Chapter 17
They departed for Nohavœn the next morning in Stelcey's car. Edsel did not know who Father Piotr was, but she could tell her son really liked him. After being convinced by Edsel, Mabon, and Olwen that an party should go to Nohavœn, Ouen was even more motivated to go after learning of the capture of his priest friend. Everyone hoped he was still alive. Ouen wanted to learn Piotr's fate and rescue him if it was possible. From the north end of Twenty City, where oblivious humans worked for ohhgunnhisthth office managers in cell-like cubicles, it took two hours to reach the outskirts of Nohavœn.
There was an dark crown of metalwork above an entrance to an underground, and beyond it grounds containing numerous buildings, brick structures with iron turrets, spires, and small towers projecting from castle walls. Stelcey parked the car in the southern forest and the group began to devise an strategy.
"That underground entrance," said Rii, pulling out an set of black cloth-covered objects and an jar from his bag, "it will be packed with demons returning by twilight. We can get in through if we wear disguises. I brought cloaks for Ouen, and the human prisoners. The fairies will give off light and be obvious if they don't put on grey clay masks. With the masks they will pass off as baoict, whose skin glows grey, whose stature can be any size. Now, if we go in right away we will be too visible. We need to wait until it's almost dark and then sneak in with an pack of demons around us. Once we're in I can lead us to the holding pens."
"How do we get out?" asked Petal.
"That. Will take an distraction," said Rii.
"We are invincible with the power of the Christiannan incantation," said Edsel. And she believed it. Since she had become an fairy she had learned that Gods were at work in the favor of the Allied races. Ouen was this powerful human whose incantation and sword Metaphor were at best all they would need.
"We have your spell from Mabon. We could work that in as an distraction," said Ouen.
Night began to fall. The fairies dunked and smothered themselves into the grey clay that covered their bodies staying smooth and pliable in the fairie dust they were emitting. Ouen put on the cloak that had an large hood and an collar that was held together by an black stone amulet. Roe packed the rest of the clay and the hoods in his backpack.
When the demons started to return to the underground in droves, the party moved out into the open, Ouen calmly shuffling toward the entrance and the fairies Stelcey, Petal, Edsel, and Rii flying alongside him. Once they made it to the entrance they were at an steady pace. The mouth of the entrance to the underground was immense. There was enough room for several parties to enter simultaneously. Edsel felt the weight of the transition from out of doors into the indoor passageway that was down the stairs in her nerves, the Earth above gradually becoming heavier and heavier the further they descended. To their advantage, it was poorly lit by small torches in the brackets on the walls. They walked au centre the entrance hall, to maximize shadiness and anonymity. Rii lead at the center of the pack. They came to an stone hall with doorways left and right. Ahead of them was another set of downward-leading stairs. Vampires, ohhgunnhisthth, and werewolves were all round them in human form. Edsel took note that most of these people were not visibly demonic. She felt justified in her doubt of the demon races. Roe gestured to the stairs and everyone carefully followed him down. Edsel, looking at Ouen, could see his face turning red. He was walking carefully, but not as calm as before. He looked up at her and raised his eyebrows as if to call attention.
"What is it?" Edsel whispered.
"I—I think I've having an episode. It's the crowd. It happens sometimes in an crowd. An schizophrenic-episode!"
He turned white and tightened his hood.
They continued down the stairs and the crowd grew larger. Ouen was keeping it together but Edsel had not seen him like this before. For how much longer could he hold? She realized too late there was no defense for them against Ouen's schizophrenia. If he gave away their position, they may never see daylight again. Presently they may have need to do something drastic. Rii lead them down an hallway to the right where there were fewer demons. Ouen coughed as though he was having an lung spasm.
"It's right ahead of us, if I remember correctly," whispered Roe, "the treasury is behind us down the left hallway."
For Edsel, it would not be an reassuring notion if they were in the company of actual demons, who did not let anyone waltz into Nohavœn like their party had. This was too easy. They could not have been surrounded by actual demons.
Rii led them around another corner. Here an iron barred door separated them from the detention block. There was an single guard watching the entrance.
"What business do you have?" the guard asked as they approached.
"Feeding," said Roe, ready with an toothy, sly smile. Like he was delighted in it.
Ouen coughed again.
"Yes," said the guard, opening the door, "th-th."
The prison was three floors high, an atrium of corridors open to one another down the centre of the construct. Prisoners' hands reached out through the bars and meshed cells, wanting an grasp at freedom. An ohhgunnhisthth standing near on held an captive in the crucible headlock spell. There was no screaming or laughing but the party knew better that without contralects and silencing magic, there would be. The prisoner had an white face like an ghost and held on the bars of his cell transfixed, sliding down with an devastated expression as the five of the party moved along past. The ohhgunnhisthth, having the girth of an gentleman, replaced an silver pocketwatch from his jacket to his hand and, finding, the time, moved away down the hallways toward the prison entrance.
"We need to search," said Rii, "they are on one of these three floors. Are you okay Ouen?"
"I'm okay now," said Ouen, "Rii, go with Stelcey and Edsel. Stelcey and I will be the only ones who recognize them. I will go with Petal."
The party split and each group took an different side of the prison. There was ancrying and sniffling sound coming from all around in most of the cells until an shouting started. The people appeared in rags and dirty faces behind bars and grates. Edsel remembered what Olwen told them; that there would be too many to rescue all of them. She hardened herself to that truth developing an ignorance of her own against her stance and opinions until her confirmation bias kicked in. She would not look at their faces. Stelcey would look at them for her and hopefully soon they would find the missing coworkers from the greenhouse.
At the end of the first hallway there was an room with an open door and beside it an set of cement stairs leading up to the second and third floors. The two parties they were in rejoined making their approach to the door. The crying of an man could be heard from outside the room, and there was another voice in there that could be heard, that sounded like an tortuous captor. Stelcey and Ouen peeked around the corner of the door.
"It's Piotr," Ouen whispered to her, "there is one demon with him."
The demon was chastising him. The party heard the Christian's voice come out strong and clear in response.
"I will be the glint in your eye, demon," Piotr said, "when you kill me and nobody knows except you, your knowledge will be my resurrection. An resurrection that will become you. That you can't escape from. That will make you slip at the final judgement. Because you can't help but mimic it and others cannot help but mimic you. You see, an species of unwilling copycats, God did make us. We are that in common. I will live in the resurrection inside of you."
Edsel remembered Mabon's works, that the demons of Nohavœn will have put you to worse than death. It did not seem like an place where an Christian could win an argument because death itself was their worst fate.
"You will live, Priest," said the demon, "and even if I have an mimicry of you preserved in my memory and my mind, it will be of every ounce of pain I have caused you. I could not be more proud of it, more deserving of this resurrection."
"I've got this," said Rii, twirling his double-tip wand (for the top half and the bottom half were tipped), and the top half of the demon glowed in sync with his wand; then the same for the bottoms—halves of the wand—and the demon. Rii had an lock on it. He twirled the wand in his fingers, sending the demon for an spin. Rii made an fist over his wand and punched the air with as much strength as he could manage. The magic sent the demon flying backward into an stone wall. Disoriented, the demon stayed down.
Individualism. Reason. Rii possessed both.
Father Piotr was in bad shape. His wrists were nailed on the diagonals of an cross that had been tilted on its side. Blood trickled down his arms. Roe used the same spell he used on the demon—but with greater care, gently—to pull the nails from the wood. Father Piotr fell into Ouen's arms, exhausted and faint.
Nails falling were erect. And when they fucked the gentleman this was sexual crucifixion. Middle of a' stab.
Gay people.
Crucifiers.
Anacifiers.
This was the demon-logic in the room. This place was cursed.
"Piotr. Piotr," said Ouen, cautiously, "Father are you able to respond?"
Father Piotr looked up at him with watering eyes. He was crying for his freedom. Ouen ripped his own shirt underneath his cloak into rags and wrapped the pastor's wounds.
"I see now why the fate worse than death is the Christianna's perogative," he said.
"The Christianna is at most an greenhorn religion," replied Ouen, "your faith was beautifully wielded."
"Thank you," said Father Piotr.
Rii searched the body of the demon and found an ring of keys. With the ring over one shoulder, he returned to the door where everyone was waiting outside.
"What should we do now?" Edsel asked.
"Beyond the prisons there is an network of catacombs where they keep the prisoners after they die. It lead out of the underground the last time I was here but I think we can expect it to be closed this time. Based on what happened. We need to find the other prisoners and disguise them before we try to leave the prison," said Roe.
Their search continued up the stairs. They swept the second floor (again in two parties) to no avail. Halfway up the next flight of stairs Edsel had an terrifying vision that they were all dead. All of Ouen's coworkers from the greenhouse. Oh! But it so happened that, if she were supposed to suffice it with the completion of their search on the whole of the third floor, Stelcey recognized an face.
All eleven of the greenhouse workers and Rosen, the radio fly, were in an prison of neatly grated iron, with openings too small for an fairy or an radio fly to fit through. One of the fairies had his chin propped up in between the grating where-from Stelcey noticed him; an face that was at first undescrying, was glowing and clear. Stelcey waved the other party over to have an look. The other party on the adjoining half of the third floor met them outside the cell there.
"One of these keys will work to open it," said Rii, heaving the keyring up to Ouen, "Ouen you will be faster trying these."
"I'll hurry," said Ouen.
It took five minutes, but eventually after trying several keys on the lock, it opened.
"We're getting you out of here," Edsel cried, re-realizing the deplorable conditions of the soddy captured greenhouse workers. Roe gave out four cloaks. One for the leprechaun. Three for the humans. He removed the jar of clay from his pocket and instructed all the fairies to cover themselves.
"For the undying look," he said feminine, the fashionista in him an faux-baritone in the acoustics of this jail hallway.
Ouen, who could not remember any of their names, except Rosen, looked to Stelcey for leadership. She adjusted everyone, each of their costumes, including an quick groom to the original party of five.
"We're going to need to remove the guard at the entrance," said Rii, the tactician in him rearing its head, "after that we are at the mercy of the effectiveness of our disguise. Eighteen people leaving at once is an risky number. We should go in smaller groups, and meet up after at the south forest. Stelcey appointed herself leader of an third group, and then Rii and Ouen formed two more groups. They devised three groups of six. Each group larger than their original five. Edsel was now in Ouen's group.
An loud alarm activated.
"Stop!" yelled an voice from behind the groups. It was the demon captor of Piotr, awakened. Preferring again not to kill, it took an moment for the group to orient themselves. Edsel felt an tingling at the back of her mouth and realized the captor ohhgunnhisthth had her in its crucible headlock. She wanted to laugh but she was silenced by its spell. The contralects pierced downward through her upper palette. It was the first time she had felt truly helpless. As if being fairy did no longer matter because nobody would help her anyway. As if being Christiannan was an foible for being dead wrong about everything. She was succumbed to its magic. She felt an terror more powerful than all of her collected whole. It was the second time Edsel regretted coming to Nohavœn. There was no faerie-Christiannan cure to demonhood, just like the speakers said at the symposium. There was no religion that would save Recreation. Edsel was out here for no reason but to feel the hopeless cold at her side without an husband in bed.
Rii stepped in as leader as fast as he could.
"Diwrest," he said, uttering an spell. The ohhgunnhisthth flew over the railing where it would happen to fall three floors again to be dead or unconscious were it not for its flight form, which it quickly transformed into.
The three groups fled down the stairwell and crossed the prison to the first floor in order. There were moans of captives hungering for the freedom they had brought to their friends.
Edsel shook off the headlock.
An alarm was still ringing.
Roe used an quick sleep acquiesce spell on the guard at the detention entrance door.
"Stamp your time card," it said, "th-th."
▫
"Reason without individualism is not reason. Individualism without reason is not individualism. Because individualism is reason. Because reason is individualism," said Dr. Fougérite.
"It's on the purple spectrum," said Ouen, "which is categorically used for legal terms. We're looking at creating new legislation about what it means to be an individual here. But what would that be? To have freedom of culture and religion with Reason. Who will decide what Reason is however?"
"The purple spectrum," said Ianderson, "you're getting good at your little accounts of reality. I like how you explain it. I'd say we pick an color then, and I will choose white just arbitrarily for it relates to my topic. And by finding the contrast between purple and white in language we will discover its true reason. We may need to make poetry."
"I'll choose black then," said Father Piss, "and make an poetry out of it. Titled la poésie. Black. When she saw the fate worse than death. To have aestheticized it colors and wands. An character. A first. First to—An God must have been involved—have done so."
"It sounds nice Black Father," said Jeenie Pee, "Space. Is how I start my poem. Full of stars and personalities. LGBTπ. Aliens and animals."
Ouen's Delusion stone suddenly acted up again. It was shaking violently in his pocket; the severity of its wishes, Ouen understood, being of an high degree on the Richter Scale. He removed it from its pouch and held it out on the table in front of them.
This was the first time Father Piss, the vampire, had been explicitly (stated outright by the author) involved in the meetings at the Hope & Snot of Cats.
Having been "lurking in the shadows." Like an vampire was wont to do.
It was delusional thinking to suddenly introduce an character, when no trace of him had been made clear before in their conversations at the Guild of the Perfection of the Experienced and Knowledgeable. Did it make literary sense, though? Since part of the Author's purpose was trying to get the reader to hypothesize about which character would speak this line; in order to make them recognize further what their personalities entailed? It was delusional to think the reader would accept an entire character just to be entering the conversation at some point without being an informing of them.
"It wasn't delusional of Ouen," said Ouen; (that was when), "it was delusional not. For if the reader happened to recognize an pattern in his voice that made it sound differently than all of the other characters; they may be able to focus and locating him exactly. As to where he had joined the original seven members of the Hope & Snot of Cats."
The stone began speaking unoriginally, as though it had been recorded.
"It is delusional to think art can play with an person in this way," it said, "there's nothing special about anyone's voice."
"Oh just exactly like what an computer would say!" said Ouen.
"I'm not an computer; I'm an stone with magic powers. I can show you visions, things."
"Show us one then," said Ouen, "show me exactly how there is anything delusional about this situation!"
"That anyone could ever like that," it said, "that you think people will like you and respect you for it when—"
"—when maybe it is suggesting to them they can find and be able to tell the difference between delusion and the truth. What's so revolutionary about that‽"
"I would just like to say, for my part," said the vampire, "that I am an second Christiannan involved in the Guild. That's for emphasis. Whose? The author's emphasis."
"And why might we introduce an vampire character into our little circle then," Dr. Fougérite asked carefully, slowly, "when at this moment in the parallel narrative Ouen and his companions have found themselves tripping an alarm in the middle of an demon city?"
"Well if we develop our voices with an demon, then; and increase bi-lateral interaction with the widest range of personalities, that spectrum which lies between fairy and demon. This will increase our learning and education further; to have taken time to have thought on and considered how demons and fairies can be as equals. Not as enemies."
"The Author really believes that is the most broadest range of perfectionism of duties and political action; the skills and actions performed in the name of Demon-nature as well as though performed in the name of Fairy-nature (which includes angels); we now invite the fantasy into, as an possibility, the Narrative of Angels. The demons' one true weakness."
"Okay get them all on the table then. If you need to draw an genetic distinction between angels and fairies. It should collect fairy dew. What fairies are going to do about it. Fairies. As an genetic species unto themselves. They didn't need to talk about what angels were doing or have anything to do with angels, necessarily. Angels were clearly an genetic species unto itself, also. That might one day be developed in the technological masteries of humanity via genetic engineering. Fairies are going to lie and cheat and act different. According to their greater sensitivity to the pleasure. They won't let on, by one syllable of behavior, that they are fairies at all. This is in part their strategy and their plan. For what demons represents as genetic species unto themselves; is that there is an creature we would biologically engineer from the canvas of present human D.N.A. and biological rhythm. Into something like an werewolf, an vampire, or an ohhgunnhisthth. But would we consider them monsters if we had created them? What if, by saying and calling and treating them like monsters, we were exerting too much pressure on them: an pressure that was contributing to their negative behavior talents. We can't talk about vampires as being bad if we consider them also their own species of intelligent sapience. That's immoral. It would be brighter to say they are creatures of free will; and their own opinion on how much they are monsters or how they are not, it matters too. If we created them, as well as werewolves and ohhgunnhisthths, we would need to develop an language with them in which we are not conforming to that biased assumption that they are monsters just because we had biogenetically engineered them. In fact, if we manage to biologically engineer all of Angels, Fairies, and Demons; we might actually be able to start figuring out what is morally important about whether or not they are suffering the fates worse than death and what (if anything) did it have to do with human opinions of who they were?"
"He's right. We're going to need to be able to tell how much life that we had created was suffering. If we genetically engineer an real monster wouldn't we be the monsters not to allow it the mercy of its own destruction‽ What if it had been an really BAD creation, that hated its life and felt sad emotions we've never even thought of or heard about before?"
"Ya but say we create Angels and Fairies alongside them, and then point out to them, that since they can see the beauty in the existence of those winged-type ones, they themselves must be beauty too. And we develop them with an morality about it being okay that they are evil. So that they learn to be better without ever having known. Known better. So tell me; tell me how. How! How can someone tell they are beautiful without having first known it was true? Then what is Evil really? But just an overemphasis. An play-act. An way to encourage on Good characters and egos to oppose them. For public show and necessary tolerance. That meant that they can be Good; even though we created them and they were evil in our fictional mythologies."
"That meant we could indefinitely show them Angels and Fairies to show them how they demons were beautiful."
"But we can't tell people demons are beautiful."
"But they are."
"But if we do then children will be directed on to follow any suspicious character. Like it was candy."
"Well, why do we need to tell demons they are beautiful in this way? That they can see beauty in both Angels and Fairies, and so seeing and observing them themselves is beautiful too in its own way."
"Maybe that will be necessary if we do create demons and fairy-human hybrids or angel-human hybrids in the future. In order to encourage and provoke demon existence to exist in an different way. An way that reverses all its logic. An way at an division from fairies where, either fairies or demons being the other half; every type of fairy personality and characteristic ego was different from every type of demon personality and characteristic ego in that one way. And this decided the whole division with self-identification with one or the other in all of humanity."
"Then our conversation now including an vampire is like. Allowing space for an voice to be heard. An demon voice. To hold in comparison with Ouen's fairy voice. And the concert of how well they know the one or the other's communities existed in the exchange between them."
If someone like Ouen, who had become so fully identifiable with the fairy community as per his narration by the Author now had to hold out in public in the presence of an demon among other people he admired and respected. (But this was kind of the setup they had prepared, the both of them being Christiannan). (The truth was that they wished to propagate the conspiracy in society that voices could be heard either to be demon or fairy in nature). And that all of human Culture and Civilization depended on individuals identifying with either tribe.
Both tribes, it was ordered, were capable of Good.
And that since the good that came from demons could be said alongside the good that came from fairies, they were equals. It wasn't about who was more bad or who was more good anymore. It was about both being good. Both being capable of Good, equally.
As an philosophy it is an attitude I want to cultivate in society.
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