The Red Words

The Book of Passion

Tyler asked about the ornate lines that spiraled and twisted along Morrigan's arm. The interwoven scribbles laced together, overlapping and threading through shapes formed in their unknowable construct.
He picked the words out easily, if they were words to begin with, but failed to understand them.
"What about them," Morrigan asked.
"well," he replied, "what do they say?"
She opened her mouth, and her eyes glossed over. She glanced down twiddling her thumbs as if ashamed of her answer.
Her words came in a shuddering whisper, "I honestly have no idea."
— From The Scarlet Ashes

Most never learn of this holy text. It held many names over the course of creation: Rubeum Verba, The Stain, The Book of Passion, or quite simply, The Red. The text is not copied for posterity. It is not a leather bound tome handed down over generations, nor is it studied by scholars who focus on the strange religious movements that appear in the hidden spaces of the world. You won't find it in any library, not even in the sections that technically don't exist. The text is as elusive as it is indecipherable. It stains the skin of the faithful, forever marking their commitment to a goddess as old as humanity itself. In the modern day, the only ones who bear it are The Children of The Fiery Lock. The Red Maiden is a goddess of red and passion, a goddess of extremes. She is an entity from outside our existence, a place far stranger than reality. The script is written in her hand. Every word is a declaration made in her own voice. Wars between rival cults in secluded fields have been waged, citing the text as an excuse, but there is far more to these stains than one would expect.

Flesh Like Stained Glass

The Red is written in the skin of everyone who practices the faith. It comes in many forms, and no one person bears the same words written on their body. It is usually hidden, though many find it written on their arms and legs. The placement is random and occurs without the faithful's knowledge or preference. The first words appear out of nowhere, and the higher up one goes in the hierarchy of the faith, the more they will have. Some choose to adorn these markings with tattoos, as if making notations in their own margins with colors that contrast well with the reddish hues.

The text can appear in three ways.

Some find their skin stained, like a birthmark. The stain is colored in several hues of red. The text is usually expanded on as they climb the hierarchy, appearing overnight.

Some find their skin hardened, thickened like a sheet of glass embedded in the skin. This occurs if scars are present in the area affected, covering the memories of past wounds. It isn't clear why this occurs, but the results are often breathtaking to see.

One can choose to add the words manually after their first marks are given. This is done through a method of tattooing that involves scattering blood over the skin, and tattooing over the trails left behind using the gifts of The Scarlet Arts. The tattooists use a long needle, painfully jabbing at the skin with many shades of red ink in the tip. These artists have no idea what the final product will look like, nor do they know what it will say.

A War of Ideas

There is only one religious movement that still worships The Red Maiden, and their history is one of brutality and tragic hardship. Many cults have come and gone in the past, all eradicated due to arguments on the text and its implications. The cult holds no single belief as to what the words mean, and keep translations for reference rather than practice. They hope that through their constant acts of sacrifice, their goddess will reveal the truth. The Red Maiden has grown unbearably silent in the last several centuries. She appears less frequently to those who call her name, and the words of her holy text expand just as rarely. The 1920s saw a massive conflict, a schism that claimed the lives of nearly 300 men and women, and all due to ideological differences around these strange markings.

A Search For Meaning

Not many can read the text. To the outside observer, the myriad of translations are baffling. Many of these translations do little but stir up conflict in individual cults. One cannot even read the markings made on their own body, much less what the whole compilation may say. Many believe the language to be subjective, something that is different to any who views it. Others believe it is a work constantly being written. A never ending story that details fundamental secrets of the human condition. There are also those who believe the script to be details of the future, and those who believe the text is merely an artistic brand, marking you as a cultist of The Maiden. Members usually fall in love with the words on their body, memorizing every maddening curve during rituals. This love is often paired with fear, or at best, can leave the cultist uncomfortable. The structure of the words are complex to the point where the human eye struggles to retain the image. One could read it, but forget the intricacy of the text immediately after.

A Love Language

Morrigan stopped, finding herself alone in the dark once more. The vision of the goddess vanished, leaving Morrigan to her thoughts, as always. Was it true? She lightly brushed against the crimson marks on her arm. She took a sharp breath. She tore the blouse from her body, tracing along the endless trail of reddish thread with her fingers in a mad race to verify what she just felt.
Tears waited to fall. She gasped for breath as her hands danced across her arm; to her shoulder then her clavicle and breast. When she reached her stomach she gave a light smile. She felt words written in Braille.
The flood came, the words forming in her mind. The smile stretched further across her face as her heart swelled. The words skipped without form, the mutterings of a poet lost in love. Morrigan even found her name written among the clutter.
"You love me," Morrigan cried, "after all I have done?"
Fits of Morrigan's quivering, mad laughter echoed out of the room. She tried not to notice, but a thought crept in seeking to shatter that fragile moment; a realization. She pushed it back, but as it is with every thought: Once addressed, it's far too late.
"Oh," she began. She trembled as the revelation turned tears of passion to those of the deepest blue, "please, not like this." Morrigan managed only a single word in the violent flurry of sobs that followed:
"Why?"
— From The Scarlet Ashes

I invite you turn away, dear reader, for what follows is an explanation. Do you want the truth? Read on if it pleases you.
You wont like it.

It's a bittersweet moment when one finally understands the words written in their flesh. They trace with their fingers along the calligraphy, crying tears of both joy and sorrow. The tears come from a realization, not only of the truth, but of its implications. The marks etched into their skin are not commandments laid down by their eldritch goddess. They are not orders to be followed, nor demands to be met. When they stare in a mirror at their sea of red words, what they find are love letters signed and sealed in flesh. Their voiceless goddess chose to take the time in her own words to address them, and them alone. They would never share such treasured gifts. The words are nonsensical, impossible to speak. Their meaning, however, is always clear. These men and women live in a world indifferent to their existence. They recognize how small and insignificant they are. For a moment, however, these words act as proof of the opposite. That's when the truth sinks in. Their goddess chose to write of her love, to praise her worshipers of their accomplishments. Despite this, so many were slaughtered believing that these words were so much more. Their friends, lovers, and family were killed in the name of a lie, and for some it was a lie they believed.

Cover image: by Andrew Ross (wikicommons)

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Councilor of the Inner Sanctum SableAradia

Apr 23, 2020 01:54 by Diane Morrison

This is powerful, especially the explanation. I am predicting right now that this one will make the stream. Great work!

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Sage Dylonishere123

Apr 23, 2020 03:20 by R. Dylon Elder

Woah! That made my night. Thanks so much! I'm glad you liked it.

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Kendallonian

Apr 23, 2020 08:17

random idea: You mentioned in passing that some words formed by hardening the skin. What if someone had calloused, armored, almost chitinous armbands made from Red Words? The first quote gains new meaning after reading the final explanation. especially "She glanced down twiddling her thumbs as if ashamed of her answer." Nice writing. I wonder if some sage has been cataloging every bit of red text he can find and trying to fit them together not knowing or comprehending that they're individual messages, and not the type you'd normally find in a religious codex.

Sage Dylonishere123

Apr 23, 2020 14:34 by R. Dylon Elder

That is a possibility. Soinds like an interesting idea to play around with. I never thought of using the glass words practically but now it sounds kind of cool. Hmmmm. Also thabksnso much for the kind words. I'm glad it was well received. I havnt decided if the first quote should appear before or after the second, as both have some real emotional impact. Its rare I find something in actually proud of writing. The translations mentioned are just that, someone catalogues the words and it does little more than make things worse for everyone. I really wanted to make the text different from others.

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Master hughpierre

Apr 24, 2020 19:55

I'll be honest: until near the end, I thought it was going to be some dark art or eldritch horror being associated with those tattoos. What with all the illusions to red and nonsensical markings. That last section took me by surprise and made me rethink how philosophical the prior sections could be interpreted.

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Sage Dylonishere123

Apr 24, 2020 23:39 by R. Dylon Elder

The Red Maiden is an eldritch being, but not quite the same kind of indifferent as others. So you were not wrong. I really love using ideas of cosmic horror but lately I've been feeling like alot of it is a bit stale. I wanted to take it and do something weird lol I'm glad it worked! Thanks for those kind words man. I appreciate it so much!

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Exalted Councilor of the Inner Sanctum Vazdimet

Jan 4, 2021 16:00 by Morgan Biscup

I am glad you did. What a beautiful and bittersweet truth.

Lead Author of Vazdimet.
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Councilor of the Inner Sanctum Serukis

Jul 18, 2020 23:34 by Dr Emily Vair-Turnbull

Ohh, the idea of that realisation... the knowledge of your goddess's love mixed with the knowledge of the pain that has occurred because they believed the words were something else. I imagine that's some kind of painful, ecstatic heartbreak.

Emy x
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Sage Dylonishere123

Jul 23, 2020 03:41 by R. Dylon Elder

Thanks so much! Missed this comment. sorry! The Fiery Lock is my favorite cult of The Web and this article probably sums up the idea very well. There is always a strange duality in The Fiery Lock. Thanks so much for the comment!

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