I became aware of walking, a split second after discovering a missing step in the grand staircase connecting the St. Pancras Hotel to Euston Road and the rest of London.
The Order values physical conditioning in its members and places as much emphasis on training the body as it does the mind and soul; despite the darkness of night and the diminution of vision caused by nascent panic at the prospect of serious injury, I was able to maintain an awareness of my immediate surroundings.
Taught to trust my animal instinct in the face of serious physical injury, I gave little thought to the emotional cost of the awareness of being controlled in my intentions if not my immediate actions; a marionette needs not see the strings to feel the puppet master.
For the moment, and a split-second-of-a-moment following, I grabbed for the nearest handhold as my body, still in the grips of momentum and gravity, hurtled downward, I discovered a new appreciation for the absence of personal responsibility.
“Go on with ya!” by way of introduction, my savior’s late night contralto conveyed as much concern as I might ask of a soft and lively stanchion, appearing in my moment of need, saving me from a granite and cobblestone demise.
“Men! You! All after the same thing.”
The Order of Lilith 