Fiction
Archive... Dark Jedi Knight Aghasett |
Revenge:
A Practical Guide Emotions
of dark will are complex, yet exhilarating, states of mind. One need
only feel a passing resentment or envy towards another,
to appreciate the many overlapping thoughts and images of destruction
and conquest that seem to repeat and flourish in one’s mind, even
long after the event that spawned them. Take,
for instance, a poorly regarded neighbour, who has one day seen it fit
to increase his holdings of land, by the annexing of a weaker neighbour's
acreage further down the road. For
you, this is of little consequence, for the land he has taken was not
your own, and is at such a distance away, it would take a half day’s
journey just to reach it. Therefore, it is out of site, and generally,
out of mind. But
when the day arrives when you are required to fetch a roast, or gather
a supply of timber, or any such thing that would inevitably lead you
through your neighbour's recently expanded domain, you might be more
inclined to ponder this land, to imagine its development as you
would see fit, for the betterment of yourself, your family, and your
power of influence. This
land, then, becomes an Object of Desire, but one possessed by another.
Thus, it is he who benefits, while you languish in his shadow. Had
you taken the initiative and seized the land yourself, expanding your
borders and doubling your crop output, the riches and reward you
imagine he will receive would instead be handed to you. And
considering your unshakable belief that he is far less equipped to
handle the responsibility and vision required of such a large expanse,
you wonder why Fortune has so blessed him with this stroke of
inspiration, and not you. Why
didn’t you think to conquer the weakest of your neighbours, as he
did, for surely you are more adept at managing the rewards of
conquest? Could it be that, despite your talents and gifts, the
generous touch of Fate has simply passed you by, and instead, decided
to grant its’ favours upon an inferior? Such
machinations of the mind could be considered a state of regret, which
has then folded into envy. As
you try to reconcile this irony and find no satisfying answer, the
mind’s only outlet is to retreat down into the heart and stew, where
events such as these have no reason or logic, but are simply
experienced for the cosmic injustices they are. * *
* As
a new day dawns, and you are met in the town’s square by several of
your fellow lords, the discussion quickly turns to your newly endowed neighbour,
who has, in addition to receiving the lauds of praise and respect that
come with ownership, just recently been spotted in the company of your
wife and daughter, both separately and together. And
now your mind begins to reel, forced to negotiate the rapids of shock
and confusion that have entwined your senses. Could this be? Has the value gained by your tawdry and second-rate neighbour been enough to woo the attentions of those you hold dear? Is your daughter—precious kin who’d proclaimed you the one and true love through her distance in eternity—suddenly found patronage in the favour of this wretched beast? And your wife, keeper of all that is sacred to you, furbisher of your life’s sustenance--both bread and carnal fruition—has she too been tempted into the giving of her fleshy delights, to this charlatan, this monster? And
the envy which had occupied you from the time you first met the day,
now expands and contorts into something more vehement and sinister and
grave. It is a feeling that tramples past the marker of vindictiveness,
and approaches the ‘something’ that compels the scorned to
act. * *
* So
let us now reflect: you have experienced a sense of regret at
the hands of misfortune, in having not first conceived the idea of
material expansion. And as it was the neighbour of whom you consider
your inferior, who has managed to sidestep this inequity by receiving
the inspiration of Fates, and thus increasing his worldly share and
influence, you then began to undergo feelings of envy and resentment. But
something else had then occurred, which enflamed these meagre passions
into the fury of a firestorm. He
has seduced your wife to his chambers and violated her, while
similarly robbing you of your most protected self--in the form of your
treasured offspring--your adolescent daughter. Oh,
what agony you must face! What torment! The feelings of rage
and frustration that now grip you are more than just that; they
are instructions of some kind; commandments, sent from the shadowy God
of Hate. From
within this hollowing pain, a sensation arises to protect you from
further embarrassment and salvage the ruins of your esteem. Hate’s
marching orders are emblazoned across your baneful mind, and
now you know what you must do, as you burn in the passions of revenge. * * * Possessed
of a bitter desire to inflict injury for payment of the ones received,
you plot your means of retribution. How
to enact a measure that would not only reclaim what you have lost, but
then take still more, so that the deep and sticky wound of your neighbour's
public slight will have been fully compensated for. It is not enough
to “get even,” for, in addition to the shredding of your ego, the humiliation
you have received tarnishes your public reputation; and this should be
unacceptable to anyone of dignity and proper standing. So the question
remains…what to do about it? Using
hatred as your guide, you must first ascertain the thing of
most value to your despicable neighbor—who from this point on we
shall refer to as “the wretch.” And
here it is important to note, that this “soft spot on the dragon’s
belly,” where you look to make your strike, should be something the
wretch feels emotionally connected to—this is key. Otherwise,
the destroying of said thing, whether object or familiar, would not
produce the lingering pain that revenge requires. Why
not just stab the wretch ten times in the belly, bleeding him out as
he expires at your feet? Well, we’ll get to that, but first, it is
of paramount importance that he suffer, and suffer deeply, both
privately and publicly. So
back to the wretch himself. After
exhaustive and meticulous research (time and waiting are of little
concern to the one bent on revenge), you have managed to secure
certain documents pertaining to a child of feeble wit and physique,
now cloistered with the priestesses of a distant abbey, who for many
years has been retained by the holies as a menial servant. This
child, abandoned and forgotten long ago, is in fact the offspring of
the wretch and his very own sister. And though history is replete with
such children of ill conception, it is none the less regarded by
society at large as a transgression of natural law to have fostered
such blood, and public knowledge of the act would devastate the
reputation of any offender. So
now, as the powers of revenge begin to emerge, your blood boils with
wicked anticipation, for you know you have a tool to castrate the
wretch in a way that will deprive him of his land, his life’s worth
of fortune, and his ability to earn another. But
what of his carnal affronts? He may be financially destitute by the
distributing of these suppressed documents, but the stench of his lust
upon you own wife and daughter still lingers. So this is where revenge
reverts from a plotting of the mind to a force of the heart—as it is
necessary to become so; otherwise, the excising of your demons will be
incomplete. A
physical challenge is required, between yourself and the wretch, in as
public a venue as legality would permit, so his final and ultimate
humiliation will be complete. Revenge
has no rules, no code of conduct or civil constraints; so when a
battle of fists is agreed upon by both the wretch and yourself, make
sure to conceal a dagger, so that the sweetness of his demise will not
only be assured, but the expression of surprise and anguish you will
witness engulfing his countenance, as you lunge the blade through him,
will fulfil revenge’s ultimate reward: inflicting humiliation. As
he then lays crumpled at your feet, with tears rolling down his cheeks
and pleas of mercy uttering from his lips, make sure to lean close to
him, and whisper a stinging epitaph, of whatever best suits the
occasion. Then drive him through once more, and feel the ebbing away
of his life. You
will then depart the scene, calmly and wilfully, as onlookers bow in
deference, and the emotions you feel will be of unparalleled strength
and fortitude, which can encompassed in one beautiful, well-conceived
notion: Revenge. * *
* The moral of this story is that envy and resentment are in themselves not enough; only revenge can motivate one to conquer thoroughly, so that the threat of one’s neighbour is vanquished to the point of nonexistence, and one’s status of superiority is felt not only by the victor, but the entire community. |