"What we are today comes from our thoughts of
yesterday, and our present thoughts build our life of
tomorrow: our life is the creation of our mind."
--The Dhammapada 1:1
When I was a small boy, I remember my mother, Sofia, placing me on her lap. She told me, "Carleon, the world is a beautiful place, you must go there and love everyone."
My mother's words fell on deaf ears as I witnessed the war that raged on between the Aachen Principality and the vile Sanadian berserkers, led by the treacherous Plenipotentiary Roderick von Boegenhagen. The war was there when I was born, and still continues to this day. I saw my father and brothers die in front of my eyes--it was my very dagger that dealt the blow of mercy upon their mortally wounded bodies.
Every day I led troops into battle, chanting the war-chants of house Aachen. Many Sanadians have been cleft with the force of my blood-hatchet, but their blood has never been enough to quench the flames of indignation.
This is the world I lived in, a world of battle, hate, and blood.
Even Today...
I sit in my quarters, recording today's exploits of battle. However, I stood up and marched out, my bloodstained Bradiche in hand. My troops were not in sight, but I felt the presence of enemies--Sanadians must be hiding within the perimeters of the Village... I prowled behind the houses like the night-fox, making no noise with the gait of a seasoned warrior-killer.
Then I saw him, Von Boegenhagen himself, digging at the earth... probably trying to disturb the war-dead of the glorious clam Aachen. There was no hesitation as I rushed at him with my hatchet of blood. The steel sung as it glided through the air with its dirge. However, the fox-witted Plenipotentiary turned back with his earthen Scythe and blocked my death-bringing steel of rage.
"Leon, it's you!" Von Boegenhagen roared, his signature straw hat hiding his eyes."
"None calls me Leon but my mother that you have killed, Plenipotentiary Roderick Von Boegenhagen! I am Carleon, Lord and Head of the glorious Clan Aachen." I roared back a mighty roar.
Von Boegenhagen grimaced, "Yes... Carleon, how would I forget. This day shall be your final day!" He launched his body at me. However, his movement was all too simple for a seasoned warrior such as myself. I simply dodged his attack and swung my death-axe at his...! Suddenly I felt pain in my abdomen.
I heard Von Boegenhagen say "...that's the end for thy clan Leon." I looked down to see my torso impaled with Von Boegenhagen's scythe. Everything went dark as I fell to the ground. Oh gods of justice, is this the end of our glorious clan!? The faces of my mother, father, and brothers flashed through my mind as I drew my last breath, the air was imbued with blood mist, thick and ferrous--clinging until the last bit of air was pushed out of my lungs with the very essence of life itself.
The End
The man rested his quill in the inkwell as he sat back in his chair. His room, which was the entirety of his abode, was lit by one single candle. The man lifted his head and gazed at empty space, his eyes half covered by his unkempt eyebrows.
The man's moustache moved, "I am Leon, Leon... SILVERBERG," The man uttered his last name with great emphasis, as if to assure himself of his last name.
"I am a Silverberg, a Silverberg..." the man suddenly grabbed a bottle of undiluted wine. He vigorously quaffed the bottle, trails of red ran down his moustache, drizzling down his chin and down his neck. His entire body seemed to undulate as he forcefully swallowed the wine.
"I was a great man! No, I am a great man, a GREAT man!" The man cackled into laughter. He cast the empty bottle towards the corner of his room, where many shattered bottles lay on the floor. As the bottle shattered against the dry wall, the man stopped laughing and sat down in his chair, taking the quill out of the inkwell.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"I am a great man, they call me Leonius Argentinus..." he started writing, again.
yesterday, and our present thoughts build our life of
tomorrow: our life is the creation of our mind."
--The Dhammapada 1:1
When I was a small boy, I remember my mother, Sofia, placing me on her lap. She told me, "Carleon, the world is a beautiful place, you must go there and love everyone."
My mother's words fell on deaf ears as I witnessed the war that raged on between the Aachen Principality and the vile Sanadian berserkers, led by the treacherous Plenipotentiary Roderick von Boegenhagen. The war was there when I was born, and still continues to this day. I saw my father and brothers die in front of my eyes--it was my very dagger that dealt the blow of mercy upon their mortally wounded bodies.
Every day I led troops into battle, chanting the war-chants of house Aachen. Many Sanadians have been cleft with the force of my blood-hatchet, but their blood has never been enough to quench the flames of indignation.
This is the world I lived in, a world of battle, hate, and blood.
Even Today...
I sit in my quarters, recording today's exploits of battle. However, I stood up and marched out, my bloodstained Bradiche in hand. My troops were not in sight, but I felt the presence of enemies--Sanadians must be hiding within the perimeters of the Village... I prowled behind the houses like the night-fox, making no noise with the gait of a seasoned warrior-killer.
Then I saw him, Von Boegenhagen himself, digging at the earth... probably trying to disturb the war-dead of the glorious clam Aachen. There was no hesitation as I rushed at him with my hatchet of blood. The steel sung as it glided through the air with its dirge. However, the fox-witted Plenipotentiary turned back with his earthen Scythe and blocked my death-bringing steel of rage.
"Leon, it's you!" Von Boegenhagen roared, his signature straw hat hiding his eyes."
"None calls me Leon but my mother that you have killed, Plenipotentiary Roderick Von Boegenhagen! I am Carleon, Lord and Head of the glorious Clan Aachen." I roared back a mighty roar.
Von Boegenhagen grimaced, "Yes... Carleon, how would I forget. This day shall be your final day!" He launched his body at me. However, his movement was all too simple for a seasoned warrior such as myself. I simply dodged his attack and swung my death-axe at his...! Suddenly I felt pain in my abdomen.
I heard Von Boegenhagen say "...that's the end for thy clan Leon." I looked down to see my torso impaled with Von Boegenhagen's scythe. Everything went dark as I fell to the ground. Oh gods of justice, is this the end of our glorious clan!? The faces of my mother, father, and brothers flashed through my mind as I drew my last breath, the air was imbued with blood mist, thick and ferrous--clinging until the last bit of air was pushed out of my lungs with the very essence of life itself.
The End
The man rested his quill in the inkwell as he sat back in his chair. His room, which was the entirety of his abode, was lit by one single candle. The man lifted his head and gazed at empty space, his eyes half covered by his unkempt eyebrows.
The man's moustache moved, "I am Leon, Leon... SILVERBERG," The man uttered his last name with great emphasis, as if to assure himself of his last name.
"I am a Silverberg, a Silverberg..." the man suddenly grabbed a bottle of undiluted wine. He vigorously quaffed the bottle, trails of red ran down his moustache, drizzling down his chin and down his neck. His entire body seemed to undulate as he forcefully swallowed the wine.
"I was a great man! No, I am a great man, a GREAT man!" The man cackled into laughter. He cast the empty bottle towards the corner of his room, where many shattered bottles lay on the floor. As the bottle shattered against the dry wall, the man stopped laughing and sat down in his chair, taking the quill out of the inkwell.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"I am a great man, they call me Leonius Argentinus..." he started writing, again.