Ways Of The Wind

I have stood silent, waiting for the summoned winds to

slowly take away my shape and carry me to the far ends

of the earth.

My eroded remnants binding in an alternate world,

overlapping the one that humans call their own, though

untraceable.

The winds of By'gahl took me to his kingdom in the

East.

On the back of his gigantic blackened wings I passed

the rural pagan lands and the mountains of the dark

Carpathian empire.

During my time there I learned the tales of the

Vampyres and the hidden roads to the haunting one

called Tepes, still cloaking these lands in fear.

And I met the spirits of all warriors, long forgotten,

when I crossed the extensive battlefields hidden beyond

an infinity of years.

Willingly, the dead shared with me their vicious

terrors and lusting fantasies.

I absorbed their being, feeding my soul with their

force.

I had become what I'd been taught.

The winds of Bheloth took me to the Southern domain.

On the back of the tentacled horse, this liquid

demon-king took me away.

He taught me the tales of the Order of Power, to which

he had devoted his life, and proclaimed me all his

might and wisdom.

And I absorbed every detail of the knowledge into my

mind.

The monstrous horse rode the stars shining on the

southern hemisphere and I saw the beige deserts in

which the Ancient Ones lay silent, never to be found

by human kind.

But I could see them as clear as diamonds, reflecting

a surreal moonlight into my eyes.

And in a future nearby I would crush the Ultimate Gate

awaking the statuegods.

Clutching to the greasy fur of the hideous predator

Gha'hap, I travelled to the frontiers of the West.

Riding off when the sun was in the southern signs, he

was the one teaching me the secret arts of the divine,

and sciences of the macabre.

From high above I gazed over the lands and waters of

the western continent.

I tasted the atmospheres of elder times, when the sun

Ah Kinchil was more than a star for those races on the

mountaintops, and when its bridal moon was still

considered sacred, the goddess named Ix C'up.

But melancholy drenched my heart in these times, now

buried, echoed through my head.

The winds of Bthya'qual took me to the North, where I

tasted the powers of violence and bloodshed.

In the hypnotizing falls of the northern lights I

heard the horn blown by the gods, to welcome our

trespassing in the "lands of Odin".

My guide uncovered its gnarled grey teeth in my

direction, its empty greenish eyes staring at my face,

and I felt the rush of a second disintegration.

And on yet another astral plane I reassembled and

travelled with the Norsemen over the great wide open

sea, to conquer lands across.

On the back of Bthya'qual I rode the Northlands and

beyond.

I have scaled the four sides of the globe and learned

all there is to know.

I know the fears and loves of the humanoid creation.

And I know the same of the divine.

But still there are things beyond my reach.