"Only fools do learn and memorize the knowledge of the Arcane, though they shall never receive the wisdom.. the ability to piece certain parts of the puzzle together, for the Creator is the only one that reveals such Wisdom.. He only gives the deepest to those of a pure heart, not a perfect heart...a pure one.. a being who has truly humbled themselves and yearns to learn to be greater servants.. Only if our true desire is to serve through love, can one grow into the deeper aspects and meanings of these teachings.. knowledge can be bought, memorized and regurgitated, but it was only through Wisdom that the foundations of the Heavens and Earth were laid.." --Unknown
Before the divide, there was only love.
I was born into royalty, in the East.
To Scholars and Gnostics. Great poets published into 27 languages. But the war left my family barren in the end. Like divided sectors, they turned on each other, or lay blame to defeat, never to rise out of the ashes again. As I approached adulthood, a woman of twenty, I sought out to continue the story of my broken ancestry.
It is a strange feeling... to discover thereafter of royal blood when you have for most of your life lived as a nomad. To me, kings and queens of countries meant nothing. I did not consider royalty to be identified simply on a birth certificate. It was the noble hearts buried under ruin, with the courage of a lion and the focus of the falcon that deemed them Royal. For it was in the alignment of words and actions that nobility was found. I did not discover mine until I had lost everything.
One evening...
Reading a fine book, as I curled in close to get warm by the fire, I heard a knock at my door.
I opened it to find a small and frail man soaked layers through by the rains. He stood solemnly, removing his hat and holding it to his chest.
"Good evening Miss, pardon my disturbing you..." the old man's teeth chattered as he tried to speak.
I noticed a grace about him, despite his disposition, there was something timeless and dignified in the way he stood. "My name is Thomas, and I just recently moved in, down the hall from you. The copy of this key giving me trouble and I cannot seem to get into my apartment. I was wondering if I could use your phone to make a call."
If there was a moment's hesitation on my end, was quickly replaced by a kind of empathy for this poor man. I couldn't help but move aside, and let him in.
"Let me get you a towel," I said to him as I closed the door. He stood there in the hall awkwardly, while I rummaged in my room for a spare towel.
"Thank you very much," he smiled bashfully, almost like a boy, when I handed him the fluffy white towel.
"It's nice, right? ...I stole a couple of them from a fancy hotel room last year." I blurted this all of a sudden, shocking myself with why on earth I would ever reveal such an embarrassing detail to a complete stranger. The old man did not seem fazed however, and continued patting his face, amused.
I chuckled nervously. "Ha...ha...uhm.. let me get you the phone to make that call...Please, do come in and have a seat."
"But I am all wet, I would not want to soak your couch," the old man protested. "Thank you dear, II will just stand here."
I nodded, smiling faintly before heading to the counter to get my phone. "To be honest with you, I would never just let a man I don't know come into my home, for fear of getting assaulted! But you are old, and you seem harmless and even kind-- so...."
The phone fell out of my hand, and I quickly covered my mouth in shock. My eyes darted over to the old man, completely humiliated. "I am so sorry!" I exclaimed. "I don't know what is with me tonight! I am just babbling nonsense. Please excuse me, that came out wrong!"
But he stood there laughing softly, with that same amused look on his face.
"It is good to be honest, you, who is so well versed in weaving spells of flattery. To strangers, to friends, whether deserving or not... tonight, your sincerity is refreshing to me."
There was a moment of pause, where I just stood there baffled by what he meant. He stared back solemnly until I looked down and said:
"Uh... here you go..." handing over the phone and frowning in confusion.
"Thank you, Nina." The man bowed his head graciously. "For your hospitality."
My face was still red with embarrassment. I headed into the kitchen to make some tea and give the old man his privacy for the call. As I searched for two cups, it dawned on me that I never told him my name. Instead of a feeling of dread as to why a stranger should know my name, I felt rather oddly puzzled by it and headed back into the living room to inquire.
"Excuse me sir---"
But the man was gone.
And the phone I had given him was on the floor, where he had been standing. The door had not opened, I traced all steps, the entire apartment and even the hall. The old man and the towel I had given him were nowhere to be found.
~~~
A couple months went by, and I slowly began to forget about that strange encounter in November. Life resumed as it was before, though I was reminded by the old man again when the other pair of the white towel I had taken from the hotel fell out of the closet as I opened the doors one morning. I bent down and picked it up, running my fingertips over the fine fabric, bringing it up to my face to smell the scent of detergent.
Who was the strange man who knew my name yet disappeared without a sound? I thought to myself perhaps I made the whole event up, but as proof, remained the missing towel that was a pair to the one still in my drawer.
Not too much time passed however before word came again.
I had gone on a date with a man I had met a few weeks prior, on this particular evening. I remember it being freezing that night, and both of us huddled close together, waiting to get into a very busy restaurant. The line came out the door.
"Wow, the food must be good here," I mumbled through my scarf.
Before long, we were sitting in a cozy section, ordering wine under candlelight. The whole scene was terribly romantic, and I was surprised by how effortlessly I liked this man.
"Nina..." David reached for my hands before our dinner arrived. Our fingers interlocked with one another, and we sat there eye gazing tenderly. "I really like you." He whispered, bringing my hands to his lips and kissing each finger individually.
The taste of lamb...
the sight of it under a tangerine glow. Beautiful ambience adds more flavor. Or perhaps makes us more sensitive to the entire experience. The delicate the way its tender flesh is sliced through, picked up and fed to another. I was high off the meat or the man, I wasn't sure which anymore. And slightly disassociated even, as if a fly on the wall observing it, impartial. The sensuality, the visceral experiences of humans. There is something remarkably bestial about it. Bordering on callous. How selfish our pleasures can be, and how completely acceptable, even encouraged, by the natural laws of order.
"Where did you go?" A hand waved passed my face, snapping me out of my self-absorbed philosophies. I realized I hadn't yet swallowed the piece of meat, half dissolved by saliva now, still sitting in my mouth.
I gulped down and tasted the coppery essence of blood and heat.
"Nowhere..." I managed to smile, bringing David's palm up and pressing my cheek to it for comfort.
The thing is, sitting there I knew already no amount of comfort outside the walls of my own flesh would ever be enough. I had used men when I was younger to stabilize and feel more grounded in my body. I had used certain food as solace, when I was feeling vacant inside. There was something about the materialized aspects of reality that I found no consistent interest in.
Not in the way David made love to me, not in the sensual flavors of a perfectly cooked lamb. After dinner, I remember tasting my lover's saliva, as his tongue explored the familiar depths of my mouth.
And suddenly, I felt hungry all over again.
I pulled him closer to me, and in his excitement, he pressed my body into the wall outside my apartment door, making sure I could feel him hardening between my legs.
"Let's go inside," he whispered, sucking on my earlobe. The sensation brought chills up my spine, and goosebumps all over. I delighted in sensation. I knew all about sensation. But what about love? Before the divide, there was only love.
..to be cont.