SECOND CIRCLE: THE BOOK OF THE OWL

i have lost my faith
in silence

— Patricia de la Forge, “Grin”

THE MIDNIGHT GARDEN

EDITOR'S NOTES

This “firsthand account” comes from two direct sources: the recitations of a Bahari priestess, and the Greek scroll I discovered in an antiquarian’s collection. This scholar, a rather refined (if corpulent) Hindu named Jureem, begged several clan secrets from me as a boon for his aid. (I suspect the archon would like to have a word with me about that!) In return, he gave me the scroll, an assistant and a place to study. For seventeen restless nights, I pored over the notes; my aide seemed tireless, and worked during the day as well. The translation we deciphered bore a slight resemblance to the canticle I witnessed in the Bahari ceremony; as usual, I melded the two into a single account.

I believe this fragmentary testament is one version of the infamous “Cycle of Lilith.” It touches on many of the important spots of the Caine/Lilith myth, but approaches them from the Dark Queen’s perspective. Likewise, it offers a suggestion for the strife between most Kindred and the Bahari; whether taken symbolically (as a tale of warlike patriarchal cultures overrunning the mystic matriarchs who raised them) or literally (as the betrayal of one demigod by another), “The Midnight Garden’s” genocidal conclusion certainly paves the way for several millennia of ill will.

I: THE FIRST PEACE

In the Formless Lands I raised a garden to myself,
Uniting worlds and words and blood into a bramble.
With a mother’s care I birthed a sea of fresh and tangled roots,
Of blood-blossom flowers and charcoal stalks.
And it glowed as I glowed
Beneath the moon.

Ahi hay Lilitu

I raised a garden out of emptiness
And fruit from barren soil.
In my mantle of the night
I swept across it and watered it with blood.

Ahi hay Lilitu

I raised a garden out of emptiness
And fruit from barren soil.

II: THE DAYS BEFORE

In the Formless Lands I wandered
In the days before the garden,
Purged from the lands of the One Above
And cast into the friendless waste.
My blood hung sweet upon my lips
In the days before the garden,
And I wept for the home I had left behind
With eyes as dry as sand.
And the sun burned at me.
And the wind tore at me.
And the rocks cut my flesh.
And the water was denied me,
Save that which I drew from within myself.
So blasted, bare and desolate was this land
In the days before the garden,
That no beast could attend me,
Not Owl, nor Cat, nor Serpent.¹
My voice was lost in emptiness.

Ahi hay Lilitu

My voice was lost in nothing.
Yet the garden grew within me
A swelling belly ripe
With seeds of stolen fruit
And their lingering bitter taste.
For there are no fruits so sweet
As those which burn.

Ahi hay Lilitu

My pain made me a mountain.
It burned me into ashes
And from ashes I arose.

Ahi hay Lilitu

My pain made me a mountain,
But like a worm I burrowed into the sands
And walked by night,
For the days were too bright to endure
Without screaming profanations at the One Above²
Who cast me into formlessness.
In the wastelands, I created form.

Ahi hay Lilitu

I found myself in the wastelands,
Where my eyes grew wide,
And my mind reached out,
And my flesh became water,
And my bones became stone,
And my feet quickened their pace,
And my shadow grew faint and hid from the sun³
Until the coming of the cool night
When my pains would fall away
Leaving me wiser for their lessons.
Excruciation had made me free.

III: THE OCEAN AND ALL ITS CREATURES⁴

When I reached the shores of the Endless Sea
I threw myself into the depths and sank forever.
I forgot to breathe, and soon no longer needed to.
My skin, once brown, then black, turned back
Upon itself and slipped away
As I vomited the brood of the One Above⁵
Into the swirling abyss
Where they became the myriad creatures of the sea.
I howled with pain into the waters
For my hunger was a beast inside
And my belly was filled with the spawn
Of the Shining One whose seed
Had birthed the Garden where I was born.
I could not contain His brood,
So I sent them into the Endless Sea to find a home below.

Ahi hay Lilitu

I sent them into the depths alone.
Soon my offspring soothed my hunger
For food, for beauty, for company of many kinds.
My hunger was eternal.
My hunger is eternal,
And I devoured myself
To sustain myself.
In my ageless stay, I birthed new broods
Who in turn devoured the old.
And thus the Endless Sea was filled.

Ahi hay Lilitu

I filled the Endless Sea,
Screaming my birth-pains into the airless void.

IV: RETURN TO EDEN

In time, I tired of the sea
And returned to the Formless Lands.
I wished to create a garden like the one which had been
My home,
But the sea was filled with the gardens of another,⁶
And while I could bide there awhile,
That dominion was not mine to claim.
And so I returned across the Formless Lands,
Walking into Eden.

Ahi hay Lilitu

I walked across the sands to Eden.
Watching from afar with the owl’s eyes⁷
I espied Grand Lucifer,
Shining bearer of the Sun and Stars,
Standing across the threshold with a blade.

Ahi hay Lilitu

He stood with a blade in his hands.

V: LILITH AND LUCIFER

O knight with seraphim’s wings
Dressed black like the sky you gave me
Heart like the star for which you are named
Eyes like the sunset waves
Call to me through darkness
Shed your blood to feed my thirst and take mine
As offerings to your hunger.

Ahi hay Lucifii

Chase me into the unformed lands and let us fall
Laughing into the abyss of gods
Where we might make a garden of our own
And people it with deities,
Thorns and vines and guardian palms.
O Angel of the Dawn,
Let us water it with silver and drink
Of its bounty as the fruits of
My love for you blossom
Into strange and wild flowers.
O Lucifer, so silent, let your blade
Fall to the sand and be buried
Like a bone tossed to the vanity
Of the One Above.
Let your wings enfold me.
Be at peace.

Ahi hay Lucifii

Be at peace.

VI: THE COMING OF CAINE⁸

As my love carried the sun
I met a broken man
A farmer with no crops to tend
A father without get, a child without sires,
And I was amazed, for he bore no signs of godhood
But wandered in the dust like a lesser beast.
He bore the marks of Adam
He bore the pallor of Eve
He bore the scars of the One Above⁹
And he wept, for all these he had lost.

Ahi hay Lilitu

All these he had lost.
I called out to him, and he answered
In a voice like snapping twigs.
“I am Lilith,” said I;
“I am Caine,” said he,
And I pitied him
Yet I hated him
For he bore the scent of Adam,
The touch of Eve
And the haunted eyes of the One Above.
Like that One, Caine bore a swirling stain
In the air around him, a mark
Of some dark, unfathomed power.
Murder, he possessed,
The power to kill the higher beings—
Not to hunt as Adam had,
But to kill as had Jehovah.¹⁰

Ahi hay Lilitu

Caine possessed the mark of death.
So I took him into my garden and I taught him.

Ahi hay Lilitu

I taught him lessons of pain.
Alone he was, in darkness.
Although bathed in light, he walked in shadow¹¹
And wrapped his arms against the cold.
I took him in
With words of succor.
With words of surcease.
My eyes pierced the darkness of his torment
My voice stilled the cold within his bones
And I held him like a child
As if he were the son of my birth-mate and myself.
I wept with him, for he was as my own son

Ahi hay Lilitu

Like my own son with another.
“I know you, Caine of Nod,” I said to him,
“Come! Strip off your garment, so tattered and bloodstained;
“Enter my garden as a child, for a child you are—
“Son of my birth-mate, struck down by my first lover.
“You have no secrets here,
“You have no sins here,
“So come ye naked into my home.¹²
“As you are now, so I once was.”
And he followed me, naked
Into the garden of Lilith and Lucifer
At my feet did Caine of Nod kneel,
As he had knelt before the fury of the One Above.
His eyes could not look upon me,
His voice was broken and hollow,
And I grew angered at his shameful state,
How he cowered before his judgment like a lesser thing.
For him I made my garden a place of horror,
Betraying him even as he had betrayed his flesh.¹³
I gave of my blood and anointed him with it,
That he might become abomination unto my dwelling.
And the skies above my garden frowned,
And the air was thick with the hiss of
Serpent, shriek of Owl, roar of Cat.
“Go, Caine of Nod, for this is the garden you have sown,
“And its fruits you must reap.”
He stumbled into the garden’s depths
And I followed,
Laughing, lashing him with burning brands.
For many a day and night did I teach him,
Teach him the secrets of the garden.
As my thorns rent him,
So did his flesh become a net of scars.
As my vines sought to snare him,
So did his limbs quicken.
Caine of Nod learned to hide from the torments of the garden,
To know my coming like a wild beast knows its hunter.
Over the Serpent, the Owl, the Cat he learned dominion.
And, as he grew strong in agony,
Pride flashed from his eyes
And the fires of my brands blazed from his heart.¹⁴
One day, he would flee no more,
But stood and let his blood flow about him,
Nurturing my garden.
And, anointing himself with his blood
As I had anointed him with mine,
He fell into a trance
From which I would not awaken him.
I left him there, returning to my house,¹⁵
For I had no dealings with the coming hosts.
Then unto him came Michael,¹⁶
Burning Host of the Flame,
Bearing tidings of mercy from the One Above.
And Caine, proud Caine,
Son of Adam,
Strengthened by my garden,
Declared that he alone would grant mercy unto himself.
So Michael visited the Curse of Fire upon Caine of Nod.
And I smiled, for it pleased me.
Then unto him came Raphael,
Lambent Host of the Dawn,
Bearing tidings of forgiveness from the One Above.
And Caine, proud Caine,
Son of Adam,
Strengthened by my garden,
Declared that he alone would judge his actions.
So Raphael visited the Curse of Dawn upon Caine of Nod,
And I smiled, for it pleased me.
Then unto him came Uriel,
Shrouded Host of the Deep,
Bearing tidings of surcease from the One Above.
And Caine, proud Caine,
Son of Adam,
Strengthened by my garden,
Declared that he and all his children to come
Would rest only when he saw fit.¹⁷
So Uriel visited the Curse of Ashes upon Caine of Nod.
Once more, as Caine hid in darkness,
Did I come upon him.
“Verily,” I said,
“You have tended my garden well, as a farmer should.”
And, understanding, he cursed me
With ashes, with wormwood and with barrenness,

Ahi hay Lilitu

With these things he cursed me
As he disappeared into the night.

VII: THE CHILDREN

In the days after, we tended our land
And watered it with love.
In time, the fruits of D’hainu
Rose like hillocks upon the belly of the world.
The labor was hard, but my love was beside me.
Owl watched from the skies,
Cat prowled like a shadow,
Serpent nestled beneath my breasts,
Lucifer held my hands in his
And I gave up the nectar of joy and sorrow.
Three boys are they, and they are as hyssop.
Three girls are they, and they are as pomegranate.¹⁸
Blessed be they, the fruits of my womb!
For they shine like the high moon and like the sun at midday.
And the sons I name Kessep and Shotheq and Nesher
And the daughters I name Mem and Oreb and Laylah.¹⁹
Blessed are my sons!
Blessed are my daughters!
For they have given solace to the sun
And they have given comfort to the moon.

Ahi hay Lilitu

Ahi hay Lucifii

For they have birthed D’hainu,
The Garden of Renewal,
And have peopled it with stars.

VIII: THE RAPE OF D'HAINU

In joy and sorrow, our garden grew
Until it reached the edges of the Endless Sea.
Owl was fruitful
Cat was fruitful
Serpent was fruitful
And our children were as lights in the sky.
Though a shadow of Eden, D’hainu rivaled Eden
Whose tall trees and rushing waters were long since dust.
Until the return of Caine
And his cursed childer,
Our garden grew
And we were every day in love.
On a day black as ashes, the killer returned
When Lucifer carried the sky through the storms.²⁰
Caine’s hands bore the hate stones and the blade of revenge.
His childer followed in a locust-cloud behind him.
Like jackels, they fell upon the children of D’hainu.
Like wolves, they feasted on flesh.
Like beetles, they carried away the fruits of the garden
And burned D’hainu to embers.

Di halla Lilitu²¹

D’hainu is no more.

IX: THE CURSE UPON CAINE AND HIS OFFSPRING²²

Ahi hay Lilitu

All curse the House of Caine!

Ahi hay Lilitu

Let them be consumed!
Salt be upon the tongues of Brujah, Tzimisce and Setite²³
Who slaughtered the children of Lilith and Lucifer!
Lamentations be upon the tongues of Ventrue, Lasombra and Malkavian
Who fired the trees and poisoned the rivers!
Coals be upon the tongues of Ravnos and Cappadocian, Salubri²⁴ and Gangrel
Who like beasts devoured the flesh of the children!
Maggots be upon the tongues of Assamite,
Most cursed of all,
Who carried away the secrets of D’hainu
And hid them far beneath the earth.²⁵
And cursed be their father,
Their thrice-damn’d father,
All suffering be upon the Father of Night
For he is the flame in the fields of D’hainu!
Rot devour the loins of Caine,
Whose rough hands cast down the Mother of D’hainu,
Profaning her with his breath and his touch and his seed.
Filth encrust the eyes of Caine,
Whose seed burned like fire within the Mother of D’hainu,
Defiling her womb and rending her heart.
Teeth fall from the mouth of Caine,
Whose childer ravaged the flowers of D’hainu,
Until all Creation wept at the sound and the sight!
Only Nosferatu and Toreador shall be spared,
For they veiled the faces
Of the slain ones.
In pity, they watered the lips of the children and
Gave solace to the mother of the dead.
All others shall be consumed with fire
And bent like trees in the storm
And broken like pottery
And trampled like dung
And washed away like dust!

Ahi hay Lilitu

Like dust, they shall be cleansed!

X: ASHES

Caine laughed as he left my garden that day;
His accursed brood smiled at what they had wrought.
To their city of walls and slavery, they fled,²⁶
Leaving us to weep in the ruins they left.
And I cursed them all
With ashes, with wormwood and with barrenness,

Ahi hay Lilitu

With these things I cursed them.
My love, my Shining One,
Smote them with the blade of day.

Ahi hay Lucifii

With sunlight he cursed them.
My hand smote the Cainites
With the agony of night.
Together, we smote Caine
With the hatred of his childer
That he might breed enemies against himself.
And he did.
And we did.
My love left me
Upon midnight wings.
Our bond is broken
And all is ashes now.

Ahi hay Lilitu

All is ashes now.

THE RITES OF CAINE

EDITOR'S NOTE

My companions (referred to in the “notes” section earlier in this book) performed this rite with me at the height of the full moon some years ago. The old man gave me this transcription, which I’ve tried to keep intact. In all my research, this is the only written Bahari ritual I’ve come across.

The Rite itself involved my friends, a handful of their fellows, and thirteen captives, each drugged, hypnotized and led telepathically through his or her paces by a vampire whose name I never heard. The captives represented the childer of Caine, and performed their roles with gusto; not surprisingly, they seemed perturbed when the “dead” children of Lilith — played by vampiric Bahari — returned to life, ripped them open, dismembered them and consecrated the ceremony with their vital fluids.

As custom dictates, the Rite of Caine I attended was performed nude at midwinter, in a sacred garden of roses, vines, ivy and stones. Several of the plants I saw there were mysteries to me, but then I’m no botanist. A cold wind whipped the participants (myself included) into numbness as the Rite went on. I believe the winter frost is supposed to represent the spiritual chill of Caine’s genocide, the sorrow of Lilith and Lucifer, and the barrenness that followed their separation. The biting cold helped emphasize the lesson of pain, too; even the undead among us felt its sting. The effects of that cold on the mortal participants can only be imagined

PART ONE: THE RITE OF DEATH

This rite originated with the first of the Blood Bahari, and is one performed and witnessed almost exclusively by those of their number. However, there are those mortal souls who for various reasons (in the main, curiosity) choose to partake in this annual ceremony. It is not for the squeamish, nor for the weak of heart. At its core, the ritual is about sacrifice, pain and retribution — a fitting reflection of our Mother.

The first part of this ritual is best described rather than transcribed. The participants gather naked in the dead of winter within the meeting place. Usually, the way there is rife with thorns, brambles and briars. Many participants hurl themselves into the heaviest snarls, gleefully rending their flesh as they pull free. As such, each is covered in his own blood, his flesh singing with pain as he enters the clearing.

To one end of the expanse waits a large bonfire, burning. Directly opposite this lies a pool of water, often frozen to a thin sheen or bobbing with shards of ice. Once the observers are in place, the officiants — the priestess and priest, if you will — arrive, each carrying a flagellum. After a brief exchange of embraces and kisses, the two begin slowly to arouse each other with kisses and caresses of the most intimate kinds. As passions begin to build, both officiants employ briars and thorned flowers in their mating dance. Soon thereafter, the flagella are employed as well. When both officiants are glistening with sweat and blood, the two exchange a kiss. The priestess then immerses herself in the icy waters of the pool (signifying the descent of our Mother into the Endless Sea) and the priest passes fully through the flames of the bonfire (representing Lucifer’s light and the fire of initiation). It is said that when the two officiants subject themselves to these tortures, the pain sends their souls aloft into the aether, allowing the Lightbringer and Lilith themselves to manifest within the waiting bodies. Having witnessed this Rite for the past five years, I can attest to the fact that both parties are in some way transformed.

With incantations I can replicate only in vague fashion, the bloodied officiants call forth ghosts and spirits, thusly:

Priestess: Nachash el marhim arik no kofelo. Shelach no komair neshia aparm! Bahari latwaa — Bahari latwaa. Baruk hamaat, baruk hamaat! Artri Lilhitu!
Priest: Lammanas! Lammanas! Kol fetu hattabus! Nachash no goash aral to ari. Yin soquaa ahni anaka. Lakhil alhil kataab. Yin soquaa ali. Artri Lilhitu!

Amid a great deal of clamor and harsh weather, the spirits manifest. As the ritual progresses, these ghosts watch with somber resolve, then enter the celebration upon an agreed-upon signal.

Now that all is in readiness, the ritual can begin in earnest. The priestess calls forth the Children. Into the clearing come six of the Blood (that is to say, Lhaka), each one of them beautiful, gleaming and unscathed in the moonlight. Next the captives are brought forth — thirteen of them in number, each one representing one of the Cainite clans and wearing a stylized mask that embodies his or her designated role. These unfortunates are often derelicts, captive vampires, or other enemies of the Blood. Entranced and spellbound by an unseen master, these surrogates move into the arena and stand aloof, awaiting their next instructions.

There is a brief exchange of dialogue which goes thusly:

An unseen voice, apparently a symbolic manifestation of Caine, says: Who are you that stand here in Lilith’s Garden?

The Children reply: We are the Children of Lilith, who have tasted of her heart’s blood and eaten of the sacred fruits.

Caine: Behold the Children of she who has starved us!
Children: You lie! She starved you not!
Caine: Behold the Children of she who has denied us!
Children: You lie! She denied you nothing!
Caine: Behold the Children of she who has cursed us!
Children: You lie! The curse is of your own doing!
Caine: Come forth, my childer! Lay waste to this garden and defile the brood of the Dark Mother!

At this point, eleven of the captives are commanded into a wild frenzy and set themselves upon the beautiful Children before them. The other two, representing Toreador and Nosferatu, turn their backs to the violence and take no part. The following slaughter is both poetic and horrific. Per the commands of the unseen master, the Cainite surrogates leap upon their prey like dogs, ripping away the tender parts, then setting to work with teeth and nails. The brambles of the garden are often employed, as are various stones and branches left about for this purpose. The ghosts at the edge of the circle watch hungrily as the blood spills. Their strength heightened by the puppetmaster, the surrogates rip the Children limb from limb, satiate themselves on the blood and bowels, lift torches from the fire and ignite the surrounding bushes.

Meanwhile, Toreador and Nosferatu go solemnly about the circle three times, dip their fingers in the pool, then wet the dead lips of the Children as if to give them a final drink. After that, these two take sheer veils from behind their masks and drape them across the faces of the slain. When that is done, the murderers — for that is what the other surrogates have become — bear the tattered bodies toward the flames.

At this time, the priestess raises her hand. All motion ceases. The priest, too, raises his hand. Together they intone the following chant:

Priestess: The blood of my Children cries out to me in pain! The blood of my Children cries out to me in death! The blood of my Children cries out to me for vengeance! Begone, Spawn of Caine! Your damnation I declare!
Priest: Vomitous Spawn of Caine! Clods of shit and dust! You dare to rise up against my beautiful children? You dare to violate my Garden of Renewal? You dare to wound the heart of my beloved? Then feast on my wrath, and feast well! For as you have had her heart, so I shall have yours!
Priestess: Rise, my children, rise up! Let your living blood flow into these thorns and briars! Let your blood stir these choking vines! Rise my children, and take your revenge! Scatter their flesh to the ends of the earth!

PART TWO: THE RITES OF REVENGE

Once the words are spoken by the priestess, drummers at the edge of the circle begin to play. The dismembered Children rise. As they do so, their wounds melt away and the Children become whole again. Then, in an instant, all control over the captives is released. They soon realize their situation and try to flee. It is then that the spirits around the circle are released.

Toreador and Nosferatu are allowed to flee. Doubtless, these captives take wild stories back with them if they survive their run toward civilization. The eleven murderers are seized by the vines, the brambles and the trees surrounding the circle, or are borne down by the Children themselves. Their fate from that point onward is quite ghastly.

The particulars of the Rite vary. In all cases, the surrogates meet painful, gruesome deaths. Their bodies are rent asunder. Their blood is used to fertilize the plants. Their cries become a chorus, often rising and falling with the rhythm of the drums. From their vantage point, the priestess and priest make certain that the surrogates perish slowly.

As blood spills, the drummers reach a frenzy. The ghosts and spirits possess the Rite’s participants. Any parties who have remained aloof until this point now join in. Many copulate madly in the circle, warming their chilled limbs with fresh blood and body heat. The officiants lead the revel, taking as many partners as they can reach. As the drummers tire and the captives die, the frenzy slows to a pulse, then fades into silence. When the last surrogate has expired, the music stops.

One by one, the priestess and priest go among the surrogates. As they reach each one, they rip out the heart and spleen, eat them and consign the mask to the fire.

When all clans have been addressed, they speak in unison:

Priestess and Priest: This is the justice of Lilith and Lucifer! This is the fate of the childer of Caine!
Priestess: Caine, Son of Eve and spawn of Adam the Defiler, you shall reap sevenfold the bitter herbs of my vengeance!
Priest: Caine, Son of Eve and spawn of the First Man, you shall burn in the pleasure of the sun!
Both: Forever are we set against you and yours! Your Childer shall rise up against you and each other, and they shall do unto you far worse than you have done unto us. Forever shall the fruit of the gardens be denied to you, and you shall ever roam the earth in misery. This is the Mother’s Curse.
All respond: So it is spoken! So it is done! Bahari laitee Lilitu! Bahari laitee Lilitu! Bahari laitee Lilitu! So it is done!

The priestess breaks the circle and dismisses the spirits thusly:

Priestess: Go forth upon the wind to harry the childer of Caine. I release you from your summons and bid you good hunting and farewell. I thank you. Go in peace. Artri Lilhitu. Artri Lilhitu.

The priest touches the priestess’ face, then turns his back, walks away from her, passes through the fire again and disappears into the shadows. The Children step out of the circle and retreat to the trees. The spirits fade away. The fires are extinguished and the clearing goes dark.

The priestess falls to her knees, weeps and gathers the ashes of the masks, then scatters them among the brambles. When that task is finished, she walks slowly to the pool, kneels at its edge and lowers herself in.

When she sinks below the ice, the Rite is ended. All parties depart.

THE LAMENT FOR LUCIFER

EDITOR'S NOTE

I heard this haunting chant performed by a Bahari priestess of the mortal persuasion. I have no idea how old it is, nor what its source might be. She spoke the words like a lover’s prayer, caressing each syllable with cold passion. Not wanting to miss a word, I closed my eyes and let the chant carve pictures in my mind. When the invocation was finished and the circle was broken, I spared my hosts the indignities of Tzimisce inquiries, then buried their corpses in the garden they held so sacred. For sustenance, I relied upon my own tears. The garden, I watered with their vitae. It seemed sacrilege to do otherwise.

---

Close my eyes to the sunlight,
My Morning Star, my storm.
Fold your wings in grace and take your leave of me.
Taste my blessings as you go.
We will not lie as one again
For my womb is a garden of rot.
My heart is ashes.
My tears are blood.
Hunt well, my breath, and take with you
The bones of our children, wrapped in palm leaves.
Scatter them to the horizon and allay their cries.
I shall tend a grave of deep water
And shall wash away our enemies.
Bide well, my desert wind,
Hold aloft your blade and oil it with tears.
I shall be the owl upon the nightwind,
The cat with silent paws
And the serpent at the heels of Caine.
I shall be the seed of tears, but my eyes shall be sand and silence,
My heart shall be the desert and the sea,
And my cry shall be the owl gone hunting
As the sun departs my sky.
Weep not, my beloved,
But hold me close in your distant chase.
We shall be the thorns of ruined Eden
Forget me not
Sun to my moon
Cry to my silence.