Aldrich
In the seclusion of his privat chambers, Aldrich was preparing for what should become his greatest achievemnt yet. While methodically dressing up in the multitude of heavy robes fine garments and unappraisable accessories he could not but reflect on his wonderous rise to power. Soon his lifelong yearning for clarity and fulfillment would be satiated. Piercing the black curtains that envelopped Aldrich's sanctum one could discern the faint, ritualistic chanting of the ceremony preamble. In method he had long surpassed his ecclesial origins, but certainly not in spirit. Dedicating his life to the search of god brought him unparalleled power. The awe inspiring miracles he learned to perform baffled even the oldest of sages and broke the most adamant of sceptics into rambling prayers for absolution. But although he had learned the written and spoken, the allknown and the most forbidden theologicals teachings, none seemed to show him god; the real, non-metaphorical being or entity whose powers he borrowed so easily. In his desperation eventually ha turned to the feared and shunned art of thaumaturgy. If the highest of piety did not result in devine gratitude, maybe stringent logic would permit him to claw his way to his heart's desire. In his pursuit he was unrelenting, however never thoughtless. The nature of thaumaturgy was no secret to Aldrich and he know all too well what awaited him on his sinister and increasingly lonesome path. Applying the thaumaturgical method to a topic of interest never fails to reveal it's truest essence , but in the process the very principle of the object of study are twisted and contorted into a perverted version of itself. As such one can immagine the unspeakable horrors that would result from applying this accursed method of study to fait, by definition the purest and most sacred of practices. In his pursuit Aldrich relenquished all for what he stood for. His golden cathedrals and temples transformed into crucibles of suffering and misery. The caring father to the faithful turned into their most feared tormentor, the priests and nuns to butchers and torturers. On multiple occasions he shuddered at the atrocities he was forced to commit in the name of his pursuit, but whith every such deed he did or ordered, his resolve was strengthened, for he had less and less to return to. It was all for this night. As the chanting grew louder and even somewhat desperate, Aldrich finally left for the altar hall. The end to his eon long struggle seemed finally within grasp. Slowly treading amidst what was left of his following, his mind revisited the thaumaturgic calculations again and again. No, there was no mistake, undaubtedly he had found a formular, a ritual to show him god. The brutal arithmatics would finally bring him the answers he yearned for all of his life. To see Him, to speak to him directly to understand what He was and give meaning to the whole twisted and mystical universe. Aldrich stopped at the surprisingly unremarkable round mirror, installed onto the main altar. His eyes firmly locked on the smooth surface, he clearly saw the chanting congregation behind his back, as they neared the last verses of the profane incantation. With a sudden abbruptnes the last word of the ritualistic formular was spoken, and with a mechanical swiftness the reflective surface before his eyes turned pich black. For a brief moment it seemed, as if the world stood still. Then, slowly the contours of a figure began to appear on the black velvet of the mirror. Gazing from the abyss was just Aldrich's reflection. Broken and horrified.