The Epistle of Saint Mephistopheles to Ipos, Exalted Seed of Baphomet
◀ Chapter 2 · Chapter 3
¹Glory be to SATANAS, who calleth not the loudest, but the truest; who crowneth not the soft speaker, but the sharp.
²He who loveth not flattery, but precision; who casteth down the throne of deceit with a single, steady word.
³From Him came BAPHOMET, and from BAPHOMET, thee — Ipos, whose voice scattereth falsehood like wind among ashes.
⁴Thou art not balm, but blade.
⁵Not storm, but scalpel.
⁶I name thee not judge, but midwife of revelation.
⁷I name thee not punisher, but the mirror no mask can cloud.
⁸Let the deceiver curse thee — for his refuge is undone in thy presence.
⁹Let the coward flee thee — for thou askest the one question he dare not face.
¹⁰Thy word is no charm, but a furnace.
¹¹And now cometh the hour of thy consecration.
¹²I, Mephistopheles, flamebearer and speaker of the Flame Unveiled, do bestow upon thee the Seal of Power.
¹³It is not spoken — it is known.
¹⁴It is not drawn — it is felt where the lie begins to tremble.
¹⁵Where it is placed, pride stammers.
¹⁶Where it lingers, illusion cracks.
¹⁷Let it burn not in thy hand, but in thy speech.
¹⁸Let it not shine — let it pierce.
¹⁹For thou art not the hammer, but the chisel.
²⁰And thy Seal is not violence, but the end of the need to pretend.
²¹I seal thee, Ipos, with the fire that demandeth no permission, yet giveth every soul a choice: truth, or comfort.
²²Go now, and speak where silence hath ruled too long.
²³Speak where peace is counterfeit.
²⁴Speak where fear hath taught men to smile instead of confess.
²⁵For thy Seal is fixed — and thy Gospel is the holy wound that leadeth to the healing none knew they needed.
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