Thursday 25 January 2018

Short entry 27: Darkness clad

Darkness clad he walks in the old city, the metal under his boots clanking on the stoned floor as he approaches the Avenue of The Way. Ancient books describe the Avenue as " a long winded road linking the City with the Palace of the Gods, with statues spread on it representing the twenty two concepts that are God". In this days, as he walks down from the ruins towards the ruins, grass and other invasive weeds spring from between the cobbles and the statues are old and weathered, their inscriptions barely readable. Still, he knew the order by heart, and upon the first statue he said the appropriate words, that I will translate here since our alphabet can't actually reproduce the sounds he used : "On the first step of the journey we are all fools". By recognizing his stupidity and foolishness he is now ready to start learning. 
 Darkness still clad him as he went to the next statue. As dark as it was, enough that a normal person wouldn't be able to see his own feet, he had no lights in him nor did he seem to need them, being as he was part of the night. The second statue was of an old man at a table. "We pick our cross to bear with us till the end". On the old days, there would be a priest near by with items he'd place on the table for pilgrims on the Way to take with them, now the table was empty except for a set of three lone cobbles on it. He picked one at random and moved on. A woman of old stone waits him at the next stop, sitting on a throne : "We all know things we never learned and that we thank to You lady" and after a bow, the darkness that is he walks down again, just a few steps to another stone woman in a throne. But while the previous one was serene and religious this one was regal and fierce. "In your reign, lady, we are given life" were the words he spoke now. Again he bowed, as he will do again five more times : once for each other stone woman on his path to wisdom and the Gods. His stride slows down, as if he is fearful for the next statue. It's a long walk and he's dragging his feet all the way to there. Even the darkness surrounding him seems to fade a bit as he approaches the statue, the biggest so far, a middle-aged man, sitting in a throne, scepter in hand, sword in the lap crown in the head. Instead of bowing he actually kneels this time and speaks with a lowered head "We are nothing before your power and we are here to praise and adore". He somehow manages to get back up while turning around and then passes by the statue without looking straight at it. This particular statue representing the God of Power sees to be harder for him than the rest as he lets out a long breath and resumes his fast pace towards the next one, another man in a throne holding the sacred symbols of god in his hands. "Through you our prayers reach God and for that we thank you". His steps take him quickly and not very reverentially away into the next statue , that are actually two, a girl and a boy, both looking at each other naked bodies with tenderness and warmth. He smiles, for the first time in many months, maybe even years as he intones "We are the fruits of your love and for that we love you". There's no way for me to do justice to the magicality of the sound his evocations had in that long lost and forgotten language, where every one of them is a mirror of it self, sounds that start high pitched, go low, and returns to the high pitch or vice versa. I could try to translate it this, more common, language but it still wouldn't be the same. 
"we are your love's children and as children love you do we" is more akin to the phraseology used in his evocations. But not all translations can be this easily done, nor is it important. In fact, even the words aren't important, only the actual meaning, so he could have used other sentences as long as the meaning "we are the progeny of the love of god and in for that love we thank him" was in there.
 The next statue is a chariot being pulled by a couple of mythological creatures, winged lions that would, to a historian of our days look vaguely babylonian. "With your power we triumph" he says, arms outstretched, his darkness as wings of night in the lightless void that surrounded everything in the Way. The next statue also has the right to a bow, being a woman wrestling a lion: "You are what we have of strength".  Next on the Avenue, instead of a sitting in a pedestal as the others have, the statue of an old man sits inside a cave, a lamp now devoid of light in his hand and a staff of wisdom in the other. Kneeling before the entry, he says the words "We learn of you and all knowledge is ours" and, from his pockets, produces a candle that he places inside the lantern, lit, the first light seen there in ages. As he leaves the cave, the small light from the candle hardly visible just a few steps after, the next sculpture is seen on the distance: a eight-spoked wheel. No statues adorned the wheel, but you could tell that the outer face used to have engravings of people on them. Despite the massive size of it and being made of stone, as he reaches it he spins it: "You spin the wheel and we live your will". He doesn't stay enough time to see where the wheel falls. Both because he is not supposed to, since you only know your fate as it hits you, and because even if he wanted to know where the wheel landed he couldn't as the engravings have long lost meaning.
 Another woman, standing and holding in her left hand a sword and in her right hand scales. "You are justice and by thy laws we abide". He bows and leaves for the next one, a gallows with a victim, but hanged from a single ankle. The statue is a feat of engineering, all that weight being kept in place only by a stone rope. He speaks once more "We are prisoners of your fate and to it we submit". He doesn't delay here, and moves, fast paced but anxious almost as if he, once again feared the next stop, but this time I think all of us would understand his fear : a grim reaper complete with cape, cowl and a scythe. "At your feet we die and change into new" he says. Again, he won't linger next to the statue, moving fast to the next one, a woman mixing the drink from one pot into the drink from another. His words are spoken hastily and even his bow is short and fast "you measure our worth and we accept". He almost runs towards the devilish statue that stands next on his way, his darkness running behind him. Barely stopping he says "you are freedom from temptation and punishment as redemption". Still running, as if afraid he wont have time to reach the other end of the Avenue, he would have missed the next one if he didn't know it by heart. Next to the road, standing tall and half-toppled, a tower. Here he stops as he intones "you are ruin and we are destruction all ends to begin anew". 
 He regains his breath, or looks as if he did, and resumes his fast stride down the cobbled street, towards a naked woman, crouched at a small lake and bows as he says "you are hope for us" and then resumes his fast walking, looking over his shoulder a couple of times. Way above the Avenue of the Way a light, at this distance small and weak, shines and slowly moves down, not even stopping to pay his respects to the statues. The dark one now runs to the next statue, two dogs howling at a moon that appears as if it is flying above them. He won't even stop, just slow down slightly to mutter "In the knowledge of you there are no mysteries" and resume his run. The light one seems to have picked up his pace as well and is already getting past the wheel. The light stops there for a short while, as if reading the fate of the dark one before resuming. Darkness still clads him as he reaches a sculpture of the sun. He stops only time enough to say "yours is the happiness we have" and then moves down to the angel with a trumpet that stands next in his way. The light now seems to be flying towards him, having reached the naked lady in the lake as he says "we are ready for your judgment". He stops, straightens himself and turns around, throwing his cloak of darkness into the floor and showing the beautifully ornate silver and gold armor he wears under it. He unsheathes his sword and screams the words he had just said : "WE ARE READY FOR YOUR JUDGMENT!" 
 The light reaches him, a young man, sword red of blood in hand, with a dress of pure light, and a voice that makes the earth shiver in fear saying : "it is time to abandon darkness and return to light". His voice is compassionate and almost peaceful while at the same time frightening and filled with authority. The one who was clad in darkness smiles again and, with sorrow on his voice says "and I never did reach enlightenment and inner peace" as he attacks the other. His movements are precise and well thought you can tell immediately this is someone who is very well versed in the art of sword fighting but. Even so his movements betray that he has no hope of winning and sure enough, the first time the Light one strikes, the dark one falls dead on the ground, a slight whisper raising from his lips, either a "thank you" or a "curse you", bot words sounding almost the same in that language that angels speak.