01/08/09 – 1:06pm (the black sun)
The Black Sun
by Anders Sandberg
Even the greatest souls can become twisted, corrupted by their learning, power or love. Judith Freeman is one such fallen greatness.
Once she was one of the brightest voices of the Celestial Chorus, a beloved visionary and mystic. Throughout her life she devoted herself to the Chorus and its mission, but she had a mystic bent that made her more aware of the higher spheres than the here and now, making her a bit too otherworldly for most sleepers (and quite a few of the more practical brethren). Instead she sought inner wisdom, trying to reach the shard of the One she felt within her. She felt its need of togetherness, the great yearning for unity, for reconciliation, that all of creation felt.
Had she not met with Griscard Rochman her life and work would surely have been different. Griscard was one of the children of Caine, a dark shadow irresistibly drawn towards the light of Judith. He watched her from afar, fascinated by her spiritual beauty, her power, her faith. Finally one night he approached her on the roof of the chantry, desperate to get near her despite the danger to both of them. Judith calmly listened to his black confessions, and forgave him. She became fascinated by the Children of Caine, and during subsequent nights she listened to the lore that spilled from the lips of Griscard.
Finally the temptation became too great, and she let him drink her vitae – and he let her drink his. In their union, Judith felt something she had never experienced before: a soul touching a soul, a shard of the One touching another shard of the One (albeit corrupted by millennia of degradation). Enraptured, they mingled their blood, unifying life and death. In that crucial moment revelation hit Judith, and she began to sing a new song. She realised a way towards the One, a way to bring all the lonely shards of the primal unity back together. Using her magick she drank more of Griscard who lied helpless in her arms. She drank his soul, uniting it with hers.
As the sun rose above the trees around the chantry, Judith watched it filled with joy and fear over what she had done. At her feet a pile of ashes blew in the morning breeze, but her beloved was within her, united in her soul.
Over the next weeks she gradually learned. She felt the hunger of the vampire, and saw it for what it was: a desperate, unarticulated longing for unity. She understood why the children of Caine coveted the blood of each other and the mortals, and forgave them.
When she eventually revealed what she had done to the deacons of her chantry, she was surprised by their reaction. How could they fear and denounce what she had done? Had she not shown them the way towards reconciliation, of the great unity of life and death? When they ordered her to do penance for her crime, she replied that she would do penance, but not for her deed, but to purify her new united soul from the sins of the children of Caine. It was too much, and she was expelled by the council.
For a long time Judith was sad and confused by what had happened. Why could they not accept her vision? How could such bright masters be so blind? But she eventually realised that many people were as fearful of unity as they longed for it, a fear that held the fragments of the One apart and lonely. But their opinions did not matter, only compassion mattered. She set out to unite all lonely souls – by devouring them.