Book 45 -- Wokrob Initiation Ceremony (last revised 11/08/00)

I enter the room, devoid of light, wearing robes of crimson, red of fresh
spilt blood. My eyes have no time to adjust to the absence of light as a
circle of flame bursts to life in the center of the room. Through the spots
of dancing light that the fire leaves in my eyes, I can see a figure
standing across from me dressed in robes of black and crimson.

He, I can only say he because of his noticeable stature, motions me to come
forward. I edge closer to the circle of flames expecting a wall of heat but
alas there is no heat from this mystical fire. I am only a few feet from
the fire when two more figures come up beside me and motion for me to sit
directly across from him.

I look to where they direct me and notic there to be a circle carved into
the floor. I take my seat and find that it has the feel of polished bone.
The two figures fade from the edge of my vision, my attention now only on
him.

As I sit, the figure says not a word, makes no movement, gives no further
acknowledgement of my presence. I sit for what feels like an eternity, but
make no effort to move myself. This is what I want after all, and nothing
can alter my path. I suddenly notice, as my thoughts had wandered, that
chanting has begun around me.

It is coming from everywhere around the room. It has risen from the depths
of the earth so slowly that at first it had been unperceivable. Now the
chanting had risen to where I can hear nothing else. Not the beating of my
heart, not the thoughts in my own head, nothing can penetrate the chanting
around me.

A figure melts from the pitch darkness, at the edge of the fire light,
emerging as if the shadows had given birth to this new presence, not as if
the figure actually had form of flesh and blood. The figure approachs the
circle of flames holding out its hands. Hands so grotesque and misshapen
that I have to fight the rise of nausea as I see the figure put its hands
into the circle of flame. I almost gasp as the hands come to life in the
birth of fire, for they are not hands, no, they are fingers of candles of
the blackest and most disfigured sort. The figure places these candles
around me, slowly and deliberately, the smoke now wafting towards my face.
I try to glimpse at the face of the figure, but before I can discern its
appearance it melts into the shadows almost as if it never did exist.

Another figure emerges from behind me, just as the other had left. This one
also holds its hands to the circle of flame, but its hands are of incense.
The figure then follows the same ceremony of placing the incense around me.
The smell of the candles and the incense blends together and washes over me
like the fingers of an unseen assailant. The scent, is intoxicating, the
likes of which I have never before smelled and I hope never to smell again.

I feel an inner calm flowing through my very being, and I feel myself begin
to rise. I don't know if I am even in my body. I can't feel my feet touch
the ground, I have no control over my actions. The next thing I realize is
that I am standing in the circle of fire. The flames do not burn, they do
not turn my robes to ashes. I am one with the flames.

I begin speaking words that I know not their meaning. A feeling of immense
power begins to well up inside me, pure ecstasy. I have never in my life
felt as I do at this moment. The feeling of power is intoxicating,
overwhelming, and complete.

The flames begin to die quickly. My head is spinning, my sight a blur. The
chamber I am in begins to melt into blackness. Spinning, faster, faster,
faster!

I awake in my bed, dressed in my regular clothes, drenched in a cold sweat.
The words "Never shall I break my oath" escape my lips in a haggard breath.
Stunned and taxed, I lay back, my memories hazy. I lay here amazed. No one
will believe what I have become, the power I have felt, or the company I
now keep. I cannot tell a living soul. Not friend or family can ever know.
I can see the purpose of it all burning bright, like those flames, in the
dark recesses of my soul.

"Hail Lord Wokrob!"

The End

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