Salvation: A Templar's Quest for Redemption

by Mark Mihalko

  The sounds of torture call from below,

  ...Help me find the resolve; lead me to Baal.

  Canto IV -One Last Hope

  XIX

  The Weeping Sun

  Upon the land, Legion shall be reborn from the ashes, and all of humanity will suffer a great pestilence. From the wisdom of the pure, a spirit defiled by sin will rise; and the ultimate reaping will overtake Levant.

  (The Epistle of Anacletus to the Priory 6.13)

  Father, what have I done to deserve such torment?

  Have I not done enough to be redeemed? Were our sins that heinous?

  I stand before thee, humbled by your words,

  Yet, the plagued souls of the fallen remain,

  My faith is strong, still I pray for your strength to guide my blades,

  How long until I break this shroud of evil;

  To transcend this fractured dominion, and cleanse the souls of the intolerant,

  In my heart, I can feel your warmth pulsate through my veins,

  I am ready to face my true reality,

  Aamon was resilient, his malicious deeds legendary,

  Has he risen again, or has another escaped the depths of the Perditions lair?

  The signs rise from every corner, every abyss.

  Wickedness shrouds the light, and the Sun weeps,

  The final battle draws near.

  Father, why do the malefactors despise compassion?

  Do the souls of the pure outweigh the soulless? Will we ever be safe?

  XX

  The Legion of Evil Wanes

  As foretold at the beginning, the Nephilim fell, and the Sun, the Moon, and the Stars blinked as they fell into obscurity; darkness smiled upon Levant and the day shone naught for three phases, and sin overtook the garden.

  (The Epistle of Anacletus to the Priory 7.3)

  The warmth from the light calls to me,

  The power from the slaughtered souls will guide me,

  The foul stench of your minion will betray you,

  I am closing the distance with every step,

  And upon the altar, your reign of terror will end.

  Your powers are already growing weak,

  I can sense it, smell it,

  Lotan was no match for my sanctified mace,

  He seven heads wept, and begged for mercy, before I damned him back to Hell,

  And soon, you will join him to face eternity.

  You cannot win; your power is no match for the devout,

  Hugues regained his faith, and your revolting brothers cried,

  Now, through the rifts, the legion of evil wanes,

  Can you hear the clock? Is Hell calling you home?

  You cannot, will not survive.

  Resheph has fallen; again, my mace cleansed the virulent sinners,

  I can see you tremble, you are afraid,

  Hugues was right, you have grown; yet, you still have much to learn,

  You cannot defeat the Almighty,

  You will never rule the world.

  XXI

  Thunder Reigns’, Lightning Follows

  And the abhorrent hordes were given the power over humanity by the fallen one, and with their scythes, they drew blood, and with their eyes, they stole life; and through the torment of man, the dark shroud of sin hardened.

  (The Epistle of Anacletus to the Priory 7.7)

  Something is clearly wrong, but what is it,

  This smell is overwhelming, as the putrid pong of decay surrounds me,

  The blood, the bile, the intestines; another evil has risen from the pit,

  Carthage is under siege; I must set them free.

  The golden rays of deceit, Hugues, Hells salvation must be near,

  Evil signs overtake the soul,

  Eternal conflict lines Satan’s dreams, and legends cannot fear,

  Silence still, moralities’ enemies watch as sins take their toll.

  There I stand, and see, Baal rise at night,

  The fallen angel grows strong, and his reapers worse,

  His blade of sorrow steals a life, my faith shudders at his might,

  Questions I ponder deep, I must vanquish this curse.

  Thunder reigns’, lightning follows, as scarlet flows from flames of Molochs’ chambers,

  I can see my salvation, and our redemption, inside the black depths of his eyes.

  XXII

  Emotions Churn

  The redeemer spoke to the warrior, behold, evil shakes the foundations of the grand entrance as the innocents’ tremble. Fear naught, for the savior will be sheltered from damnation, as the black horse turns pale and the tentacles of the pyre reach for the righteous

  (The Epistle of Anacletus to the Priory 8.4)

  Father, why must my pain grow with every step?

  Will I have the fortitude to continue? Or have the strength to survive?

  Inside my battered shell, the swirling whirlpool of desperation grows,

  Covering my entrails with streaks of hopelessness,

  The unrest escalating outside is inconceivable,

  For Baal has conjured his minion, and my faith turns to fear,

  Lost, my emotions churn…

  … And the appendages long for my soul.

  I can see unknown realities transcend belief,

  Populating this disturbing world that has me enslaved,

  A heart full of wisdom,

  A mind full of questions,

  Unfulfilled deeds yet to be done…

  … And acts of depravity left in my wake,

  Desolation fuels my sorrow,

  Will I be strong enough to prevail?

  Or, will these rancid downpours drown my light?

  The veracities of despair ripen,

  Baal’s horde grows, infesting the fortress…

  … And melancholy engulfs my world.

  Father, how can you have faith in my actions, when I have naught faith in myself?

  How can your consecrated armors last, as my blood shivers from fright?

  XXIII

  Ascension

  And the visitor stood before the intolerant and professed, “Behold, I am a vessel of faith and through my faithfulness, my mortal flesh faced the temptation of sin and became one with the Lamb.” Fear naught in the depths of the lair; fidelity to the Lord will protect the righteous.

  (The Epistle of Anacletus to the Priory 8.7)

  Pillars of torment line the cavern,

  The reminders of Baal are everywhere,

  The carnage, the smoldering skin, and the infernal furnace ablaze with decadence,

  What does this throng of ignorance see inside this labyrinth?

  How could they curse their lineage to the bowels of Moloch?

  Is it for the crops, forgiveness, or is it something that I cannot yet comprehend?

  For them, I feel no pity, only disgust and hate,

  Their salvation can only be found within the blood of the lamb,

  Or possibly, from the contrition brought forth by my blades,

  The symphony of their pain would be magnificent,

  An angelic crescendo echoing throughout the corridors of Hell,

  Fire and brimstone enlightening the blackest crevices and darkest days,

  Behold the maggots as they fornicate before the effigy,

  Is it nature’s revenge, or just blindness to the Maker?

  Even their canon proclaims the savior will be born unto a virgin,

  And, like Lazarus rise from the dead,

  All of the testaments, prophecy, covenants-their stone tablets blazing with law,

  Nevertheless, they defile the Almighty, and disrespect the Word,

  Can you hear their shrieks call to me?

  The rancid smell of repugnant sin is unmistakable,

  Baal is near; his malevolent bouquet floods the darkened sanctum,

  The carcasses of the meek gasp for redemption within his lair,

  Their remains spawning in the fiery moat of pus surrounding the tomb,<
br />
  The churning tides of crimson sludge fueled by the wounds of the wretched,

  I will not fail in my charge,

  The purity of the devout will protect me,

  As my pilgrimage is illuminated by the ash of the faithful,

  For them, I need to succeed in my quest,

  I must reclaim the scepter for the light,

  And, finally, ascend to the right hand of the Father.

  XXIV

  Adrift in the Shadows

  Within the tainted sanctum, one of the forsaken beasts gasped, and the herald baptized the sinful followers in the venomous river flowing from the fallen ones veins. The faithful bowed before the Lords’ servant and professed, as it is foretold it is known, for the Almighty is the Lamb, and the Lamb is thy God.

  (The Epistle of Anacletus to the Priory 8.11)

  Through darkened days and unknown specters

  Mysteries shadow truths inside spiraling emotions-

  Empty thoughts, and even stranger dreams, give way-

  For my mind, realities fade; the scepter is within reach.

  “Bow before me Baal, or the scars from my blade will be your absolution.”

  Stillness engulfs the vile depths, as silence penetrates the Nephilim,

  Reverie smothers the calm- but still,

  The forgotten rise and roam the abyss, protecting him,

  Bodies fly, no escape, as their hunger is stronger than their will,

  My blade overthrows the tyrants- solitude unbound

  Calmness swallows thy heart: judgments unwound.

  The gate, sacred seals, and demons rise-

  And the dead walk with souls despised,

  Foretold by scripture and desires once lost,

  Mortal fears and open wounds survive the crossed-

  Blessed implements stained by blood, opened doors,

  For the path to deliverance rose upon unseen shores,

  The chasm burns and the pure follow,

  Forsaken by seraphim, adrift in the shallows.

  “Moloch, rise before me and face the Lord’s wrath, for through this blade, your impurity can be forgiven.”

  Words are but verses that shall be composed,

  Verses are but visions that must be transposed,

  Revelations feed doubts; emptiness breeds fright

  Choices wither- and reservations survive, at least for a night.

  The truths- and the tainted flesh-cannot hide-

  The souls of the damned drowned by pride,

  Ancient riddles difficult to perceive,

  An unfamiliar destiny left for me to conceive-

  How this oracle grew-an opportunity for naught,

  A mystery for sure, this scepter I have sought.

  “Moloch, your tomb is near, release the scepter, and be baptized by light.”

  Through a vibrant flail and mighty shriek,

  Moloch ascends from the inferno, to dine upon the meek,

  Baal has fallen, disemboweled upon his throne,

  My final trial lay ahead, redemption at hand.

  Canto IV - Wisdom Through Salvation

  XXV

  Seven Heads-Seven Diadems

  Behold, the first archfiend fell to the divine blade, and the sands of oblivion turned to blood. For beyond the idol, the secret covenant shattered and dark truths exposed.

  (The Epistle of Anacletus to the Priory 9.1)

  Father, why has this mantle obscured the light for so long?

  My faith wavers in the face of this deception; will you guide me?

  The legions of blasphemers surround the idol,

  Nephilim blood-human eyes, lava, and bone; Moloch in the flesh,

  The plague of deceit desecrates the bloodstained dunes of Levant,

  Jacques, Hugues, why have you condemned me with your lies?

  And the order, were we not worthy of the truth,

  As you sit at the right hand of the beast,

  How could we not see the reality that lay before us?

  Seven heads-seven diadems, John the Revelator was right,

  Rome is the--no, it cannot be real,

  Canonic scripture, a gospel full of hollowness,

  Here within this fouled realm, the spiteful face of the Maker at last revealed,

  My virtues on high, I cannot-will not accept this fate,

  Stand bastards, feel the deliverance alive in my blades,

  The Scepter of Light lay upon the sludge,

  Its righteousness drowned by the scales of sin in the hands of the wretched,

  Jacques fell first, Hugues followed,

  Their once blessed blood vanquished by the power of the light,

  Their souls impaled upon the idol,

  The relic calls to me, Moloch must not survive the night,

  His bowels cleansed by the demonic crucifix he holds dear,

  The staff must be mine; I must redeem the order, an undo the centuries of lies,

  Like Judas, spread the true word of the Lord,

  And expose the generations of usurpers and their septic history,

  For the Lamb, is a Lamb, and the Almighty is the Baphomet.

  Father, will you absolve me for my vicious acts?

  Will you cleanse me of this affliction and have mercy on me?

  XXVI

  Vengeance

  As the wind blows from the East, a tempest rages inside the inferno and Levant shudders. Go forth with faith and rescue the scepter, for through the eternal light encased in the sacred deity, the path to redemption will at last be illuminated.

  (The Epistle of Anacletus to the Priory 9.6)

  Look around,

  Listen to the sinners disperse,

  Their fetid pulse betrays them,

  Silent prayers echo through the emptiness,

  I can sense Moloch guiding them,

  Their insipid scents draw me closer to the black veil,

  Can you feel it inside?

  Father, can you hear the banquet of sin call to me?

  I know you do,

  I bow before you pledging my faith for your wisdom,

  Our order must partake in this communion.

  Blessed be, oh, mighty Baphomet,

  Thank you for enlightening my journey with your divinity,

  Opening your mouth to reveal the true path of righteousness,

  Did you leave the malefactors for us and out order?

  Or did you devour them for desecrating your sanctity?

  I pray to thee for guidance,

  Protect me as I pass through these caverns of misery,

  The search for the scepter leads me through this labyrinth,

  My journey to Mount Heres nears an end,

  Only there, may the true providence be revealed,

  Only there, will heaven be rebuilt.

  Look around,

  Listen to the silence

  Through the horizon, I can sense another amongst the Moloch’s’ traitors,

  Can you feel him too?

  His pheromones betray him

  His blackened heart calls to me for salvation,

  Yet, the cravings flowing through his veins are strong,

  It is he, whose baptism upon the embers of darkness has been foretold?

  Like Baal, he will feel the vengeance of my blade,

  And, I will reclaim the scepter for the Lord,

  At last, our redemption will be at hand.

  XXVII

  I Bow and Pray

  Across the canyon, a fire scars the mount and an infernal temple ascends from the ashes. A lone warrior set forth from the garden with faith, and the followers sunk in prayer, for Armageddon was at hand.

  (The Epistle of Anacletus to the Priory 9.9)

  Within the depths of Levant, a final path of pilgrimage appears on the cliff,

  The relic, the fiends, a mass of repugnant creatures, for as far as one can see;

  The dismembered and disemboweled walk, their spiteful blades concealed,

  Forlorn, and alone, life’
s emptiness at hand, please help me.

  From Nephalem blood, and sated tears,

  From the tainted thorns, and seven souls, the immoral unleashed the darkness,

  Help, Father, hear my call, please sate my fears,

  Entrails fall, scarlet flows, and still, revolting legions swell.

  At last, I stand before the thrown, my mighty mace in hand,

  In the abyss where the kingdom reigns, decaying maggot’s plea,

  My body is torn, and every test I have passed,

  And as the moon fades across the land, my faith resolute, I bow and pray.

  XXVIII

  Redemption at Last

  Then I saw a mighty warrior rise from the pandemic, embraced by the Almighty, and ordained by the Lord; his appearance prophesized in scripture, his valor legendary, and through his sacrifice, he would become known throughout the kingdom as Salvation.

  (The Epistle of Anacletus to the Priory 9.9)

  Suddenly the message is clear; my destiny at hand,

  Embers to ashes, day to night,

  The divine tapestry falls silently into the ravine,

  And the spirits of the lost engulf this realm,

  Joining me in this final battle for salvation,

  Ignite the torch, open the void, and raise the dead,

  For Moloch and Elyon will not bow before me.

  This night if foreign, the seraphs have vanished,

  They cower before the altar as the horde readies for battle,

  My minion does not quiver, as I ready my mace for deliverance,

  The holy vestige burns with the power of million lumens,