I was afraid, then, for I had never before been questioned by such a man in this way. As I searched Memory for an appropriate line of hexameter the dry voice of the Saint suddenly flew to my aid and his cool shadow veiled my bewildered face.
“May the God be with you now and always,” he responded smoothly, “and assist you in fulfilling a glorious destiny, as befits the one who brought light to Delphi in her darkest hour.”
He cast a searching glance in my direction and got to his knees before the Tetrarch with arms outspread. “I give you my heartfelt thanks that she has been spared the fate which befell the others. You have saved her,” He added simply. My noble guardian hung his head with such an aspect of total supplication that it quite surprised me.
The Tetrarch did not appear surprised, however, but instead smiled broadly, dazzling us all with his countenance and appearing so handsome that I stared at him in amazement. He laughed merrily. “My dear friend, there is no need at all for this attitude, please arise!”
While he was doing as bidden the Tetrarch astonished us further with the following words. “You know, do you not, that this is a priceless vessel now set before me? I greatly desire to know more about the holy blood that is running through her veins.”
Showing posts with label memory. Show all posts
Showing posts with label memory. Show all posts
Tuesday, 3 June 2014
Tuesday, 20 May 2014
Days of Transformation
An indeterminate length of time later the witness re-emerged, relieved of magazine and whiskey glass but clutching to heart an exceedingly large, old and important-looking volume.
The disappearance of Pros Theon had ended a few short minutes after its guardian entered the bathroom, whereupon it was joyfully rediscovered at the bottom of a towering stack of reading material.
Unspeakably relieved, the witness placed Pros Theon on the polished wooden desk with a great sense of ceremony, lit an ancient lamp and turned to the penultimate section:
Μεταμόρφωσις ἀλκυονίδες (Transformatio Dies)[i]
Translating and interpreting the metamorphosing text was a mission that took every effort of will and imagination, the fruits of the prophetic tome being rare and arcane indeed.
In need of divine assistance, the witness looked over the text and out of the window for inspiration, focusing on the swaying tree tops as a breath-taking vision manifested with perfect clarity in the azure ether.
A great supernatural bird – a huge white-headed eagle – awoke prophetic memory with his clairvoyant eyes then spread his enormous wings and flew towards the window. His sights were locked with terrible precision on the fixated witness, who felt a heavenly upsurge of pure joy and ran in the eagle’s direction as if physically lifted from the chair, having reverted back to childhood in a twinkling of the eye.
They reached the window as one and were simultaneously faced with the knowledge that a window between worlds was separating them, maybe for the better. Yet the witness was still able to grasp one of the bird’s magnificent tail feathers and later attach it to the sun-tinted dream catcher. More evocations of Halcyon Days would be captured by this than all the other feathers combined.
[i] Days of Transformation
The disappearance of Pros Theon had ended a few short minutes after its guardian entered the bathroom, whereupon it was joyfully rediscovered at the bottom of a towering stack of reading material.
Unspeakably relieved, the witness placed Pros Theon on the polished wooden desk with a great sense of ceremony, lit an ancient lamp and turned to the penultimate section:
Μεταμόρφωσις ἀλκυονίδες (Transformatio Dies)[i]
Translating and interpreting the metamorphosing text was a mission that took every effort of will and imagination, the fruits of the prophetic tome being rare and arcane indeed.
In need of divine assistance, the witness looked over the text and out of the window for inspiration, focusing on the swaying tree tops as a breath-taking vision manifested with perfect clarity in the azure ether.
A great supernatural bird – a huge white-headed eagle – awoke prophetic memory with his clairvoyant eyes then spread his enormous wings and flew towards the window. His sights were locked with terrible precision on the fixated witness, who felt a heavenly upsurge of pure joy and ran in the eagle’s direction as if physically lifted from the chair, having reverted back to childhood in a twinkling of the eye.
They reached the window as one and were simultaneously faced with the knowledge that a window between worlds was separating them, maybe for the better. Yet the witness was still able to grasp one of the bird’s magnificent tail feathers and later attach it to the sun-tinted dream catcher. More evocations of Halcyon Days would be captured by this than all the other feathers combined.
[i] Days of Transformation
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