"...nulli necesse est
felicitatem cursu sequi..."
THE GHOST SONG
Awake.
Shake dreams for your hair
My pretty child, my sweet one.
Choose the day
And choose the sign of your day,
The day's divinity.
First thing you see.
A vast radiant beach
And a cool jeweled moon.
Couples naked race down
By its quiet side,
And we laugh like
Soft mad children
Smug in the wooly
Cotton brains of infancy.
The music and voices
Are all around us.
Choose they croon
The ancient ones,
The time has come again.
Choose now they croon
Beneath the moon
Beside an ancient lake.
Enter again the sweet forest.
Enter the hot dream
Come with us.
Everything is broken up
And dances.
Indians scattered on
Dawn's highway bleeding,
Ghosts crowd the young child's
Fragile egg-shell mind.
Jim Morrison and The Doors.
“Have you ever stopped at The Road of Battles and wondered what happened in that place? Be forewarned, in this world, thoughts can be very powerful, even doorways to other places, other times. You never know just what or who you might find there.” The bard carefully placed his lute into its case and turned back to those who had come to hear him. The song was over, but the story had just begun…
~
It was a day like any other. The sun stood still in the sky. The young warrior walked along the road, the sound of his blades tapping against the steal of his armor played out a steady beat, a cadence all warriors know.
He stopped at a turn in the road looking confused. “I know this place.” He thought, though in fact he had never been there before. He smiled to himself while shaking off the strange feeling. And began to move on when suddenly he froze, chills running up and down his spine. “I know that sword,” he thought, staring at the rusty old weapon sticking up from the ground. He left the road as though walking into a dream, drawn to the sword as iron to a load stone. As soon as his hand touched the blade it began. Things turned dark and a thick misty fog rose up from the ground. A scream ripped through the air full of terror and anguish. He tried to turn and run. But he could not move. A gravel worn voice said, “You have called, and I have come.” The young warrior saw a shape coming toward him out of the fog.
“I … no…,” the young warrior stammered, “I did not call you.”
A tall lean Berserker with hollow eyes and ancient looking armor approached and said, “My pretty child, my sweet one, you chose this day. You touched the sword. You who are of my blood have called me and I have come.” The ghostly berserker intoned.
“The music and voices are all around us now, the ancient Darkness seeks to destroy all of humanity. Look into the fog of time and I will show you.”
The young warrior could see a vast dark army marching to destroy all who would oppose its will. The numbers of the dark shook the ground as they marched. The young warrior’s heart fell to the floor as he trembled at the sight of so great a host. “How can this be?” he said. “Who could stand against such a horde?” The young warrior turned away from the vision and it faded back into the fog.
“Alone you will fail, but you will not be alone,” Said the Berserker ghost. “I will be with you. You are the heir of all my power and knowledge. This is not the first time, I have fought the dark army, and this will not be the last. But you must choose to accept me.” Sound came from all around him; a cacophony of whispers, a torrent of murmurs, the ancient ones cried out “choose….choose….choose…” they intoned.
The young warrior knew in his soul that what the ghost had said was true, alone it was useless. Without the ghosts power, all his strength and skill would be no match against the dark host. “I accept.” He said. The ghost nodded and said:
“You must seek The One who has returned, he who is the source of life and lore. I fought beside him long ago, here in this place. Root; even now he gathers his forces together to stand against the coming Darkness. You must learn from him, taking all his lessons to heart. Serve him; for he has chosen you to be his Prophet.”
The ghost seemed to hesitate for a moment, but then began to utter strange words in a language seldom before spoken in this world. Light seemed to grow within the fog and it began to swirl around. The light grew brighter and brighter until the young warrior thought that surely he would be blinded, but still it grew. The world seemed to spin and for a moment he tasted death and the grave. And then all was silent and still and Savelfuser stood in the Road of Battles holding what once had been his sword; once but no longer.
Savel looked toward the west from whence the Darkness would one day come, and in a great voice he yelled, “We are the Great Ghost, Savelfuser! We have returned from beyond with the power to destroy you!” In a quiet voice he said, “This time it is you who will fall.”
In Loreroot an old priest heard those words; words that he had waited to hear for so long. Turning to the others with him, Morquor said, “Brothers, He has come. The Great Ghost is here at last.” The brotherhood jumped to their feet. “Brother Nihal, we will go to meet our master on the road. He is expecting us.” The Savelite Brotherhood was descended from Wind’s Berserkers… hidden, they have walked among the denizens of Marind Bell for centuries, but now no longer. Now that their master had returned, all would be restored. NightBringer ran to the stairs, springing two at a time he reached the top of the tower and rang the great bell which for so long had remained silent, but now no longer. As the bell rang out across the land, the others, for the first time in centuries, donned the raiment of the Savelite Brotherhood and ran out to spread the word. Only Eden stayed at the chapel and prepared for the return of Roots Prophet.
~
Far away in Necrovion, the Shade sentinel turned away from the scrying glass and the images there faded. He was uncertain of this new feeling, but he thought it might be… fear.
~
The Bard of Loreroot downed the rest of his mead and turned to go, when someone within Windy Tavern called out, “we all heard the bell, and many saw that light, but you don’t really expect us to believe this ridiculous story, do you?” BlackThorn turned back to the doubter and he shrank from the bards steely gaze and the painful death he saw there. The tavern grew quiet. “Don’t you know that a bard cannot speak other than the truth?” then he smiled one of his “take life as it comes” smiles and the tavern stirred to life once more. He left Wind Sanctuary heading to the lands of Loreroot to meet with his friend The Great Ghost Savelfuser, Prophet of Root.
What about me in Real Life...
I'm studying Physic and i learned that before doing something we should think! For example thinking of the numbers would say spontaneously that the infinite exists but if we think of share one thing infinite number of times we will reach something inseparable: the atom, albeit with some exception for neutrons, protons, electrons! And now it seems even the particles alpha, beta, gamma!
So the question I springs to mind is: is there really infinite?
We shouldn't be hasty in giving an answer, because it doesn't exist! Before the discovery of relativity absolute and restricted the world moved second precise rules discovered by Galileo Galilei and Isac Newton! Einstein said that this is true but only for speeds much lower than the speed of light! For speeds close to those of light, however, everything changes. The lengths dilate and time becomes shorter! It's really true that everything is relative!! Also Einstein said that God does not play dice, that everything has an explanation! But then you know give me the exact explanation of the concept of entropy, namely the natural law which tends to make back all in a state of chaos? We live in a world too big and complex to be understood in depth, but we can always convince us that the only greatness for man is immortality!