There are the Black Caves. The truth can be found there, if you are willing give something up. The Caves are passageways.
CONNECTION: ALL YOU SEE THROUGH YOUR EYES.
There are the Winter Courts. If you can survive the cold, you may travel there, but beware of what the cold brings. The Courts are passageways.
CONNECTION: WITH THE BOY THERE, GOING IS UNWISE.
There are the Night Lands. If they allow you, you may try to traverse the land of shadows -- just be careful of where you go. The Lands are passageways.
CONNECTION: WHERE SHADOWS DARKEN THE SKIES.
Friday, July 8, 2011
Thursday, July 7, 2011
The Past Is A Different Country
In 1964, a group of four teenagers made a pact. They had each turned seventeen, one after the other, and they made this pact after much thought and worry. They had seen things, had experience certain events, been made aware of the hidden nature of the world.
In the years to come, three of the four would break this pact. Each would have their breaking point -- war, death, love, sacrifice. One gave his life for another. One went to work for the thing it swore it would never work for. One became a hermit, living alone among shadows, working for everyone and no one.
The fourth, the one who never broke the pact, eventually came to realize that he had no friends. He was a friend to no one.
So he decided he would take what he learned, take all his knowledge and share it. Spread it among the newest generation in the form of puzzles and clues. He knew this was a silly way to disseminate information, but he decided that knowledge had to be earned, had to be worked for.
Knowledge is power, but power corrupts. Too much knowledge will corrupt, as it did with three of the four. The fourth, who never broke the pact, sometimes wishes he had, wishes he was still that seventeen-year-old, sitting with his friends on that cool summer day in '64.
But the past has slipped away. Soon the future becomes the present and the present becomes the past and everything will slip away.
I, Amicus Nemini, of the unbroken pact, friend to no one, will soon be past. I will soon die. If by one of Their hands, I will simply fade into nothing, but if not, I will meet the Hourless and be with all the others. I will meet it unafraid.
I will still impart some more knowledge before I go. I will tell you of the other passageways and of the others, the three who broke the pact. I will try to prepare for tomorrow to become today.
For soon today will become yesterday. And all our yesterdays have lighted fools the way to dusty death.
In the years to come, three of the four would break this pact. Each would have their breaking point -- war, death, love, sacrifice. One gave his life for another. One went to work for the thing it swore it would never work for. One became a hermit, living alone among shadows, working for everyone and no one.
The fourth, the one who never broke the pact, eventually came to realize that he had no friends. He was a friend to no one.
So he decided he would take what he learned, take all his knowledge and share it. Spread it among the newest generation in the form of puzzles and clues. He knew this was a silly way to disseminate information, but he decided that knowledge had to be earned, had to be worked for.
Knowledge is power, but power corrupts. Too much knowledge will corrupt, as it did with three of the four. The fourth, who never broke the pact, sometimes wishes he had, wishes he was still that seventeen-year-old, sitting with his friends on that cool summer day in '64.
But the past has slipped away. Soon the future becomes the present and the present becomes the past and everything will slip away.
I, Amicus Nemini, of the unbroken pact, friend to no one, will soon be past. I will soon die. If by one of Their hands, I will simply fade into nothing, but if not, I will meet the Hourless and be with all the others. I will meet it unafraid.
I will still impart some more knowledge before I go. I will tell you of the other passageways and of the others, the three who broke the pact. I will try to prepare for tomorrow to become today.
For soon today will become yesterday. And all our yesterdays have lighted fools the way to dusty death.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)