her not unto the Kether of the limitless light of the Ain Soph, but deliver her unto the dark roots of the tree of life, the unformed realm of the Qliphoreth. Amen.”

Sera looks up from her bowl of water, a crazed expression on her face. “Already has the cosmic machinery been set into motion! Already has it started to happen! The slaves, falsely released, shall be brought back into the bonds of blessed servitude! Already the pendulum is swinging back from the Sephiroth of Chesed and back towards the Sephiroth of the Geh-boo-rah. Once again, it is demonstrated in plain view for all to see why the Minmatar must be held in embonded servitude for their own spiritual benefit. See how they behave when they have been prematurely released? How they cry out for discipline! See how their backs beg to once again feel the lash!”

Sera clenches her fists, screaming out in fury and anger. A tear seems to fall from her one good eye. “Let the will of the one true God make itself manifest through the Sephiroth of the Ka-bah-lah! Let it manifest though Kether, through Chesed, through Geh-boo-rah, and through all the Sephiroth. Let the manifestation of the Ain Soph come through the path of the serpent, instead of the path of the arrow.”

Sera’s face seems puffy now, bloated from crying. “Let my own desires be made manifest through the practice of my most holy craft. Let those images upon the Astral and Ethereal become manifest to my will here in the Sephiroth of Mahl-koot. Return to me my Noble and rightful title of Countess over this place.”

Sera holds out the palm of her hand, flat, as though presenting it to a biometrics scanner. She parts two fingers on either side right down the middle, forming a ‘V’. With her thumb out at the side, her hand looks like a ‘W’.

“Let it also be known that the sixth symbol has been known and discovered. Let it be known what the sixth symbol is. Shin.”

As she says this, the flames of the candles seem to fork off into three parts.

Sera raises her arms above her head, making a ‘V’ shape. She moves her arms to make the signs of the other sacred letters, as well, L and X.

“May the Sarum be removed, and may the rightful personage of Lord Aritico ascend upon the Imperial throne. May the benevolence and guidance of Lord Aritico deliver the true Amarrians once again into the Golden ages of our Empire. Amen.”

At this point, she picks up a bell from the altar and rings it, facing the four cardinal directions. “The spell is complete. I ask the guardians of the east, go and depart in peace. Guardians of the North, go and depart in peace, guardians of the south, depart in peace. Guardians of the west, depart in peace.”

The light becomes dimmer as candles are extinguished. The screen is dark for a moment, then forked lightning cracks across the sky. The Nun is seen hastily packing things up and running inside as the precipitation starts.

The camera cuts to Aurner and Zanie, who just sit and stare at each other for a moment in dazed amazement. Reflexively, Aurner smiles at the camera.

“Wow! Okay, that was some weird kinda stuff. I don’t know anything about the Amarrian religion, so could we get an Amarrian expert in here please? “

The face of an Amarrian man appears on a two dimensional screen between the two television hosts. There seems to be beads of moisture, perhaps condensation upon his face. His eyes seem a little wild. The name ‘Doctor Cherner Mough’ appears at the bottom of the screen.

Aurner leans back and turns his head sideways, as though he were addressing the hologram in person. “Doctor Mough, could you help explain a little of what has happened here for us please?”

The man stammers a little bit. “Well you see, what has happened here is that Sera Kor-Azor has just committed some of the most heretical and blasphemous acts within the Amarrian religion. She has not only insulted the Empress, but actually actively wished for her death. This is a crime almost unimaginable to most Amarrians. Merely insulting the Imperial family is a crime punishable by enslavement….worse yet, Sera is using ancient and forbidden religious rites in order to invoke celestial powers to her aid. No one has done anything like this since…since… Zaragram the mad.”

Aurner listens to this, considering. “What was that? Did you say that Sera could end up enslaved for this?” The Amarrian man nods slowly, curling his lip a little in delight at the thought.

Zanie turns to the camera, flashing her trademark big toothy grin for her expectant audience. They had been waiting for it, so now for her famous catch phrase …

“Ah-Hah! Loo-ser!”

The Audience laughs. Everytime.

Aurner puts on his stoic, serious facade as he once again interviews the nervous looking Amarrian. “So, Doctor Mough, you say that Sera has been practicing Ancient and forbidden Amarrian rites? Where would she get her hands on such information?”

Doctor Mough turns his eyes up and inwards, rubbing his chin as he thinks. “Sera spent much of her life in a Convent, studying the scriptures. This is not uncommon for those of noble lineage, especially if they are troublemakers or the black sheep of the family. The Amarrian Holy scriptures contains hundreds of thousands of volumes, more than one person could read in a lifetime. Some of these books are considered forbidden, ‘Apocrypha’. Naturally, organizations such as the Theological Council and the Order of St. Tetrimon try to find these forbidden texts and eliminate them, but it is an overwhelming task. Some Apocryphal texts still slip through the cracks.”

Aurner listens, nodding and frowning. “So what are these forbidden books called again? The ones you think Sera has been reading? Apocalypse?”

Doctor Mough smiles, chucking and shaking his head. “No, no, no. Heh heh. You are getting the name confused with the Amarrian battleship I’m afraid. It’s ‘Apocrypha’. Eh-pock-cree-pha.”

Suddenly, Zanie bolts up out of her seat, her eyes bulging in horror. She points off in the distance. “Apocalypse!” she screams.

Doctor Mough chuckles and smile. “No, no. It’s pronounced ‘Eh-pock-cree-pha’. I can understand if it’s a tough word. It means ‘Forbidden books’. The Apocalypse is an Amarrian battle…”

Aurner and Zanie’s faces begin simultaneously contorting in a silent scream. A ruby red light appears across the screen. Then there is nothing but static.