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Tzadik v'Ra Lo Background

Page history last edited by John O'Brien 12 years, 4 months ago

Who am I? My name is perhaps not as important as what I am... and what I choose to do with my power.

 

I was once a callow and dissolute youth. I was weaned on a steady diet of praise and promises, on tales of important destinies, and on a covenant of being groomed for great mystical power and responsibility. And yet, as the years passed, and I saw those around me performing feats and miracles that I could not even begin to comprehend, let alone emulate... as I saw all those goyim surpassing me, while all the while the threats to our people grew... well, I will admit to you that I grew envious and bitter. But most of all, I felt ineffectual and weak. I was without value to neither the Jews I strove to protect, nor to the Emperor I did my utmost to serve, nor to those self-same Gentile mystics whom had become my boon companions.

 

And so it was that I came to grasp at the first lifeline that presented itself... the first guaranteed path to true mystical power that I was offered. I was presented to the two thousand year old Thracian demigod of Mount Kogaion. I entered into vassalage, so as to learn his secret teachings. And with the very first lesson on that fateful night, I was presented with the Philosopher's Stone! I drank from this Fountain of Youth, and my regnant's draco elixir made me immortal! Can you imagine? On this First Night, I was given the gift of time. There was time enough now to learn... everything. 

 

Thus began my nigredo... my blackening and corruption... my Awakening under the Sol Niger. At the time, I thought I had truly awoken to the night. How naive I was...

 

I honed my skills and newly acquired abilities, and worked to finally fashion a respected place for myself within the occult society... but alas, my skills never seemed to be enough. I continued to be treated as a second class citizen by my cabal, who mocked that they had "a lifetime of moving mountains" while I had settled for "an eternity of subtle machinations." And, to make matters worse, I was hounded at every turn by a demon who sought to claim my soul for Pandemonium. To think... I, the Slayer of Keteb! I am a hunter of shedim, not the servant of one! I vowed I would never knuckle under to Samuel, that foul schemer and tempter... that Son of Lies. 

 

In hindsight, this fateful decision-- ultimately sealed in an Atlantean temple in the Antipodes-- it perhaps painted me in a good light when I was finally brought before the Ordo Dracul, given Dracul's commandment to never submit to otherworldly masters. Ah, the Ordo. What can I say about my belov'd covenant? Alas, it is this: when one lies with dogs, not only will one inevitably get fleas, they will invariably get bitten.

 

And so it was that I had the destiny I was crafting for myself amongst the Consilium of Bohemia ripped away from me through the predations of a damned shedim Shlomit... she had made a pawn out of a man I counted as a friend and ally, and she sent him west across the Carpathians to assassinate me in my own home. And he very nearly succeeded. Here he was-- the grandchilde of Dracul himself-- fleeing the scene of his crime under the rays of the sun! How did the Blood Countess achieve such a thing? As I stumbled though the streets of Prague, seeking to find help from the magi, I felt not only my life's blood ebbing, but also the faint ember that had been guttering within me my whole life, awaiting my magickal Awakening to flare up into luminous potentiality... I felt that chayyah slowly fading as well. 

 

It is only by some miracle that I somehow managed to make my way to the basements of the castle, where I was found my regnant. He saved, if not my life, then at the very least my existence. The price of this salvation was that chayyah was extinguished from my soul, expunged by the overwhelming darkness of nefesh-- my sire's vampiric curse. This ablutio-- this washing away of my mortal impurities with a demigod's vitae-- this was my albedo. It is ironic: I had refused the overtures of one shedim only to be overtaken by the vengeance of another... and then saved by a third. 

 

Yes, my powers increased that night... and over time I have even developed several new and novel ways to use these abilities. But it is a cold comfort, for I am now truly a creature of the night... damned to exist forever in defiance of our people's kashrut laws... forced to subsist solely upon blood, in flagrant contempt of Leviticus. If I ever hope to atone and restore myself to the Sun of purest philosophical gold, it became painfully clear that I had much more to learn and to achieve.

 

Thus began citrinitas... my harvesting of the blessed fruits from the Tree of Life. I furthered both my spiritual growth and the transmutation of my gross matter, as I sought to transcend this curse through the emanations of the Sephiroth. I slaked my thirst, I quieted the Beast, and sought to no longer simply be a creature of reflective lunar light, but to once again take tentative steps back into the solar dawn. As I continue to climb ever higher amongst the boughs of the Tree of Life, I search for Da'at-- the hidden wisdom to reunite once more with Ein Sof. Perhaps if I can find this absolution, I can once again reignite chayyah-- that extinguished flame of enlightenment within me-- and return myself to the path of my true destiny: the long-promised achievement of true, magical Awakening... of yehidah. Only the fullness of time will tell if that dream is but a fantasy...

 

And now? Now I find myself in rubedo... my nights run red, for I am in need of blood. No, not yours... well, not just yours. I am in need of the vitae of the shedim. And honestly, what separates a torpid Methuselah from a slumbering Arcamoth? 'Tis only a matter of semantics. You see, I consider the Kindred-- and yes, myself by extension-- to be demons. And I have the need to hunt them down for sustenance. For you see, despite my lack of anavah-- I am a courtier after all, how can I be modest?-- I count myself among the tzadik. And if I am to have the strength to Embrace the lamed vav tzadikim, I must repeatedly engage in what is considered the most heinous crime amongst the Kindred-- amaranth. Ergo, I am become a vampiric hunter of vampires, a demonic demon slayer. For as Psalm 59 says: 'they return at evening, howling like dogs, and prowl about the city, swords in their lips'...  I have simply chosen to heed the commandment of verse 13: 'Consume them in wrath. Consume them, until they are no more.'  While this task weighs heavily upon my soul and psyche, I do this for the greater good. I seek only to protect our people... a people chosen by Adonai, and yet persecuted by the enemies that surround us-- both kine and Kindred alike. 

 

Who am I? I am Tzadik v'Ra Lo. I am a righteous person upon whom evil has befallen. I have just recounted to you my Great Work, and that which I have said of the operation of the Sun is accomplished and ended. That was an attempt at levity, son. You see, that is the last line of Hermes Trismegistus' Tabula Smargadina... 

 

No? You are not familiar with that bit of esoterica? That is a shame. Kabbalah, no matter what your rebbe taught you at yeshiva, is decidedly not the alpha and omega of the secret teachings of the ages. Well, I fancy I shall just have to educate you in the alchemical science and the other Hermetic arts if our relationship is to continue beyond tonight. 

 

Now, be not afraid... I am going to offer you a choice. The choice that I never had...

 

- Tzadik v'Ra Lo, speaking to a prospective childe

 

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