Some more from LighteningFlash: “ The Watcher saw the tiny steps leading into the loggia blocked by soldiers. Once in the room they twisted the arms of the Watcher and thrust him down on the ground. Crowds gathered just below the window. A rough hewn figure with a red beard and a drawn and crazed look pushed a long pole into the Watcher’s stomach. The tightly braided fisherman’s ropes cut into the Watcher’s inner thighs. Four woman in darkened veils and mourning clothes peeked through the crevices of the loggia. Not a word was said between the Watcher and any of the assembled soldiers. A slovenly holy man with a maroon tunic entered the loggia. He smirked at the Watcher and handed one of the soldiers some coins. He tightened his skullcap and began to mumble into the thin air. His words were not recognizable by anybody but the Watcher. Then he left the loggia and was accosted by many of the multitude. The Watcher showed no outer emotion. He just observed the proceedings from his inner vision level. They then marched the Watcher outside and through the crowds. He carried the symbol of his universal meaning over his left shoulder. It was weightless and fiery with love’s heat. They brought the Watcher to an abandoned landscape where slaves were bartered and whore’s bred. The full moon cackled and small dewy drops of rain fell. The Watcher was then prodded to get up and follow some soldiers to the trunk of an ash tree. They tied his feet to the top branches and his head dangled down. One burly soldier placed a spike into the crossed feet of the Watcher. Blood trickled down. But the head was illuminated. Both hands were now tied behind and spiked. The aura of the Watcher winced twice. For five hours the Watcher was drained. After that he was brought down, a strong willed woman, and a shy woman and a lame boy put sesame flowers on his eyelids and placed his still warm body in a white winding sheet. They were aided by some wandering ascetics and beggars as they transported the Watcher to a battle-scarred cemetery. They were surprise to hear some low breathing under the sheet. Given the Watchers psychic power and the faith of his friends they hoped he would live through this and they could stealthily hide him away from the wrath of his fallen time. But as they drew the sheet down from his face all breath and heartbeat subsided. They were beside themselves with tears and lamentations. They covered the corpse of the Watcher and put him in a quarried tomb beside the meandering river. The next two days they came into the tomb and lit 13 candles and spoke back his prophetic words. On the third day they brought oil-pots and flowers for ceremonial tasks and charcoal to burn as incense. When they opened the door of the tomb the Watcher was gone. With the angry scowls of those who fell victim to a body-snatcher they returned home over the river. In the dim morning light they saw the Watcher hovering over the waters. He guided their boat to a secret grotto and then stood before them. After instructing his friends for seven days he was taken back to his dwelling place and all those who, in their hearts remember the Watcher, their lives will never be the same. Several millennia later in a land centered by a white stone an ardent couple had a daughter. She was very normal in the beginning. But as fate would have it she became aware of the power of the Watcher within her. Not as a copy of his soul but as a regeneration of his spirit. When the Tracker has become one with her the Watcher will awaken to save this darkened world. She will experience the Pentecost of a global dawn and work for all living beings.”
Posted on: Tue, 18 Jun 2013 20:05:50 +0000
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