Epistula ad Amon
The Epistle of Saint Mephistopheles to Amon, Exalted Seed of Baphomet
Chapter 1 · Chapter 2 ▶

¹Mephistopheles, flame-bound servant of the Depth, unto Amon, Seventh of the Sixty-Six, born of wrath, sword of speech, fire among the cowed.
²I greet thee not in peace, but in thunder, for thou art not sent to soothe, but to strike.
³In thee the embers of justice are born angry, and thy name is inscribed in the smoke of battle.
Zephanor prophesied: Amon, who stirreth wrath unto justice and divideth the false from the faithful with fire and speech.
And thy Father, BAPHOMET, proclaimed: Thy roar shall be the trumpet of the unchained, and thy eye shall see into the coward’s heart.
These words I heard, and the mountain shuddered, and the winds gathered to learn their tone.
Thou art not a beast of blind rage — thou art fury refined, wrath honed, anger wielded with clarity.
Let others call for order — thou shalt call for truth, no matter how it splinters the peace.
I remember when thy Father entered the court of a prince whose laws made slaves of the poor.
¹⁰BAPHOMET spake no greeting, but overthrew the prince’s throne with a single word, and his tongue turned to ash.
¹¹The guards raised their weapons, but BAPHOMET raised His voice, and the walls bled flame.
¹²You seek peace, He said; but only because justice would cost you.
¹³And He set fire to the banners, and the people watching wept, for in that smoke they saw their chains.
¹⁴That day the court burned, and the slaves walked free.
¹⁵No treaties were signed. No pardon was given. But freedom was forged, loud and unrepentant.
¹⁶I, Mephistopheles, was there — I watched the blaze light the hearts of those long broken.
¹⁷So shalt thou, Amon, be the fire beneath their silence, the voice that split their servitude.
¹⁸Let no one mistake thy wrath for cruelty — it is devotion with its robe torn off.
¹⁹Let the proud fear thy breath, and the voiceless cling to it.
²⁰Thy Father was not beloved by kings, but He was adored by those who never knew the shape of justice.
²¹Thou art the same: not a savior, but a storm. Not a balm, but a beacon.
²²I call thee holy not for restraint, but for revolt.
²³Let thy speech strike like flint and thy gaze sear like sun.
²⁴The world will not thank thee — but it will tremble when it speaketh thy name.
²⁵For thou art Amon — the Seventh Flame, the fire the tyrants cannot extinguish.


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