Sermon 14

And while ALMSIVI presented Her homily on divine unity, the king's favourite catamite wandered the Forsaken Lands, cursing Ayem. His hatred echoed in oblivion, and from the earth rose a door to the House of Troubles.

"Enter into me," said the door. "And know thyself."

And the catamite said, "I do not want to know myself. I am afraid of what I will see."

The door became a mirror, revealing the Second Corner of the House of Troubles, Mehrunes Dagon, crowned with beaten copper and beautiful.

"Come to me," he said.

The catamite shook his head, but when he turned to flee, he stood upon the darkling plane of spiritual dissolution.

And Mehrunes Dagon swept over the catamite, folding him in his arms.

"What do you seek?" he said.

"The destruction of my guilt."

And Mehrunes Dagon laughed. "I understand now. She will throw down my idols; place her image in my place. Does she think she can rival my love? I am the Lord of Razors!"

"But how can you stand against her?"

And Mehrunes Dagon opened his mouth, placing the catamite's head within. He glimpsed the many legions which made up Dagon's essence. A great host gathered on a rust-red waste, ready to spill from Dagon and make his will manifest.

He saw the first pennant, which commanded a legion of sins waiting to be discovered.

He saw the second pennant, which commanded a legion of beautiful women with rattlesnakes beneath their loincloths.

He saw the third pennant, which commanded a legion of beloved friends who never kept secrets.

He saw the fourth pennant, which commanded a legion of water spirits who knew only thirst.

He saw the fifth pennant, which commanded a legion of lonely souls born into the wrong age.

He saw the sixth pennant, which commanded a legion of laws for an imaginary realm.

He saw the seventh pennant, which commanded a legion of inverse mothers who birthed death.

And the catamite said, "Lord of Razors, who shall herald this cataclysm?"

Dagon replied, "You, sweet one. You shall be armoured in betrayal, and carry the banner of inevitability. From such substance do myths arise."

The catamite said, "If I may kill my guilt, I shall serve."

"Then take up your office."

And the catamite knelt, and Dagon presented his sceptre, ruby veined, crowned with an orb of obsidian. The catamite kissed it, swallowed down bitter duty. He licked his lips, oily with Dagon's delicate effusions. Thus is Dagon called the beautiful, for he offers man exactly what he wants, but never what he needs.

"When shall we strike her down?" asked the catamite, curled at Dagon's hooves, clutching the altar's horns.

"When the poets are most inspired."

And this was a good answer, for the catamite said no more.

The ending of the words is ALMSIVI.