Insight (13)

The text is strange…

Under each mountain lies a giant dormant.
Under each tree lies a serpent dormant.
under each layer of darkness there is a hidden fire.

You blaze most when you are in darkness.
Men fall only to rise again. You understood the greatest cycle.

As you see the cryptic drawing, you realize that the potion should be exposed to a blazing fire. Then suddenly you understand even more and you are frightened. Scared. And push the drawings away.

You must face a great darkness, so you might blaze your fire enough for the potion to react.
No seal is broken easily. You knew it is no easy craft.

You watch the mirror and see yourself. With the scissors in hand, you gently cut your beautiful hair. Oil from the kitchen and coal from the fire is placed on your skin. The disguise might work well, but where to confront such a great darkness? The potion lies in a flask with a collar near your heart. You touch it and feel it and then you think of the words of your master: “The soul can be changed by the way you feed its fire.” Then you look at your hair that lies on the floor. No turning back now.
Dwelling in darkness you have found a life worthy of living. You can travel there once more.

The long travel back reveals old memories. Life in the woods with Aran and his men, the ambush in the Broken Teeth pass, the crossing of great mountains, the day
you saw the blazing fire, and above all the oath you’ve taken that day. The peaks are still majestic and covered in white, but the wind carries the smell of life. Crude grass, fresh dew and summer flowers. Beautiful spring day in a nature filled with new life. Down in the plains the lands look richer and the people look happy and healthy.
A cleansed land. A new beginning.

But all the beauty fades as the carriage stops and you see what once was the Black Hand Inn. Black ruins and only ashes. The place was burned to the ground. It tells the tale of a great darkness that once lived here. A darkness that almost consumed you.

Murderer!
Now you remember…

[ be judged ]

Warnings and Secrets (12)

Your tutor is dissapointed by your irresolution. You could have just said “Yes”!
Now he only hopes and waits for you to change your mind. He is old, and the harsh winters of this land are not something his body could easily endure. He said that in Italy weather is warmer, and each winter fades like a warm autumn rain. But here is diffrent. Another winter spent in the land beyond the woods would shurely kill him.

He said that he will shurely travel back this summer. Only a few more months for you to decide.
Dumb girl. When will you learn?

“To seduce a duke is no easy craft. Now he is more than a man. He is blessed by the high-king, which carries the will of God on this earth. If you disturb the kingdom with chaos the stars of heavens will be gainst you.
In best case, your destiny will end in death!

Think ahead!
The nature of the solvent is so subtle that can bypass all flesh and touches the very heart. That wich touches the heart can shurely have the power to kill. I know this, and my former master knew it too. A perphume that seduces is no less poison than a potion that truly kills. The same principle is joined in both crafts.

Don’t chase any fantasy.
Do not knock to the forbidden doors of this art.
Don’t question the judgement of the elders.
…and think of it!

What if you find the solvent that has the power to kill? You’d be dead the moment you find it.
What if the solvent has the power to give birth to love? You may be exposed to it and love things you should not.
The solvent spares no one!
All hearts share the same elements, even if some are rough and some are gentle. Never play with a hidden fire. Never play with one’s heart.
It is not wise my child.”

But you don’t take heed to his warnings.
Night after night you read his scrolls and steal their wisdom.
You can hear only a whisper hidden in the dark: “Read ahead. It can be done.”[ listen... ]

A hard choice (11)

As you heard of the secret fire from which souls are forged, you told your master about what happened on the high mountain, and the hidden light you could see in others. Sometimes dimmed and sometimes blazing.

“That was the Secret Fire”, you asked?
No answer needed. His fire blazed!

“You can see the hidden fire? If you can see it, you can learn more about it and expand this craft to limits I dared not to think of. It is the rarest of gifts, and yet it is in my grasp…

…what are the odds?

My dear apprentice, listen to me…

I dedicated all my life to this art, and now, with you, I truly have the means to achieve something greater. I am old. I have no family. I’ll grant you all I have after my passing. My gold, my land, my laboratory and all the secrets of this art that you can hold, but travel with me now! I have friends in Italy that I must meet. With my laboratory, their knowledge and your gift we can forge something truly great.”

You are flatted by his proposal, yet Italy is a far away land and the journey will be long, since the turks hold the seas. The travel may take many months on dry land.

Not long ago, you had nothing to lose. Not long ago you would not have glitched and took this oportunity. But now there is doubt. For you felt the seeds of desire burning within you, and the urge is strong. To seduce a Lord is no easy craft, but with your curent knowledge you are confident that you may succed.

You remember your oath, to take the world by the troat and take from it all it can give you. Is wisdom worthy? Since the last seal can’t be broken, death can be the price of knowledge. It’s a hard choice.[ none can have it all ]

A feather touch… (10)

You were triumphant. Mighty and brave on your stallion marching through the city streets decorated by the red ribbons of victory, under the cheers of all people. They were greeting you with red flowers and songs of bravery made in your name. They were touching your armor and horse to convince them that you are a man as they were. In their eyes you were a angel, a messenger, sent by God to deliver them from a cruel fate.

It was a mere touch.
You felt it like a forceful blow.

A young peasant from the crowd. A child-like girl who’s grieving eyes have lost no beauty. They tell you tales of sorrow, yet they chant of a beauty that never fades, and in her touch lie the tells of endless sins of flesh that she promises with the purest of hearts.

As the King humself, entitles you with the rank of Lord Protector of the land, you can only think of your wound. The only wound that cannot not be seen, yet it can hardly be concealed.

“The Lord cares for his land through his nobles and men. If the Lord has virtue, all his men will follow him in virtue. If the lord is strong, all his men will follow him in strength. If the lord is faithfull all men will follow him in faith and God is pleased and He blesses his lands and his people.” The old monk thought you well. But in the matters of heart he knew nothing.

What dagger pierced your heart? It is not steel.
What fire burns your soul? It is not blazing.
What sinful thought disturbs your prayers? It is not a daemon.

You have learned a lot to protect your heart against blows, yet you could hardly think a feather’s touch could deliver you such fate. A consuming thirst and relentless hunger that which can not be satisfied.
Endless desire.
Torment of your soul.

“Any other love, than the love of your God is surely bred by a daemon. Never fall to a woman’s trick, for they are the gates from which the devil enters our world.” As you cut your flesh to not feel love, you try to remember: the old monk thought you well!

But the pain barely distracts you.

You fall down and cry.
Broken champion. Defeated.
You can’t fight anything if you can’t fight Love.

[ suffer ]

The Ring of Diamonds (9)

[ Far in the south the knight prepares to meet it's destiny. ]

Your armor is thick. Your shield is sturdy. No arrow can do you harm, no weapon can bite your flesh.
Your sword is sharp, your mace is blunt and they all meet the flesh of your foes. A clean death to deliver them into the abyss.
Crush the heathens.
Undo their will.
Obliterate them all.
Embrace your destiny.

Supreme undefeated champion.
Fight as you live. Live as you die.

How many do you need to kill to prove your worth in front of others? How many more to prove it to yourself? When will it end? No man has ever had all the world to his knees. None but your Saviour. He preaches peace and forgiveness. You deliver it in death, even though the cross you wear at your neck is sometimes the greatest of your burdens. You fail him often, but still he endures and forgives.

How to prove a man’s worth? Give him power and see how he uses it. Little was given to you, but great things you have achieved. Alas, one last battle awaits. You know that even Gods are watching.

Bred under open sky by my a man who knew but war, you learned the ways of battle and the will of God. “The Kingdom is on the earth as is in the sky. None can be achieved easily.” You never had an easy life. The old monk taught you well. “From each corner of the sky hangs one angel. From each angel hang ten thousand men. When many men gather, even angels in the sky gather upon them and watch them closely.”
This is a war in heavens! Four angels against sixteen daemons. Indeed the Gods are watching this.

Great strength runs through your veins and great will lies in your chest.
A pounding heart.
Just flesh and blood.
Only a mortal can achieve something greater than what he is.
In death is all our end.
In death is all our salvation!
Have no fear.

“To arms my men! Do not let shadow of fear embrace your souls.
This is a day of glory! God promised us this day.
God wills IT! As faith burns within our souls we shall deliver it!
Raise your swords up high, see the black birds fly! Give them a feast to remember.
Let them hear your rage, let them feel your steel, show no fear.
Attack!“

The carnage was tremendous, as blood drowned the heavens.
Darkness embraced the world.

They say even the mighty God turned his face not to see the slaughter. The sun dimmed, and blackness covered the sky. The heathens fled, your men were scared, but then you saw it. You looked to the sky where the sun had once shined and then you saw the ring of diamonds! It was yours for the taking.
A mighty omen.
The greatest sign.
A destiny that will leave a mark in both this world and the heavens. You lightened up a torch, gathered your men and pushed it forward.

In one hour the sun appeared in his glory. The trumphets sounded and all men shouted!
Destruction.Victory. Rebirth.
A cleansed land.
A mighty victory.

[ The World. All yours for the taking... ]

Air, Water, Earth and Fire heed my call! (8)

Solvent of desire… The perfume is just a decoy.
That wich carries the blow is hidden… In which bottle the true scent lies?

All of this world is crafted from the four elements.
Elements are the soul of all that is real. Those are the brickstones of creation.All that is physical has much earth in it, but the fire is the very soul of all matter. Air and Water are the most sublte substances. The body roughly shares the element of earth. Fire is to subtle to be contained by crafts and bottles. The very soul is made from a form of fire.

The scent shares the element of air. Air can hardly be contained. Air is wind, air is intelect, air is thougt. It afflicts the head, which sents it to the rest of the body.

Potions share the element of water. Water can be contained, and blends to the form of that which contains it. Water is emotion, dream, desire. It afflicts the belly, which sents it to the rest of your body.

Men has most fire in it, for he draws divine light from heavens into this world, and are more prone to intelect which feeds the will(which is fire). Women has most water in it since they breed new life on earth, and are more proned to emotions that which forges the phisical reality(which is earth).

Woman loves the man, as man loves the woman. Each other they form one true element. When there is no love, equilibrium is lost. To much fire in men burns the earth with wars and feuds, and to much water in women is shed in useless emotivity and lusts.

Air feeds the Fire as intelect feeds the willpower. Together they form desire.
Water feeds the Earth as emotion is the true scent of what we call real.

Air and Earth are separated, for one is subtle and the other one is rough. Water and Fire are opposed, since they dim eachother.

The perfume is both water and air.
It is contained as water, but his aerial essence lifts it up in vapours.

The scent is the first impresion. It draws attention. It is a signal. It allerts the sense, so the solvent might carry a better blow.
But you were allways thinking that the solvent itself does the magick. It merely helps it. Know this secret, and share it not:
The solvent itself is powerless. The solvent reacts with your true scent, amplifies it, and carries it away. Your true scent will be felt and known.

Some have beter scents than others. That’s why some are loved and some are hated. The “True Scent” are the vapours from which the soul breaths. If you can change your soul, your true scent can be changed. Soul is changed by the way you feed it’s fire…

…as you see, things are not simple, for all are connected with tousands invisible strings that could not be seen by any mortal being.
Trough knowledge and discipline you might pull some strings that tie this world, and make it bend to your will.
But never pull to hard, for you never know all that will happen.

This is the secret of my art, and I hope I leave it in good hands.

[ pull the strings ]

A hidden art (7)

The duke passed away silently. The Old Monk, his trusted healer, agreed upon the fact that death favours no man. There is a end to each of our coils.

The so called “italian merchant” was a perfume maker. A exquisite artisan in the art of smell. Your beauty did not stole his eyes, for he was old and careless in the matters of love of flesh, but your keen sense of smell drew his attention.

You approached this art with both curiosity and promise. Your study was enough distraction from all other matters.

Few days after the death of the duke, Aran came by to see the merchant. He saw you working with the retorts, and he was happy for you as he realised you found great intrest in learning that promiscient art.

Your host made your accomodation easyer, as he took real intrest in your training:

“Smells are emotions.
To forge emotions is a perilous craft.
To master them, is even greater art.
I’ve learned to master this craft, and is time to pass away my secrets to the one who would be curious enough to hear them, and diligent enogh to master them.

Look child… Your youth can bear no grasp of what chemistry lies within that retort. But with mind and knowledge you can forge it. Most mysteries within it will remain hidden, but few more wait to be discovered.

Smell it, touch it, feel it, study it. Desire it.
It has no color and yet no smell. The solvent of desire can imbue most substances. This is what you will look for. The perfume that gives the smell is a mere essence, and can be easily extracted with the proper skills and tools. Yet, what common men call perfume is just the decoy of the solvent of desire! The perfume enchants the senses, but the solvent of desire is that which delivers the blow into one’s heart.

You may want to master this craft. But if you don’t have a heart for this, no secret shall be unfolded to you, and with time, mere teachings will fade, and old recipies will be forgoten. Think ahead.”

Your eyes caught a small detail, which later on will shed a light upon that which happened with the duke. Aran came with a bag and left without it. Probably a huge sum of gold was given to the perfume maker, of which later on you discovered that is far more promiscient in brewing poisons…

[ learn ]

A ladder that leads to the sky (6)

As you enter the new land you are impressed.
How can a poor girl with no experience of life imagine what man has built on this earth?

Great roads. Huge fortifications. High castles of stone on the rocks that could not be easily climbed. Sturdy buildings and great mills.
“A rich land!” you say to Aran.

“Yes, a rich land unscared by war. These people worked hard. Yet not all those riches are in the hands of the rightful. Most of them fall under the influence of the duke. He is much hated. His cruelty and malice is well known. He uses all power to extort common men so he can gain more gold, which he uses to expand that power even more. Regardless of my mission, which is to kill him, I can rightfuly say that men like him should not live another day…”

You were impressed by the new land, but the city itself was truly a shock. Aran lost you in the city central market, yet he found you after few hours when it was less crowded. You were staring at the Great Cathedral. He was angry, but then he realised you never moved. You were just there, staring for hours to something you could have never imagined.

“Why would man built such great castles? For what does that stands for?”
“That castle is used as a ladder. It leads to the sky!“
“Really?”
“Yes. If you know how to climb on it…”
“Do you know how to climb it?”
Aran laughs. Then he ramains silent.

Few more days have passed. You were wandering alone in the city, while Aran was allways on the run. He came allways late at the tavern, and barely he had time to speak with you. He was allways fatigued, and he could hardly hide his dark mood that began to posess him. Allways nervous, sometimes angry. But one day he came happier and felt the urge to confess:
“I’ve met a merchant. He camed from Italy. I’d like you to meet him. He may took care of you while I am busy. And yet, remember… my journey ends here. Yours only begins. It is time to go separate ways.”

Your eyes get wet but he grabs your arm with force and shouts:
“Child. Don’t cry. Know this… life can often be cruel, but there is allways enough beauty in it to make it worth. I may die, or I may live. You may mourn me, or you may not. It matters little, for you have a whole life ahead of you. I lived mine. You should do the same with yours.”

You manage to control your emotions. You feel the rapture in your soul, yet no tear is shed. Indeed you no longer are a child. Aran knew it. You knew it. But he allways liked to endearment you.

“My child…”
[ You have grown. ]

Greater than you can hold (5)

A strange twist of fates…
You killed and ran. Aran was honorable to the end and yet he had to run. But now he is not running. He faces the odds, he defies the winds of fate and makes his stand where most would flee.

Two assassins caught in between.
You try to put some order into your thoughts, but your mind seems as dimmed as the fog that covers the alpine frozen tundra. Is hard to understand. How can one fight with no understanding of things? How can you face the odds when there is nothing to die for? How can a reed stay against the wind? Where should he stay against it, and when should it bend? When should one kill and when should one heal?

Aran seems to grasp some essence in this hard riddle:
“Most men live their lives in quiet desperation. They drift away with a destiny which is no longer in their grasp. They are never contempt, always on the run, always controlled by others. They never shine.They only fade.
Look in the eyes of an old man. If you see a light there, a mere spark, you see a life that was not lived in vain. That man lived for something greater than he could ever hold, but he stole a piece of that and kept it. That man once shone and was in accord to his destiny. Nothing can take this glory away from him.”

Is still hard for you to understand it. But you can surely see that light in the eyes of Aran. And as the fog lifts up that light you see it blazing with fury. He looks to the frozen planes and the great peaks that are enthroned there for ages that man could not count.
You remember the peaks from the planes you lived, but you never imagined their might. As the veil of fog unfolds their majesty, Aran speaks:
“Today we rest early. Tomorrow we will cross those.” he says with a low voice, but you felt it as the great winds of storms has shouted it, as he spoke not with his voice, but his will.

And the light he spoke of can be seen in his face and is blazing! You can even see him smiling. A silent smile, as if a deep strong rooted happiness was seeded in his soul. You are both fatigued, drained, scratched and starved, and the hardest part only begins tomorrow; yet Aran is happy with his fate. Not just contempt, but happy.

And then you realize It!

No matter how hard is the road or how painful is the path, if it is in your destiny to be on that path, is a gift of this life. Take something to believe in, guard it. Make it your way, make it your path, and live your life.
Aran took honor – something greater that he could ever hold. Yet even if he was outlawed and lived as a rogue, he stole a piece of that honor and kept it. The man is in accord to his destiny, and he knows it and he feels it. Life and death, he same. He will kill the duke or die trying. But he will die with that light blazing in his eyes.

The new understanding of things gives you great powers. You feel less cold, less hunger, less pain. You rest and tomorrow you will walk the path.

And that night you took an oath:

You sworn that you will find something greater than you can hold on, and live to it and live by it. You don’t know what it is, but you know that the path you walk tomorrow is truly the path that leads you to your destiny, and once you are there you will grab this world by the throat and make it give you what you desire!

[ take it ]

The ambush (4)

…the plan was simple.You acted as as a decoy. Few would expect to see a beautiful woman alone on the Broken Teeth pass. The first village is forty kilometers away.

The carriage stoped and some of the guards were distracted long enough for the rogues to snipe them with arrows. They did not knew what hit them. The remaining ones were forced to surender after a quick decesive malee combat.

But the carriage was empty. The rogues were angry and one of them was ready to kill a prisoner in search for some answers. Poor fools. They were as surprised as you were. They knew nothing. They were just used to test the passage.

Aran, the ring-leader looks woried:
“The duke is an old hyena. His head was paid with much gold, but he out-thinked us with his schemes and tricks. Let’s retreat to the hidden paths we know in this forest, for he will soon be here and he will have many guards with him. He saw this coming…”

It happened exactly as he said. In short time soldiers arived, but they did not try to persue your party. They just secured the road while the duke’s carriage crossed the pass in great haste.

In that very night Aran spoke to his men:
“We failed, but still the duke must fall! Much gold was payed, much will be given after his demise, but if we don’t acomplish this we will loose our very lifes. The lord is our only ally and our only hope to redeem to a normal life. If we loose his regards we are all doomed.
I will travel alone, and my decision is final. You are all to scatter in small groups and wait. If word gets to you that he dies, go to the lord’s castle and wait for the others there. But if he not dies before spring, it means that I have failed and we are all doomed!“

Where others failed, you managed to convince Aran to take you with him as he will cross the muntains. After all, you planned to go there. The turning fate ended your stay with the rogues and you must go forth on your journey, a fact to which Aran agrees.

Reed in the winds of fate – that’s what mans are.
A reed can’t stop the wind. It must bend and twist as the wind flows, so that he may not broke and live another day under the sun. Some are bending but some are strong and facing the odds of fate. You learned great strength from your older companion.

He tells you of politics and the old feuds between the lords of the land. They strugle for wealth and power, and all desire a crown to make all others bend to their will.
“Once I was a soldier too, said Aran, and I commanded men-at-arms. I fought some battles. Some against the turks and some against my own kin, when the lords used me and my men as pawns in their grand schemes. My lord was killed by a rival and his lands were taken. Me and other loyal soldiers were outlawed, and our lands were taken too, not that we had much. The new lord feared to keep us close, for he knew that we were men of pride and honour, and he feared that we might try to avenge the death of our lord. The irony is that we would not have done such a thing. It may be pride, but honour is greater. But a lord does not thinks this way. But it not matters now. He is dead too like many others.
But I grief for this land…”

The path is perilous and long. It will take you weeks to cross the mountains and reach the city, for the roads are guarded and no horse can pass the frozen wastes you are about to reach next week. But the story of Aran brings you hope. Hope in that which is human. Hope that there can be a beter fate. A better fate for you. A better fate for Aran and for his men. A better fate for the very land cursed with death, wars, sickness, poverty and hate.

[ there is hope ]