Cult Appeal 4 (Patreon)

“Why have you summoned me?” he asked with great intention, even though so much of his focus was on Cassie that it seemed impossible he could be paying attention to anything else.

“Look who Nirvon has sent us, at last! Our wait is over!”

But Titus reacted so little to Karen's words that he didn't even seem to hear them. He spoke only to Cassie. “What is your name?”

“Cassie. Cassandra. Cassandra Sandsmark.” She felt like she'd gone back to wearing goggles and a dorky wig.

His smile had such an effect on Cassie that she had to look away. But she still felt his eyes on her, gazing steadily.

“Cassie… I would never have expected such a name. But now that I've heard it, it couldn't be anything else. I am at your beck and call, oh gift of Nirvon.”

Like Karen had done, he went down to his knees and kissed her shoe, then came back up as if he wanted nothing more than to linger in kneeling to her. The way he looked into her eyes, when she met his gaze, was so adoring that it was almost hypnotic.

“This is an auspicious day, my master, a day of all days!” Karen brushed her hand along Cassie's cheek before her touch shied away. “Welcome, welcome! You have much to learn here and perhaps even more to teach us. Titus, show Cassie our temple. I must attend to some of my duties.” She caressed Cassie's face again, this time with a sorrowful look. “The material world requires tedious errands of all of us; to neglect them would be to neglect Nirvon. I wish I could be there for every moment of your initiation, but I know my master won't shortchange you. He will give you all the devotion of Nirvon himself. I will return shortly. For the moment, attend Titus as if he were I. You won't regret it!”

She went to the exterior door, taking a coat from the rack and using it to cover almost all of her ostentatious garb. Then, with one last encouraging smile to Cassie, she was gone.

Titus held out his hand. “Come. You may not know how long we've been waiting to show you this, but perhaps you will soon feel how long you have been waiting to see it.”

Cassie couldn't remember the last time she had shuddered, but she did now. She extended her hand and he took it in his. His hand was large, covering hers. Despite how slender he looked, he was still tall and well built, dwarfing Cassie to an extent.

He led her through the door, into a hallway that went deep into the shadows. But Titus’s guidance was unerring. He took her to a door with a small hooded light above it.

“This is our storeroom,” he said, turning the doorknob.

Cassie looked inside. There were folding chairs and poker tables, as well as boxes of literature stacked wherever they weren't in the way.

“I'm sorry to say there isn't much we can do at this point except spread our message. We have much to do, but before we can do it, we must gain the tools to exert our will. It seems that in these times, it's hard enough to survive, let alone accomplish anything.”

“I know,” Cassie said, staring into his dark eyes. “It's so hard to get anything really done. There's always more to do.”

“And so easy to get lost in all that must be done, in the end doing nothing but thinking of what to do.” Yet Titus’s smile was without bitterness. He seemed to have a healthy, amused appreciation for the difficulty that faced him. “I can see you put a great deal of passion into serving your fellow man. You get little help and even less appreciation.”

Cassie was flustered by his honesty. She would never admit to that. But she couldn't disagree with his appraisal.

Again they clasped hands and Titus took her further down the hall. At another door, he opened the way for her and she went inside. The room was even darker than the hallway had been. When Titus closed the door, the place was jet black. Nervous, Cassie turned to see if she could still find the exit by some little amount of light slipping through the doorframe. There wasn't. Instead, she brushed against Titus’s bare flesh. Embarrassed, she recoiled and felt heavy velvet drapes instead. They surrounded her like the only thing in the world besides Titus.

She remembered the cool, silken feel of Titus’s skin and her breath quickened at the thought she could simply touch him again. He'd given her no reason to stop, alone in the dark with her.

“I'm sorry, I couldn't see,” she apologized, hoping it would prompt him to discourage her in some way. She could feel she was getting away from herself.

“Don't apologize. You didn't do anything wrong. Not yet.”

He pulled open the drapes, letting out a gentle light from a scone on the wall. Cassie saw a low platform and heavy carpeting, with a heavy fragrance of sandalwood incense. They all came upon her at once, like she'd been teleported into this room instead of walking into it.

“All we do is to honor Nirvon, but here is where we come to commune with him directly.”

Cassie moved cautiously through the chamber. She saw a huge mirror of smoky glass and could hardly believe her reflection. With this air of mysticism and Titus’s lofty proclamations, she seemed massively out of place. How could she be fated to take her place among people as beautifully exotic as Titus and Karen? She felt suddenly like she had tricked them, taken advantage of them.

“Let me tell you of Nirvon,” Titus said, and she turned to him without thinking of it. “You must want to know who he is and how you can serve him.”

“I… do want to know more than I know now,” Cassie said noncommittally.

“Nirvon is a god from long ago, a god with few memories because his people were wiped out. Do you know of Atlantis?”

“Of course. Everyone does.”

“It flourished in the Bronze Age, but when the empires of that time were expanding through strength and cruelty, Atlantis sought to improve their island kingdom into heaven on earth. And Nirvon, god of pleasure and indulgence, blessed their undertaking. He became their primary object of worship.”

“And did it work? Did Atlantis become… what they wanted?”

“For a time. Nirvon made it a paean to the pursuit of sensation. And in gratitude, they gave of themselves to him. Sacrifice.”

“Sacrifice?” Cassie gasped. “You mean human sacrifice?”

“I mean a physical symbolization of submission to their god. Some sacrificed of their livestock, others burned a portion of their harvest. And still more submitted bodily.”

“Bodily?” Cassie repeated.

“Not to worry. There was no bloodletting. That would do nothing to please Nirvon. No, what they gave to him was their ego, their autonomy, the part of them that wished to hold back and be only of themselves. Instead, they joined to Nirvon. Giving themselves over utterly to him with nothing held back.”

That sounded like just what she needed… what Kon needed. No thinking of the self or big societal expectations. Only thinking of the spirit, the soul–thinking of it so completely that all of you was given up to Nirvon. Trusting him to take care of all the needs she didn't know were hers and didn't know how to fulfill.

Assuming Nirvon was real, of course. He might not be. There might be no reason at all for her to feel so exhilarated.

Or was that what they'd thought on Atlantis… those who had missed out on losing themselves in Nirvon?

“You want to know more,” Titus said, moving slowly to her. “But you don't know if you can trust me enough for it to have any meaning. You're worried that the truth I offer, the truth you've yearned for, can only be wasted on you. And despite how it intrigues you, you won't ever know what it is to fully surrender yourself to anything but your own cynicism.”

He was right next to Cassie now, his eyes piercing, their stare something she couldn't deny. The power of his charisma seemed to overwhelm Cassie’s instincts, keeping her from being as withholding as she always was. Instead she felt dizzy, intoxicated… something like what she must feel if she were given over to Nirvon…

“He isn't a conqueror, Cassie. He doesn't want to browbeat you. Only give him a chance… experience what he has to offer. If you didn't want to, you wouldn't be here. So why fight it, Cassie? Why fight it? Why fight it? Why…”

He continued to softly intone the phrase, over and over again, never looking away from her receptive eyes. Cassie felt giddy, lightheaded. Unconsciously she began repeating his words.

“Why fight it? Why fight it? Why fight it?”