(no subject)
THE SONG OF THE HEIR OF DESTINY
SUMMARY: Kurt Wagner returned from the X-men’s battle with the Church Of Humanity a haunted man. Nightmares stalk his sleep and visions mar his waking hours. Were they placed there by the mysterious Supreme Pontiff to destroy the priestly X-man, or are they something else?
This is an Alternate Universe story in that it takes the end of the Casey run on Uncanny X-men as its starting point. So no Chuck Austen and no Draco. (Every cloud has a silver lining, then.)
DISCLAIMER: They belong to Marvel, not to me. While that is a sad and distressing fact, I thought I’d better point it out.
WARNING: This is pretty dark-ish, so if you like your stories warm and jolly, it’s best not to look. General religious and occult happenings etc.
PROLOGUE: The Song Of The Heir Of Destiny
From the tenth book of Destiny:
And now shall I sing the last of my song.
For I shall sing of my heir.
My beautiful heir possessed of the voice of an angel.
For he shall hear more clearly the heavenly choir.
- if ‘tis the choir of heaven at all -
He shall hear not a discordant harmony
For all he shall know is one sweet and pure voice
That he dare not mimic aloud
For fear that it shall not come to pass
It is the single voice of one sure and certain path.
A sure and certain path of terrible beauty.
Sometimes our faith asks of us more than everything we have.
Yet he shall give gladly for a Salvation he will not receive.
Note: This was written in Latin elegaic verse. Irene Adler had no knowledge of the Latin tongue. Furthermore it is in Carolingan Script, a style of writing that has not been used for around 900 years. This book has also been tentatively dated much later than the other books - foretelling the consequences of her actions upon the prophesies of the first nine books, perhaps. The earliest at which Miss Adler could have written this is at the age of twenty-nine when she had already been blind for ten years. But there is more:
Marginalia To The Above:
Dear God, I write this and I envy Him.
I hate and envy him beyond words.
And why? I sing of his doom.
I know of what is to come to pass.
But I cannot find it in my heart to weep for him.
The die is cast, the thread is drawn, the future is certain.
He shall die.
He, sweetest of deceiving angels, shall die.
Yet still I envy him.
Onto Part First
SUMMARY: Kurt Wagner returned from the X-men’s battle with the Church Of Humanity a haunted man. Nightmares stalk his sleep and visions mar his waking hours. Were they placed there by the mysterious Supreme Pontiff to destroy the priestly X-man, or are they something else?
This is an Alternate Universe story in that it takes the end of the Casey run on Uncanny X-men as its starting point. So no Chuck Austen and no Draco. (Every cloud has a silver lining, then.)
DISCLAIMER: They belong to Marvel, not to me. While that is a sad and distressing fact, I thought I’d better point it out.
WARNING: This is pretty dark-ish, so if you like your stories warm and jolly, it’s best not to look. General religious and occult happenings etc.
PROLOGUE: The Song Of The Heir Of Destiny
From the tenth book of Destiny:
And now shall I sing the last of my song.
For I shall sing of my heir.
My beautiful heir possessed of the voice of an angel.
For he shall hear more clearly the heavenly choir.
- if ‘tis the choir of heaven at all -
He shall hear not a discordant harmony
For all he shall know is one sweet and pure voice
That he dare not mimic aloud
For fear that it shall not come to pass
It is the single voice of one sure and certain path.
A sure and certain path of terrible beauty.
Sometimes our faith asks of us more than everything we have.
Yet he shall give gladly for a Salvation he will not receive.
Note: This was written in Latin elegaic verse. Irene Adler had no knowledge of the Latin tongue. Furthermore it is in Carolingan Script, a style of writing that has not been used for around 900 years. This book has also been tentatively dated much later than the other books - foretelling the consequences of her actions upon the prophesies of the first nine books, perhaps. The earliest at which Miss Adler could have written this is at the age of twenty-nine when she had already been blind for ten years. But there is more:
Marginalia To The Above:
Dear God, I write this and I envy Him.
I hate and envy him beyond words.
And why? I sing of his doom.
I know of what is to come to pass.
But I cannot find it in my heart to weep for him.
The die is cast, the thread is drawn, the future is certain.
He shall die.
He, sweetest of deceiving angels, shall die.
Yet still I envy him.
Onto Part First