The Seeker in Crimson - A Fragment
Are there as many horrors as wonders waiting for us?
The Seeker in Crimson - A Fragment:
In my dreams my mind touches his - a repository of sour alien thoughts and ambitions. And to think he fears me? "He" is Viz'Magyar, or that is the closest my fragile human mind can translate his name. He is the Seeker in Crimson. For human generations he has traversed the darkest corners of space and time seeking the location of Yrr'Maleek, the Ebon-king. Imprisoned for aeons in the heart of a long-dead star.
A gaunt inhuman figure clad in voluminous saffron hued robes. He is all deep red, except for his face. His face is a mask - a scrimshaw mask of yellowed ivory - oh what does this ancient mask hide? What horror...or perhaps beauty? I wonder fearfully. My eyes are drawn to his hands: clawed, four fingered and skeleton-thin. However, something about these hands is...wrong...his fingers, the way his fingers move...like they have more knuckles than they should. And they writhe like worms, independent of each other, even away from each other, with a dexterity my fumbling ape-like paws could never hope to match.
I stated that he feared me. I am a fool. Such a creature as he would no more fear even the most puissant member of mankind then I would fear the mightiest of earthworms. What he fears is the touch of my mind to his. Because if I discovered him, others can. And Viz’Magyar has enemies...such enemies. Alien entities of vast intellect and terrible hungers. How did you find me? And what is it that you wish from me? Viz’Magyar asks me in a “voice” that is dessicated and strained. A mental voice that is as chilling as laughter from a grave.
I realize then at that moment, that not only can I touch his mind - I can see within it! I can see flashes of his thoughts and his memories. His mind is catalogued and organized like the index of a book. No not a book, for that does not do it justice...but a vast and terrible library filled with dark dreams and bright nightmares. And the things I see splayed before me rock me to the core of my being. For Viz’Magyar is a master of arcane sciences far beyond what our young and primitive breed can begin to imagine. The use of mathematics on a scale that dwarfs me in an instant - is this the true power of numerology? The summoning and binding of “spirits” - alien beings that are not merely extra-terrestrial, but extra-dimensional - things that even today many in our world would call angels and demons. However, of the things that flooded my mind it was the why not the what that caused my sanity to fray...why does Viz’Magyar seek Yrr'Maleek, called the Ebon-king? A being so dark, so feared that an alliance of things that I can only call gods tried and failed to destroy him - gods that had to be content with merely imprisoning this vast cosmic Satan, such was his power. Because the Seeker in Crimson believes that the Ebon-king holds the knowledge of ascension. A key to leaving this “mundane” three dimensional universe of ours to travel to higher realms of terrible wonder. And it is this that the Seeker in Crimson truly seeks. And if he has to release horror on untold trillions to do it? So be it.
...I awakened drenched in sweat, an ice-cold sweat. My heart hammers and I gulp for air...it is then that I realize that my eyes are filled with the sting of tears...did I cry in my sleep? It was just another nightmare. I get up and open the curtains and stare into the early morning sky. I stare at the stars and wonder, can things like Viz’Magyar and the Ebon-king be real? Are there as many or more horrors than wonders waiting for us? As I ponder such dark and weighty matters, I know that sleep will elude me for the rest of this night...