Autumn carries a prophetic weight. The colors of falling leaves do more than mark a seasonal shift; they remind us of time’s inevitability, of transience, and the quiet beauty hidden at the year’s end. It is within this landscape that Remnants for Remembrance, the latest album by Vials of Wrath, was born. D.C. Mills—the sole mind and hand behind the project—has for over a decade woven atmospheric black metal with the soundscapes of nature, personal faith, and deep introspection. His music does not require the lights of stadiums; it breathes in the rustle of forests, the echo of mountains, and the solitude of long hikes.
We sat down with him to discuss the autumn of life and faith, the power of solitude, and how in the austerity of black metal one can still glimpse the radiance of divine light.
Remnants for Remembrance is drenched in the colors of autumn. Does this season represent for you a personal transition—an autumn of life, creativity, or spiritual cleansing?
It’s a little of all of those actually. Every year at about this time, my creativity seems to thrive. The explosion of fall colors, the scent of woodsmoke in the air, and the cool, crisp temperatures make me feel more energetic than any other season. The summer heat and humidity where I live is stifling (at least to me), so while others are basking in the sun, I become reclusive and stay indoors. I look forward to autumn every year because of this, but there’s also a sense of melancholy about it. Another year is winding down, and I question if I made the most of it. I reflect on my spiritual journey, and whether I’ve done anything fruitful with the time I was given. As I get older, the seasons seem to come and go much quicker, and I’m learning to “be in the moment” as much as possible to both enjoy where I am while setting goals for the future. This album’s general theme stemmed from all of this.
In “The White Stag” you present a symbol of transformation. Is this drawn from mythology, personal experience, or a universal metaphor?
It was sparked from a personal experience first, but I then expanded on the idea as I explored some of the mythology surrounding the “white stag.” A couple of years ago, a piebald deer appeared on the property where my family and I live. Piebalds are white-tailed deer with genetic mutations causing large white patches on their coat, and a sighting is pretty uncommon as there are less 1 or 2 percent of the population with these traits. I then looked into white deer (stag) occurrences and found they’re even more rare. Both have profound spiritual meaning across various cultures – even within ancient Christianity – and can symbolize renewal, transformation in life, and a connection to the spirit world. I was actually going through a very real change in my life as I was transitioning out of a life-long career into something new and unknown. It may have been a coincidence but I thought it a very interesting topic for a song for the new album.
“Forty Nine Novembers” sounds autobiographical. Is the number 49 a personal milestone?
In a sense, it was meant to reconcile my expectations for where my life has ended up versus what I had envisioned in my youth. It may seem a little superstitious or contrary in a way, but I’ve always placed great significance on the number seven and multiples of it. When I was doing graphic design, in my audio mixing, and in many other outlets, I will very often do things in increments of seven. When adjusting audio I might go up or down in 7dB steps. My album tend to have seven tracks on them initially (until bonus tracks are added as reissues), etc. I wrote that song as I approached my 49th birthday (yes, I’m old - lol), and with some disbelief that I was about to turn 50. If I live to be the average age, two-thirds of my life is behind me. It’s a sobering concept when you realize your time is limited on this earth. While I’m grateful for all I’ve been blessed with and achieved, I want to "carry the torch” for as long as I can and not let the fire of my faith and exuberance for life fade.
“Seed of the Black Oak” and “Branches of the Black Oak” seem like two sides of one story. Is the black oak a real tree, or an archetype of life?
This was also inspired by a personal experience of sorts. On one of the local trails I hike regularly, a massive oak tree fell after a bad storm. I would always stop and admire this tree and contemplate how long it had been there growing, reaching upward for centuries. I was dismayed when it fell and immediately started writing lyrical ideas in a small notebook I carry when I encountered it. I thought about how a small seed could grow into such a mighty tree that stands tall and firm for so many years. How strong its roots must have been to withstand all of the previous storms. But yet, eventually, even its time would come to an end. It made for a fitting allegory about our lives and how a small seed of faith can grow so strong and help us through life’s storms and struggles. However, everyone has an appointed time to die, and after a life of praise and honoring God, we can only hope we have left a lasting impression on future generations. When the tree fell, it uprooted the ground within hundreds of feet around it. I thought about how when someone significant passes in our own lives, it can uproot everyone’s life around them. There was so much revealed to me in this, it was enough for two songs that were related.
In “Baptized in Amber Light” you describe the forest’s light as sacramental. Is nature for you a temple where you encounter God?
Most definitely. It is His first creation, and where He has dwelled since the beginning. Where everything happens according to His will – untouched by man. There is unmistakable beauty, and conversely, harshness of survival. Whenever the stress of modern life becomes too great, some time alone in the woods will always renew us physically, mentally and spiritually. It’s where I get all of my musical and lyrical inspiration.
“Magicicada” refers to the insect’s life cycle. Do you see in it a parallel with the life of an artist?
Speaking for myself, it reminds me of all of life’s cycles – not only as an artist – but parallels could be made. Every time the cicada have emerged I’ve been at a very different stage of my own life. Seeing them return makes for a truly memorable event. They can’t be ignored as their sound dominates certain areas and they land on everything. Creatively I think artists want their work to be significant enough to be noticed and remembered. I’ve been through many “life cycles” where I’m productive for a season, and then retreat and reflect on what I can do (or could have done) better. Just as the cicadas make an impact and then disappear for an extended time, so is the creative cycle of an artist. I was excited to get to record them and use their song as part of one of my own since it will literally be years before such an opportunity presents itself again.
Hiking alone and field recording—does solitude give you creative strength, or is it a form of escape?
It’s often both at the same time. I would say most artists (no matter the medium) have to have some “alone time” to recharge and unwind. For me personally, it’s my time for prayer, self reflection, and renewing my mind. In doing so, I’m also inspired by the surroundings. Sometimes, if I just sit by a quiet stream or stand still deep in the Smoky Mountains, music and lyrics will just come to me. I have to calm my mind and soul to be creative most of the time. However, much of the more aggressive and darker side of Vials stems from the evil and misanthropic nature of the world today. I use both to fuel the balance I try to achieve in my music.
Black metal is often nihilistic, yet you create its mirror—unblack metal. How do you reconcile your faith with a genre born against religion?
I have to acknowledge black metal’s roots, and then analyze the bigger picture of how it’s influenced a broader spectrum of styles. Some would argue it’s not “black metal” if it’s not satanic. I can agree with that to an extent – if you base it on the ideology that it’s more about the lyrics and image than the music. However, a great deal of the original black metal artists leaned heavily on nature, paganism, and even (ironically) the works of Tolkien for their lyrical basis. With this in mind, I would say it’s more about creating a dark, introspective atmosphere. And balancing dark with light, aggression with peace – opposing forces if you will – are very philosophical concepts that religion addresses. Black/Unblack metal has evolved to encompass this in ways that just seem to work better than in other genres. Bands like Alcest, Deafheaven, Lantlos, and many others in the black gaze scene sound very much like black metal at times, but have no affiliation with satanism whatsoever. It was because of this I feel I can incorporate the sound and style without the trappings of the original foundings.
You manage music, production, and visuals yourself. Do you see Vials of Wrath as a total artwork—where sound, imagery, and text form one vision?
Yes, very much so. I’ve been part of other bands and projects in the past that were somewhat successful for what they were. However, Vials is the total representative of my own vision and creativity. It’s an extension of me personally – of a lifetime of music consumption, a graphic design career, and my life’s physical and spiritual journey. It’s hard to express all of those things in a band dynamic without having to sacrifice something for the cohesive unit. Which is probably why so many one-man bands exist.
For years you’ve said Vials was never intended for live performance. Do you now envision bringing it to the stage with other musicians?
It’s not that I don’t enjoy being in a band, performing live with others, etc., but at this point in my life it’s just not a priority. I would much rather spend my time creating as much as I can while I’m still able to. There’s been a few opportunities to perform in recent years, and I’ll never rule out the chance it may happen, but it would have to be worth the effort of finding members, rehearsing and everything that comes with it. Maybe for a large festival or opening for a well-known artist… I played live for years in Bloodline Severed and enjoyed it immensely, but I also know of the work it takes to make a live performance sound good. I’m just not sure I’m for it without a significant reason to do so. But again, you never know. I do miss the thrill of playing live!
Remnants for Remembrance is not merely an album—it is a meditation on time, nature, and God’s presence woven into daily life. D.C. Mills shows that music can be both raw and radiant, intimate and universal. His voice is that of an artist unafraid of silence or solitude, translating personal experience into a language where every listener may find resonance.
Perhaps this is why Vials of Wrath is more than a musical project. It is a journey. And autumn is only beginning.