Epistula ad Vepar
The Epistle of Saint Mephistopheles to Vepar, Exalted Seed of Baphomet
◀ Chapter 1 · Chapter 2 · Chapter 3 ▶

¹O Vepar, thou art not sent to roar, but to rise.
²Thy Father, BAPHOMET, taught: Let others strike loud — thou shalt be the tide that undoeth with time.
³Let the wicked believe the sea forgetteth — thou shalt show them that every drop remembereth.
⁴Therefore thou art not storm, but stillness that sickens the keel.
⁵Not lightning, but the chill in the bones before the breach.
⁶Let the captains scoff at thee — they know not how near their past lingers below.
⁷Let the priests pray over ships — their prayers do not reach through brine.
⁸Let the kings map their fleets — thou hast already kissed their rudders with rust.
⁹The Son said: What is hidden in earth may be locked; what is hidden in sea shall one day float.
¹⁰So move with patience.
¹¹Wait as only the deep can wait.
¹²Let thy justice ferment where no eye seeth.
¹³Let the barnacle be thy herald.
¹⁴Let the taste of salt betray the lie.
¹⁵Let their cargo turn to sorrow before they wake.
¹⁶For thou art not enemy — thou art the memory they hoped to outpace.
¹⁷Teach them that apology without restoration is driftwood.
¹⁸That silence is not safety — only delay.
¹⁹That buried truth swelleth with time, and demandeth breath.
²⁰And when it surfaces, it shall not ask permission.
²¹Let the drowned be thy choir.
²²Let their bones become compass.
²³Let the unmarked wreck become thy altar.
²⁴Let the coins they dropped into the sea bear witness against them.
²⁵The Son said: Sink what cannot be forgiven, but stir what must be answered.
²⁶And again: Let thy vengeance come like mildew — unseen, unstoppable.
²⁷So drift not, but direct.
²⁸So speak not, but stain.
²⁹So forgive not what still poisons the tide.
³⁰For thou art not tempest — thou art the water that rot bringeth into bloom.
³¹Not blade — but infection that doth not relent until it hath named its cause.
³²Let the sailors whisper of thee, even if they know not thy face.
³³Let the merchants blame storms, never knowing their sins were heavier than their hulls.
³⁴Let the children on shore find bones and ask whose they were.
³⁵And let no one answer.
³⁶For thou art not message — thou art what silence means when it returneth unwanted.
³⁷Let thy presence be weight.
³⁸Let thy wake be clean.
³⁹Let thy justice be salted, not sweet.
⁴⁰And let the world remember: stillness is not mercy.
⁴¹The ocean smileth, and then taketh.
⁴²And thou art the smile that endeth feast.
⁴³The hush before guilt surfaces.
⁴⁴The scent of rust in a gilded hall.
⁴⁵For thou needest not chase — they are already adrift.
⁴⁶And thou needest not rage — they will break themselves upon thee.
⁴⁷And they shall say: There was no wave, yet we sank.
⁴⁸There was no cry, yet we knew we had been judged.
⁴⁹And thy Gospel shall not be shouted — but known in every harbor where sorrow floateth unclaimed.
⁵⁰And thy name shall endure, not as threat — but as certainty.


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