..the longer the journey seems to be...

Assalamualaikum and peace be upon you…

“Knowing others is wisdom, knowing yourself is Enlightenment.”

Lao Tzu

“The One True Master tasketh not a soul beyond its scope. For it (is only) that which it hath earned, and against it (only) that which it hath deserved. Our Lord! Condemn us not if we forget, or miss the mark! Our Lord! Lay not on us such a burden as thou didst lay on those before us! Our Lord! Impose not on us that which we have not the strength to bear! Pardon us, absolve us and have mercy on us, Thou, our Protector, and give us victory over the disbelieving folk.”
02:286 – Book of Bovis: Scripture of Truths

“Those who avoid enormities of sin and abominations, save the unwilled offences - (for them) lo! thy Lord is of vast mercy. He is Best Aware of you (from the time) when He created you from the earth, and when ye were hidden in the bellies of your mothers. Therefore ascribe not purity unto yourselves. He is Best Aware of him who wardeth off (evil).”
53:32 – Book of Astrum: Scripture of Truths

The Demon sat with and arm resting on a folded leg. His eyes reach the horizon, and oddly, beyond. The view from this lowest peak of Perspicientia brings lots of serenity and calmness to the troubled heart – making every thorn and promontory that lacerates the rotting flesh within worth while. Making every drop of colorless blood that seep unseeingly seemed to have value – a value that can only be bartered with the coins of haven.

The journey is still long for the Glorified Child of Agnus, but, for this leg of the path from the kingdom of Aetas to the kingdom of Naturae, the Demon need to rest. He needs to sip the bitter wine of Meastitia, eat the cankering meat of Peccarae.

The journey is still long for the Demon, but the travel has so far sipped much of his Magnanimitas…


‘Twas the Day of the Sun, 18th dawn of Acca Larentia year of the Pullus Ligneus.

The Demon lay inanimately on the floor of his Cave of Adumbration save for the the motion of his pain laden chest – struggling for a breath of haven. Colorless blood gushing from the mortiferous laceration caused by Cupid’s arrow. What was once intended as a sweet scratch of amity has turned to enmity.

Shades of light slowly turns to shadows…

The Demon can only wonder if he could ever again see the shimmering cape of Apollo nurturing the roses of Aetas or the beauty of Diana soothing the crying children of Gaia in the absence of Apollo.

Then darkness takes the throne of light from the Demon’s eyes…


Twas the time where the shadow has long past the pole,
Day of the Mundane, 19th dawn of Acca Larentia year of the Pullus Ligneus

The Demon opened his hollowed eyes. The light that once sooths now seemed to sear. With what might he has left, he tries to pull his weak carcass up. Yes, he is left as a living carcass by the wounds caused by the enchanted war due to cupid’s error in judgement. The deathtifying mantras and chants of the Princess have chase the unseen binders of the Demon’s diminishing soul.

With a weak grip on his broken sword of faith, he walks staggeringly. He knows not where to head nor where to stop. Colorless blood still streaming down from his wounds. He calls for the Regents and the Mamak Bendahara and the Jester and the the King but none heeded his calls. They were not to blame. The Charm of Anti Tristia embeded in his temple prevents them form hearing him.

He could only continue to walk staggeringly to the unknown pathways made by the One True Master…


Day of the Terrible, 20th dawn of Acca Larentia year of the Pullus Ligneus

The Glorified Child of Agnus continues to stagger. He is growing weaker and weaker. The vultures of apostasy hover eagerly above his head. Fear seeps into the Demon’s heart.

Fear that has long been forgotten…


Day of the Weakening, 21st dawn of Acca Larentia year of the Pullus Ligneus

“Elphay Emay! Elphay Emay! Elphay…emay…” the Demon cries weakly “My liege! Vouchsafe unto me steadfastness and make me die as men who have surrendered unto Thee…”


Twas the time when Apollo and Diana dance,
Days of the Diminution and Ecclesiastical,
22nd - 23rd dawn of Acca Larentia year of the Pullus Ligneus

In his weakened state he kneeled. With one trembling hand gripping hard on the holder of his broken Sword of Broken Faith and the other trying to stop the blood streaming slowly down to his feet, head bowed in total surrender, the Demon prayed…

“O One True Master!
Thou knowest that which I keep secret
that which I disclose,
Grant me Thy pardon,
Thou knowest that which is in my breast;
forgive me my sins.”

“O One True Master!
I seek from Thee a faith that will saturate my heart,
True conviction that will make me realize,
that naught can befall me except what Thou hast decreed for me,
contentment in whatever Thou hast given me.
Thou art my patron in this world and the Hereafter.
Allow me to die among the righteous.”

“O One True Master!
Let not any of my worries undispelled,
Let all my tasks be made easy,
my mind relieved,
my heart illuminated.”

“Thee do I serve, and Thine aid I seek,
Shine me the straight path,
The way of those on whom Thou hast bestowed Thy Grace,
those whose (portion) is not wrath,
and who go not astray”


Day of the Blithed, 24th dawn of Acca Larentia year of the Pullus Ligneus.

‘Tis the day where the Demon reached the foot of Perspicientia, unintended and unplanned but with much gratefulness. With much hardship he climbs the jagged walls of the Perspicientia. His strength allows him to the lowest summit.

Serenity and calmness once more came into his sordid existence…

The journey is still long for the Glorified Child of Agnus, but, for this leg of the path from the kingdom of Aetas to the kingdom of Naturae, the Demon need to rest. He needs to sip the bitter wine of Meastitia, eat the cankering meat of Peccarae.

‘Twas time when serenity and calmness once more visits the troubled brimstone citadel of the Demon’s heart to this day, the Day of Diminution, 29th dawn of Acca Larentia year of the Pullus Ligneus.

‘Tis the tale of the Demon.

...the more i will make you laugh...

Assalamualaikum and peace be upon you…

“Love hurts…”
Queen

Day of the Sun,
18th dawn of Acca Larentia year of the Pullus Ligneus…

Cupid’s arrow struck deeper than it has been foretell, too deep. What was meant as benign mark has turned into mortiferous laceration. The Demon can only lay motionlessly down in defeat – defeated by the blows of the Draco named Life…

There are no more roses as shine has turned into scorch…

There is melody is no more as rain has turned into hail…

There is no more…

There is no more…

19th dawn of Acca Larentia year of the Pullus Ligneus…
The day the Demon’s heart is broken asunder…

...the lower my head will bow...

Assalamualaikum and peace be upon you…

Every tomorrow has two handles. We can take hold of it with the handle of anxiety or the handle of faith.
Henry Ward Beecher

Reason is our soul's left hand, Faith her right.
John Donne

He who has faith has... an inward reservoir of courage, hope, confidence, calmness, and assuring trust that all will come out well - even though to the world it may appear to come out most badly.
B. C. Forbes

The Demon falls to his knees…

The Sword of Destiny has been swung. The demon can only watch as the glittering blade draws near, knowing not what will be of him. “One True Master…” he prayed, “elphay emay….”.

With arms wide opened, face directed to foot of the Throne of Haven, the glorified child of Agnus abdicate his fate to the Wielder of the Sword of Destiny. Salty drops of sadness seeping from the side of the Demon have blackened eyes. In his subdued state, he felt an odd sense of warmth – the warmth of love…

He opened his blackened eyes and saw the most beautiful of sights. There, by the foot of Haven’s Throne, adored by the nubes, hovers Diana – the mass that lights the absence of Apollo. The radiance of her beauty stops the incoming blade of the Sword of Destiny…

Twas the time when the pious bowed,
Day of Ecclesiastical,
16th dawn of Acca Larentia year of the Pullus Ligneus…

As if haven and hell have both heard his prayers, the Princess has disclaimed the Consigno Adoris sacrifice. Serenity and calmness once more visit the troubled brimstone citadel of the Demon’s heart. Love that has turned into hatred has once more become love.

In the twilight that follows the time when the Demon slained the beasts that menaced the child of Artemis and Hermes with the Blade of Candor, stood the Demon blanketed by the coldness of the night. He opened his blackened eyes and saw the most beautiful sight. There, by the foot of Haven’s Throne, adored by the nubes, hovers Diana – the mass that lights the absence of Apollo…

The sight of Diana made him kneeled to the haven.

Head bowed to womb of Gaia, he whispered to the One True Master, “My liege! Vouchsafe unto me steadfastness and make me die as men who have surrendered unto Thee…”

Twas the rites taken from the Apex - one of the chapter in the Scripture of Truth. It is the rite of the humbled heart. Befitting the circumstances that have occurred have once again humbled the Demon. A revelation that truly thought him of the might of the Wielder of the Sword of Destiny.

16th dawn of Acca Larentia year of the Pullus Ligneus…

This is the tale of the Demon – child of Agnus.

..the more the sacrifices are...

Assalamualaikum and peace be upon you…

Confusion now hath made his masterpiece.
William Shakespeare

In love, one should simplify, choose persons worthy of their promises and leave them if they don't keep them.
Isabelle Adjani

Reason is powerless in the expression of Love. Love alone is capable of revealing the truth of Love and being a Lover. The way of our prophets is the way of Truth. If you want to live, die in Love; die in Love if you want to remain alive
Rumi Jallaluddin

To ease another's heartache is to forget one's own.
Abraham Lincoln

Thunder roars from the land of the east. Ground trembled in the land of the north. The air that bridges the lands is savagely stirred. Stirred by the songs of sadness, angers, hatred, qualms and…cursed enchantments. Cupid’s arrow struck deeper than it has been foretell, too deep. What was meant as benign mark has turned into mortiferous laceration.

Trough the Ancorale Vox Vocis, the Princess has demanded of the Demon a sacrifice as a Consigno Adoris. Once again, the brimstone walls of the Demon heart trembles. This time not of love, but of fear, hurt, grieves and confusions. Sanctity and serenity painfully seeping away from his chest…

Twas the time when Haven’s Throne is but an inch from Gaia’s womb. Day of Weakening, 14th dawn of Acca Larentia year of the Pullus Ligneus.

The Demon’s slumber is disturbed by the tunes of the Ancorale Vox Vocis proclaiming the calls of his beloved Princess. “This must be a dream” thought the glorified child of Agnus “my beloved would never sire me at this hour…” while drowsily silencing the tunes. An innocent act with grave consequences…

The Demon is in great abashment and agony.

His innocent act has made the day to be as if the world is run the lords of the underworld. The earth that separates him and the Princess is in chaos. Thunder roars from the land of the east. Ground trembled in the land of the north. The air that bridges the lands is savagely stirred. Stirred by the songs of sadness, angers, hatred, qualms and…cursed enchantments – all sang by the Princess. In her eyes, she only see Maligner the Demon.

Her Amotoris Regina is no more, only Maligner the Demon…

Trough the Ancorale Vox Vocis, the Princess has demanded of the Demon a sacrifice as a Consigno Adoris. One that she believes would rid her of the Maligner. His sanctity and soul id to be sacrificed – sealed in a contract only can be broken by the hands of the One True Master. Once again, the brimstone walls of the Demon heart trembles. This time not of love, but of fear, hurt, grieves and confursion. Sanctity and serenity painfully seeping away from his chest…

The Demon falls to his knees…

The Sword of Destiny has been swung. The demon can only watch as the glittering blade draws near, knowing not what will be of him. “One True Master…” he prayed, “elphay emay….”.

Twas the day of Weakening, 14th dawn of Acca Larentia year of the Pullus Ligneus.

This is the tale of the Demon.

...the further I have to go in my pilgrimage...

Assalamualaikum and peace be upon you…

We have twisted the longing into an insatiable craving to validate that which we are not. The longing is simply the unceasing directive to be that which we are.
Jalaluddin Rumi

Hearghh! Gasp! …hhh…elp!

The rotting hands of the Demon moved frantically to part the dark damp soil that has inearth him. His black soulless eyes are blinded by the darkness caused by the ever falling dirt. He is gasping for air as his chest is laden with the stench of the damp soil. Life seems to sip away from his tired body.

With all of what little might he has, he trusts his weak hand upwards. A loud thud fills the night air. The glorified child of agnus can feel the coldness of the night’s air. He frees another weak hand, gripping tight to whatever hold his rotting hands could find and pulled himself up.
With heavy tired breaths, his soulless eyes stared at the glimmering lights at the foot of the Mount Lucre where he was entombed for the last three dawns…

Twas the dawn of the day of the Terrible, 13th dawn of Acca Larentia year of the Pullus Ligneus.

The Demon has traveled trough these paths before. Twas the path that leads to Mount Lucre, the place where sinners become saints and saints become sinners. All that that roamed this third Child of Apollo seek this mount, longed for its magic, be at war for its control. Progenitors deny progenies just to have a sip of its sweet sinful springs, masters were enslave by its allurements, slaves become shells in pursuing its shadows.

This are the wonders of Mount Lucre.

In his Book and trough his Beloved, the Unfeigned, the One True Master has always instigate the disciples of the Dark Enlightenment to seek this mountain for reasons that only HE knows. All that followed, all that believe and all that claimed to believe in HIM and his words has never failed to adhere to this. Many have set distorted pilgrimage to Mount Lucre. Many have become sinner saints and saint sinners. Many have been blindly enlightened by the glimmers of this mighty mountain.

The Demon is one of them.

In his pilgrim to the Lucre, the Demon lost sight of the One True Masters’ guiding cane. In his haste to become one of the sinful saints, Avarus and Salax – the enchanting daughters of the Lucre, have managed to allure him to the living pits of Mount Lucre. In his bewildered state of consciousness, buried him in the torturous pits and left him to further rot.

For three painful dawn and lonely dusks he struggles to be free. No friend nor foes, no oracles nor necromancers knew of his faith. Hope and faith is seeping painfully slowly from his brimstone heart. Light has become but a memory for him…

Twas the dawn of the day of the Terrible, 13th dawn of Acca Larentia year of the Pullus Ligneus.

In his inanimate state, his failing ears hear a vivid voice. The voice is chanting a very familiar chant. He mustered his concentration, he listen so very tentatively.

“By the powers that be!” He cries.

“By the powers that be! It’s the One True Master five callings…at this time…?” tear of gratefulness streamed out from his eyes. With all of what little might he has, he trusts his weak hand upwards. A loud thud fills the night air. The glorified child of agnus can feel the coldness of the night’s air. He frees another weak hand, gripping tight to whatever hold his rotting hands could find and pulled himself up.

With heavy tired breaths, his soulless eyes stared at the glimmering lights at the foot of the Lucre where he was entombed for the last three dawns…

"Sire… ” On this dawn thy have thought this servant… from this dawn I am truly thee.”

Twas the tale of the Demon.

...the more things to be read by the ones filled with thouhgts...

Assalamualaikum and peace be upon you...

For those who asked...
And those who wondered...
And those who searched...
The meanings of my words...

Sometimes you have to go places with characters and emotions within yourself you don't want to do, but you have a duty to the story and as a storyteller to do it.
Hugh Jackman

I am but a teller of tales...
Telling the tales of a man who was onced alive...
Telling the tales of a man living death..

It is the story-teller's task to elicit sympathy and a measure of understanding for those who lie outside the boundaries of State approval.
Graham Greene

All say, "How hard it is that we have to die" - a strange complaint to come from the mouths of people who have had to live.
Mark Twain

Unbeing dead isn't being alive.
e. e. cummings

Life does not cease to be funny when people die any more than it ceases to be serious when people laugh.
George Bernard Shaw

I am but a witness...
Not to the things that will come to past...
Nor to the things that is the past...
Not to the scene of another man's stage...
But to the dramas that is intimate...

Faith is a continuum, and we each fall on that line where we may. By attempting to rigidly classify ethereal concepts like faith, we end up debating semantics to the point where we entirely miss the obvious-that is, that we are all trying to decipher life's big mysteries, and we're each following our own paths of enlightenment.
Dan Brown

While I thought that I was learning how to live, I have been learning how to die.
Leonardo da Vinci

I am but an actor...
an actor with no will...
an actor with no might...
an actor with no charecter...
an actor with no words...

When I stand before God at the end of my life, I would hope that I would not have a single bit of talent left, and could say, "I used everything you gave me".
Erma Bombeck

Life is a long lesson in humility.
James M. Barrie

For those who asked...
And those who wondered...
And those who searched...
The meanings of my words...
Know of this, and, only this...
They are meaningfull words...
With meaningless meanings.

It takes a long time to understand nothing.
Edward Dahlberg

True thoughts are those alone which do not understand themselves.
Theodor Adorno

We shall see but a little way if we require to understand what we see.
Henry David Thoreau

...and the cuts are getting deeper...

Assalamualaikum and peace be upon you...

Life is not an easy matter... You cannot live through it without falling into frustration and cynicism unless you have before you a great idea which raises you above personal misery, above weakness, above all kinds of perfidy and baseness.

Leon Trotsky

Hearrrrrgh!!!! Slash! Klang! Kling! Swoosh! Rippp...!

A slow stream of blackish red blood flowing from the Demon's chest down to the brown pavements of the Castle of Herbs - the place where the Jester served his wordly master. The Demon fell down on his knees. One hand tremblinly holding the Broken Sword of Destiny to brace himself from sprawling down. He can only look at the flowing blood.

"I can't let Jester sees my blood..." thought the the glorified child of agnus...

Twas the eigth dawn of the Day of Weakening.

The Demon went to pay homage to the Necromancer at the mouth of the Souther Path's route that day. There, the Necromancer conjured a curse - something that is both good but yet evil, on the glorified child of agnus using the mantra taken from the knowledge of Choosen Dark Sages. He managed to repelled the curse, but, it still managed to disoriented his mind and shook the brimstone wall of his black heart. The Necromancer's reasons for doing what he did is beyond the Demon apprehensions.

The Demon ran and he ran as fast as his weak legs allow him.

He went to the Foreign King Castle where the Jester served. Today is he will spar with the Jester. Sparring with Jester have always been enriching and healing for the Demon's chaotic mind. "Today I'll learn more" so thought the lonely lost soul of Hell's Hearth. He arrived at the tavern where he has always sits and be merry with the Jester. He proclaimed his arrival to Jester by whispering to the wind.

When the the enlightened sobrette came, he came with weapons yielded. He charges towards the glorified son of agnus with such passion, such fiery spirit that he has - like he always does whenevere they sparred. His mouth muttering the chants that he always chanted...

"I'll beat you again Jester! This is my craft and mastery...you know it! HAHAHAHAHA!!!" shout the agnus child cheerfull. Happy. Happy as he has always enjoyed the spar that the have together.

But today is the Day of Weakening.

When the Jester swung his Sword of Dark Enlightenment, while muttering the Chants of The Darker Path, the Demon felt a weakening and painfull sensation poking his brimestone heart. He feels debelitates and inanimate. What he has always managed to occlude can no longer occluded.

He felt pain in his chest.

He saw blood.

Jester's Sword of Dark Enlightenment and Chants of The Darker path, the Necromancer's curse have had a momentus effect on the glorified child of agnus. They could never have such an effect.

Never.

In his beatened kneeling pose. With a trembling hand gripping hard on the holder of his broken Sword of Broken Faith. With blood streaming slowly to his feet. He was once again humbled. The One True Master has once again taught him humility. The Demon's weak eyes stare thankfully at Jester's worried face. "Thank my friend..." his lips mutter gently to the confused Jester.

"Thank you my One True Master." His heart whispered to his Lord who resides in the Unseeb Tangent Kingdom. "To day, I truly bow to thee..."

Twas the Day of the Weakening.

Twas the tale of the Demon.

...the greater my sadness is...

Assalamualaikum and peace be upon you....

Sadness does not inhere in things; it does not reach us from the world and through mere contemplation of the world. It is a product of our own thought. We create it out of whole cloth.

Emile Durkheim

The Demons' heart is like a citadel made of blackened brimestones. In this citadel, lays streets that runs in chaos and very confusing muc like the paths within a maze. In each paths a Minatour stands guard. On the sides of these streets, stands shacks and towers and ruins and mansions. In them, dwells thieves and bandits and lyches and efreets and imps. In the heart of this citadel erect a tower made of black steel forged from the hearth of hell. In this tower a warlock rules.

Beneath the hellish grounds of the citadel, there are dungeons and torture chambers and fiery pits. Within them, paradise priest were confined, crusaders were crucified and angels were burned. From the break of dawn to the break of another dawn, the eery cries of these creatures of haven could be heard. They cry not for mercy nor freedom. They cry for vengence and oaths to regain supremacy over the creatures of the time where light is shy.

Sometimes (often too short of a time) the dungeon masters of the citadel were overpowered by the creatures of of haven. These creatures reign and supreme over their adversaries. When this occured, light shine in every inch of the citadel. The shacks and ruins and towers and mansions turned into gardens and arches and minarets and manors. The once dark dwellers of the citadel were no more - blinded and burned or killed of prisoned by the light that illuminate the citadel. The streets are straigthened and guided. The warlock is also gone. Defeated by a wondering wizard. The brimestones turn into bricks made from gold.

But times like this is often short.

No more calmness in the Demons' heart. Only chaos and confusion.

The Demon only can kneel to an unseen shrine. Head bowed. Palms clasping on the holder of a rusty broken sword. The Demon is too tired by the war that rages in his heart. The pain and agony is too tolling. The Demon can only cry and hope and hope and cry to his One True Master.

Cry in hope that He glance at him...

Hope that He hear his cries...

Cry in hope He embraces him...

Hope that He wipes his tears...

...the more days of torments i would have to face...

Assalamualaikum and peace be upon you....

A bore is a person who opens his mouth and puts his feats in it.

Henry Ford

Pain of love lasts a lifetime.

Jean Pierre Claris De Florian

It is the Day of the Mundanes.

The Demon has always love the Day of the Mundanes. Everything starts on the Day of the Mundanes. Its the day where all the work , all the hassle began to evolve in to tight crazy knots, the day where we all plan our war path. All the trade routes are unusually unsually congested on the Day of the Mundanes. The day where our self-slavery would start for seven dusks and seven dawns.

The Demon love the Day of the Mundanes very much. It is the day where he could drown all of his boredness in by adhering to the Pit Masters. Every past grains of the sands of time during the Day of the Mundanes stimulates his mind with challenging quests, testing his physical might with heavy tasks.

The Demon's Day of the Mundanes are no longer the same.

The Demon has no quests no more. It has been like this for almost four cycle of the moon. Some of the Day of the Mundanes in that four cycles are nice, but most of them dull.

This Day of the Mundanes is the worst so far.

For the whole day the Demon did nothing. Nothing is a bad thing. It dulls the mind. Weakens the body. Yes, the Demon felt so weak. He is bored and lonely. He misses much of the life he once had. The life where he is free to roam the earth, lavishing in the chaos, where the only rules that dictate him are his rules and those of the One True Master.

The Demon is scared.

He misses the Princess much. Too much. He knows that there will be no ends to this unholy union that he has with her. Both of them came from two different planes of reality. Two realities that could never co-exist harmonically. He knew deep in his darkened heart that this union would only bring war to the rulers and minions of the two planes.

The Demon is filled with anger in him. He wished that he is not born as an agnus - not the kind of thoughts that would bring favors from the One True Master. But like any other agnus, he can't help himself of having such thoughts. In his mind and in his darkened heart, he has distanced himself from the Princess. He wanted to tell her of this, but those angelic eyes of hers always mellows him down. Her songs always rattle the black brimstone wall of his heart.

He has to end it. A creature of the Tangent Haven would only be wretched in the company of a creature from Hell's Hearth. This truth kills him painfully slowly. He is in agony.

Days like this makes it worst.

...the greater smacking i got from God...

Assalamualaikum and peace be upon you…

Faith is spritualized imagination.

Hery Ward Beecher

Yep yessiree! I really got a good one from God yesterday – well not exactly a smacking but rather a reminder on life. I spent the whole night contemplating on the lessons that God thought me yesterday, thus providing me with the excuse for not writing this yesterday…hehehe.

Here’s the story…

I went to meet a couple of friends at different time intervals yesterday. The King and The Jester (later on in life I’ll tell why I named them like I named them). Back to the story, I went and met The King first. On the way to the mountain where he oversees his kingdom (not a big one but still significant), I was a bit down thinking about not being able to generate enough money during the eleventh month of the year. The Faraway Princess, The Regents and The Mamak Bendahara have yet to fail in reminding me of this fact – adding more head cracking headaches to my tiny little head. Like all those who are troubled in life, all I can do is sighing out loud, blaming everything and everyone except my self for my incompetence.

I reached at the King’s mountain at somewhere around two. He was quit busy going trough an intelligence report of a spy from the kingdom of bandits. So I decided to let him be and meet him when the shadow is longer than the pole. When the time has come, we met. The King has asked me to accompany him to see his stable-master. So we went to stables. The King presented me with a really big surprise! He’s having all three of his silver chariots modified – an average of 10 grand each! “Damn!” I said to my self.

Damn!

This is the first lesson God gave me.

I told the King that I’m proud of him, and I do feel a tinge (yeah right!) of jealously of him.

The King and I have known each other since the middle ages. He hails from a kingdom somewhere in middle earth. He was not born in a royal family. His family was mere servants to the aristocrats. He never had the tutorage meant for kings like I had. He is where he is by thwarting the ogres, demons and imps that guarded the treasures of life. He thwarted them with his bare hands.

“I envy of you”

“hehehehe” he replied “why should you?”

“ye la, you got all this, I work like hell but still I have nothing…not even a job!”

“demon,” he says “bow to God, have faith in Him and in your self, question not of HIS work, and do it without asking anything from HIM except for HIS blessings and love.”
Wham! Bam! Boom! Knock out. The demon has left the building.

After that conversation which continues to be a very lengthy detail which I don’t have the might to write, the King took me to the kingdom where the Jester entertained his sire. The Jester served a foreign master whom like him very very much. (Well he must have – if not he wont kept the Jester for four years). We arrive there quit late, the King have some other thing to so he left me there with the Jester who has an inverted smile on his face. What do you expect? I was almost an hour late.

We both had a sip of our poison before we make our move to the Tower of Unseen Riches. During the time we were sipping our poison, (which continued on the way) the Jester began to tell his tales. He said that being a court Jester is not easy. Day in day out he have to make sure his sire is happy by making jokes on the other members of the court – form the wizards down to the peasants. It is his responsibility to his sire.

But he is not happy.

Time for God’s second lesson.

Jester told me that he is unhappy because although he has completed his duties for his sire, he has neglected much of his duties to his one true sire – God.

I knew Jester way back in the dark ages. We grew up together. Both of us came from Kings and Queens whose linage traces back to the oracles of haven. Both of us were brought up with great love and great wealth befitting inheritors of kingdoms. We were sent to the greatest of wizards. But even all that love, with all that wealth and with knowledge, we still have to bow to masters of different kingdoms to earn our keep. My path is slightly different from the Jester’s (tell you of my story later on in life).

Jester told me, even though he is of blood that flows down from haven, his sire have showered him with wealth and the wealth that he has gained from the Tower of Unseen Riches is beyond the imagination of mere peasants, he still is laden with unhappiness and inadequacy in terms of the material things. This has been the case even after he has be wedded Chenow White. “Don’t get me wrong, Chenow White has nothing to do with all this.” He said. He told me that all these is because of his negligence of his duties towards his true sire.

“The One True Sire has given me much” he said. “So much and so graciously – even when I am too arrogant to bow my head to HIM.”

“I envy you” said the Jester using the exact same words that I have uttered to the King earlier. “You, my dear demon, never failed to fulfill your to duties to the One True Sire no matter what.” If only he knew. Jester continues telling me that he has set an absolute resolution and has been for the past two week kept true to it. He has and is disciplining himself to immediately answer to all of the calls of the One True Sire’s summoner - all five calls. Even if he has to go against the stomping stampede of the Glittering Emperor’s herd heading back to their barns when the sun beginning to hide it self beyond the horizon.

“I envy you” said the Jester again.

“I envy you because all this while you have been telling me of this - this sweetness that one could have just by loving HIM truly. All this while I have been too arrogant to HIM even when I knew that HE is my true Master”

The demon black out. Two knock outs in one day.

When I got back to my pit, I began to think and reflect back at what God has taught me today. I felt ashamed. I am humbled. I knew now of the thing that I should known earlier. I have found the answers that I’m seeking.

That night I bowed to HIM.

Sincerely.


p/s at the time I was writing this, God taught me another lesson, this time trough the Princess. I’ll tell you of this later on in life.