Sgrios Mass: Friendship Decays

Why is it we worship at the cursed altar of Sgrios? What draws us to Him? Do we crawl on our bellies to his chamber in pursuit of immunity to His touch? Fellows, our love of the dark lord does not grant us special favor to the gift of decay, and in this grim hall, we must remind ourselves to be doubly vigilant of the creeping rot which will eventually consume us.

 

Wood splinters, swords rust, even mighty castles turn to rubble. Flowers wilt, bodies decompose. Additionally -- love fades, hate ebbs and memories become the fertile ground of the future. There is a manner of decay for every order of the natural world, and, as we have discussed in times past, we must also be aware of the small deaths of the self and the decay of the realms of the unconscious. It is plain to see when an infection festers on a limb, and treatment is easier to administer to a wound than it is to erase the stains of internal darkness.

 

We must be stalwart defenders of our mental faculties, but we do not exist in social vacuums devoid of external influence. With every new encounter we are forming bonds. Some of these are little more than strands of spider silk; delicate and nearly imperceptible. Other connections are wrought in heavier shackles - to those we hold dearest in our hearts we wrap around their wrists the iron chains of endearment. Friends, lovers, those we aspire to be -- we do not wish to let these people from our side.

 

I remember a day sitting by the seaside with a spark by my side and counting my blessings and the people in my life I hold dear. In that moment, with the tide kissing my toes and the clouds casting their shadows intermittently over my glowing shoulders I felt I could fold the corner on that page in the book of my life and happily close it. That day hasn’t been long passed now but already the webs of my life have been torn and it has been a grim reminder that despite our best laid plans, and no matter how much we fortify our relationships, even the strongest steel will return to dust some day.

 

Relationships; our family, our friends, our professional acquaintances -- even our lovers and family are never guaranteed to weather an eternity. If the mountain is gradually turned to a valley by the gentle stream, how can we expect something as fickle as friendship to stand against the tidal waves of emotion we carelessly cast at them? As with any force under the great Sgrios’ domain, relationships, too, are subject to rot. We grieve for our lost friends the same way we grieve for the dead, and the pain is often doubly felt, as with the dead we are not likely to see them gathering in social circles and carrying themselves with light-hearted glee in the ways you once had when the chains of favor were tight around your wrists.

 

There is an old folk tale bandied about that Deoch always ignites two sparks with the same torch; that for every one of us there is another to match, a spark burning from the same source. While a romantic notion we must bear in mind that there is never a given instance when our relationships are assured, and no magical well of fire that determines we will forever find happiness in another’s company. Every friendship, every love, even every rivalry is something that must be polished and honed as the studious warrior cares for his blade. Without a tender hand even the sharpest blades fall to neglect and are, then, cast aside for brighter steel. So, friends, tend to your relationships or be prepared to feed them to our Lord of Decay. Tell those nearest to you how you care now, for tomorrow you might find they’ve abandoned you like an eppe in the mud.