CHAPTER 19 - "INTERLUDE DEUX"

July 16th, 1645

The Brazilian rainforest was a vast and dangerous unknown region in the eastern hemisphere of the South American continent. It was said that even the devil was afraid to step foot here for fear of being devoured by its ferocious and uncaring nature. The temperature was sweltering despite this time of year. It was the rainy season, but it felt like they were walking in the very depths of Hell, as if this forest and the Sahara Desert, in Africa, were having a silent competition on which one of them could be the hottest.

Miles carried the bags of an explorer. He was sixteen and had been in trouble all his life with the law. No matter how hard he tried, nothing he did turned out right. All he needed was capital to establish a well deserving life, but no one wanted to hire a trouble-maker and he was well known.

But when calls went out for an expedition to Brazil, he welcomed the chance to earn some money, and to leave his own, worthless life behind.

Monsieur Jean-Baptiste Tavernier, a well-known French explorer, had called for open invitations to voyage with him to Brazil, to find a new blue diamond that was said to bring fame and fortune to whoever possessed it. Tavernier had learned about this legend from an Indian monk who possessed a stunning blue, uncut gem, that sparked like the waters as seen from the shores of France of its open basin. Many had attended the open invitation, but only one had been accepted - Miles - along with Tavernier's team of explorers, when he explained where they were going. Miles welcomed the long journey.

The months of ocean travel was sometimes merciless, and a vicious storm rocked their ship, sending several sailors overboard into the depths of the Atlantic on their way westerly to South America. This continent had been discovered by another explorer, later known as Spain only 150 years earlier. Due to Christopher Columbus' oceanic voyage, it opened up a multitude of venues for colonization to the Americas by an over populated England, and also exploration and expedition within their many hidden facets, including the vast unknown region known of Brazil, where dangerous creatures were said to exist.

Miles was strong in body and mind and was excited to join this expedition. He was fluent in many languages, and was a great linguistic, which was one of the reasons he was chosen. With only a few phrases, he could pick up almost any language and their syntax and speak it back. They had a Brazilian native who was their guide on their journey, who cut through the thick foliage with a well sharpened blade, that looked exceptionally forged by a master craftsman. Miles had no idea that such a primitive race had such advanced use of metal forgery. After weeks of travel, he had learned a great deal more about this native's people and philosophies.

When they rested after a day's travel through the flora and fauna of the rainforest to their destination of a cave in a mountain where the blue diamonds were suppose to exist, he conversed with the guide about his tribal history and religious beliefs. And he was learning so much.

It was late in the evening, and the sun was beginning to set over the horizon, casting darkness within the jungle. They set up camp for the night and built several fires to keep the nocturnal animals away. Most of the team sat around the larger, centre fire, Miles preferred to sit alone.

The team spoke mostly French, and very little English, which was Miles' native language, being born and raised in England. But he was less interested in their conversions than speaking with Natuk, their Brazilian guide, a thin-built, young man, a little older than Miles. Natuk was brown skinned and for a primitive tribesman was very versed with the world around him. And he was also very interested in astrology.

Natuk enjoyed to gaze up at the night sky. Together, they lay on the ground on blankets next to a small fire, and looked upward. Astrology was a relatively new science in Miles' part of the world, but Natuk seemed to know a lot about constellations and planetary rotations. "And Gaia moves around the Sun," he said in his native language Portuguese. "We are all Her children," he went on, "to live, to die, and to be resurrected."

"Very profound," Miles replied. "Our science teaches us the Sun moves around Earth, or Gaia. That we, Humanity, are the centre of the universe, and nothing else existences."

"That is where your science is wrong, my friend. There are many energies in Gaia's realm that we will never understand, but to her, they are necessary. Our religion teaches us that we are but insects in the overall world and that we must respect it or it will crush us underfoot."

Miles laughed. "We have a similar notation of that, it's called our politicks."

"Politicks? What is this?"

"A name for rules we live by, governed by a few who believe they have the people's interests at heart. King Charles of England, my king, is a very strict and selfish man. A young man who enjoys conflict and who rules with absolutism. By his decree, I was to be sent into battle because I am a trouble maker at home, known to many; my family fought his decree and lost. With help from my father, I fled and joined this expedition with Monsieur Tavernier, who does not know the real reason for my being here. As I have an uncanny ability for picking up different languages, I was welcomed immediately. That's why I was about to speak with your tribe and acquire a guide to this mountain. Monsieur Tavernier was impressed."

"A warrior can test himself in battle, fleeing is cowardly."

Miles nodded. "King Charles is an immoral man like his father King James before him. It is treason to say, but I hope he is dethroned and a more principled king ascends. I felt that the war my king is fighting is undeserving within his own nation against those who only wish equality. Many men will die for his iron rules of absolutism. I could not in good conscious fight a war that in my heart knew was wrong."

"Then you are not a coward. To flee from immorality is a noble deed. But won't they learn of this desertion? You will be trailed and hung."

Miles looked over at Natuk. "You are very knowledge. To whom have you been speaking to about our rights and laws?"

"There is a Spanish colony my people trade with. As I am very curious, I spend hours talking with colonists about their nation. They are very telling. There are also other people from your native land, England, who have also escaped your king's immoral Civil War in this colony. At first, they were not inviting, but those were mainly the soldiers. In time, we developed a kinship and are on good terms."

"But there is disease that affects your people?" Miles said.

"Yes, and it only started to emerge when..."

"The Spaniards came," Miles finished. Both remained silent for a little while and gazed peacefully up at the stars. It was a difficult subject. There was no cure for the disease that was running through Natuk's tribal village and those around it. Miles changed the subject, pointing to the open night sky. "In ancient Greek mythology records, that constellation is known as the Belt of Orien or The Hunter. See those three bright stars in a row? He was a great hunter who killed ferocious animals bare-handed."

"Las Tres Marías," Natuk said. "That is what the Spaniards call them. Three wise women."

Miles was impressed. "Indeed, they are also called the three Mary's," he said. "Mostly, they're called the three kings. Which refer to Christian mythology, of the three wise men who crossed the desert to see the child of Israel, giving gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh."

"What is myrrh?"

Miles thought for a moment. "I do not know exactly, some sort of tree. But apparently it is very precious."

"A tree of life for a child who is just starting his journey," Natuk said. "Tender to live, incense to breath, and a tree, a symbolic gift of growth. They were wish men."

Miles nodded. "I never thought of it that way before. Indeed they were wise as the biblical tale tells."

"Do you believe in fate, my friend?"

The question struck him as odd. "No, I believe a man makes his own. I do not believe life is pre-destined. It is controlled by a person. Why?"

"Before our journey, my grandfather told me he had a vision of a man who rose to become a leader of many men. Not a warrior, but he was very powerful in a city as tall as giants. He did not recognize this man, but he wore clothes fashioned like your royalty. He said he did not favor this man and neither did the gods. He also saw two children - one the man basked in riches, the other he cast away because he had a disease."

Miles didn't know what to say. "And when is this vision suppose to come to pass?"

"Long after we have both turned to dust and our spirits have joined the stars with the gods," Natuk said. "But my grandfather did say your spirit will know him, but you will not."

"My spirit will know him, but I will not? This happens in the future and I will be dead, but I will still know this man of power?"

"Like all creatures, the cycle of life is forever. Life is about rebirth. Creatures eat other creatures to survive, children are born, and they then become father's and die. But the spirit remains on, carried, building knowledge from its birth. The spirit never dies."

"That is taught in other cultures as well. My father also believes in reincarnation, the circle of life, where even after a person dies, as along as the line of a family continues, the knowledge of the past will carry on to future generations, even if they do not remember it. He calls the human brain a box of wealth that can never be filled. But things can be forgotten. That is why stories are told to remember our fathers and mothers, to future generations so at least some of our past will never be erased."

"Your father is very wise."

"I am an only child. I came on this journey so I could continue the family line and obtain wealth, so my family can live properly. If I was sent to war, I would surely die."

"The rare blue gems that we seek are wealthy beyond any riches imaginable, and will enrich your life."

"How do you know?"

"Because they were created by the gods. And if they were created by the gods, they are blessed."

"Monsieur Tavernier saw the one your grandfather had and wanted to know where to search for his own. He wants to present them to King Louis XIV as a gift, and he has promised all of us great wealth if we do."

"Is wealth what you seek, Miles?"

Miles shook his head. "I seek to live. And if I can obtain even one of these diamonds, I can enrich my family to that of providence, so King Charles will have to respect us in high society. You see, in my nation, if you have wealth, you have power and influence. King Charles can not touch us then."

"With all things comes a price, my friend. Are you willing to accept that consequence?"

"Yes," Miles said flatly. "I hope to find a blue diamond and save my family legacy."

"Then I wish us luck in our journey, ghost of hive?" Natuk said.

"My last name is Phantomhive, but just call me Miles," he said.

July 3rd, 1668

Miles Phantomhive reflected. His life had changed dramatically in the last thirteen years.

On his journey with Monsieur Jean-Baptiste Tavernier through the Brazilian rainforest, he had not found the rare blue diamond with the explorer team, but they did find a mountain littered with uncut goldstone.

In the last thirteen years since, he used his new found wealth to build up the name Phantomhive to prominent proportions in English society. He even had a son that he named Tristan.

In another expedition to Brazil, however, Monsieur Jean-Baptiste Tavernier with a new team, did find what he originally sought and presented about 1,000 pieces of this precious gem to King Louis the XVI of France.

Miles had been disappointed that that he had not found them himself years before, because if he had, he could have helped buy medicine for his Portuguese guide Natuk and his village, who were plagued with disease, brought to South America by the Spaniards. The villagers had no defense from the "white men" disease, and sadly, even his friend Natuk died by the new diseases the new colonists brought.

He often looked up at the stars in the back courtyard of the large house he built with his new wealth in a secluded area of the English countryside and thought of Natuk. They had not known each other for long, perhaps a year during their journey together in that rainforest, but the young guide had made a profound impression on him. One that he would never forget.

During the past thirteen years, he had made various connections in high society with his father's help, and in this time, King Charles had been dethroned and beheaded for his unruly and traitorous actions against England, and his son was crowded. Charles II was a well-around established gentleman who cared for the people he ruled, unlike his father. And Miles was thankful.

Also in this time, Miles married a lovely woman at 22, and after a year, they had Tristan. Tristan was now seven, and seemed to have a great deal of interest in astrology. Miles even bought Tristan a small hand-held perspicillum - most people called it a telescope, because it used glass lens to reflect the night sky to bring the stars closer. Miles recalled a Greek mathematician named Galileo invented it and patented it to present it to the public long before Miles was born. But it was expensive, only the rich could buy one. Miles' scoffed at the price with his new wealth; he could more than afford to buy one for his son.

"Orien's belt, father," Tristan said excitedly, as he gazed at the night sky through the telescope, pointing.

Miles smiled, rubbing his close-cropped beard. "Very good, son. Now, thinking back to your studies, can you tell me why certain cultures call them the three Mary's?" He purposely did not say the three kings, as that would be too easy for his smart boy, home schooled. Along with math, reading and writing, he also wanted to teach his son in depth knowledge of the Bible. It thought a well-rounded education was essential.

Tristan didn't say anything at first. "Um," he muttered, looking up from the telescope. Miles saw the boy's forehead scrunch up and his eyes narrow, thinking. He gave his son some time. Then after a minute, the boy turned, and said, "Mary, mother of Jesus."

"That's one. Go on."

"Mary Magdalene, Jesus' most trusted women disciple. She was at the crucifixion, and Jesus' burial, and according to the gospels of John and Mark, was also at Jesus' resurrection at his tomb."

Miles smiled. "And the third?"

But this one seemed to have Tristan stumped, and it was a few minutes, thinking very hard, his mouth muttering under his breath of possible people in the Bible, before he slumped his shoulders and shook his head, uncertain. "I don't remember, father. I'm sorry."

"That's all right, son. She is mentioned in the gospel of John, but she is not as well known as the others. She is Mary, the wife of Clopas, who was a saint."

Tristan nodded, still unsure. "The belt is also known as the three kings," he then said with a confident smile, as if returning back to something familiar. "That's easier to remember or Orien's Belt."

"Very true, son. But often we neglect certain history because of its complexities. That is why learning even difficult history is important, so we will never forget our true past. And much like this telescope and how it draws the stars in the night sky closer for us to see, so can history draws us closer to our own past, so we can learn from it. Our minds hold a vast amount of knowledge, only those capable of it, can access it all."

December 24th, 1792

In France, the French Revolutionary Wars were in a high Voltaire upset, and people were dying by the thousands against a regime of total absolutism, according to the London Times. But Edward Lukas Phantomhive cared nothing for this. What stayed in France, was not welcome in the British Commonwealth, the pride of the civilized world, and he threw the newspaper he just finished reading into the fireplace next to him, where it burned like the filthy dogs it wrote about.

He sat in a high chair in his study, and it that faced a long, buttress arched window, overlooking the surrounding countryside which was covered in snow. A light snow fell and it reminded him of the stories his great-grandfather used to tell him when he was a kid of it being "angel-dust" when Angel wings molted, falling off, and dropping like snow into the wintery seasons, as they flew through the clouds.

His great-grandfather was a very religious man and he believed having faith in God was equally important as having faith in oneself. He also believed that the fate of a man is never pre-destined, and that despite religion, Man was essentially the master of his own domain and not some unseen god-like figure.

And Edward Lukas Phantomhive believed that whole-heartedly. The sway of the Phantomhive family in many political, social and economic circles started with a lucky goldstone find by an ancestor who struck it rich looking for wealth and riches in the Brazilian rainforest. Family history passed down tells that Miles Phantomhive, a well-renown philanthropist and doctor later in life, at sixteen went in search with a French explorer for a rare blue gem said to be buried in the mountains of Peru. While he didn't find what he sought, he came back with riches beyond anything he could have imagined, which started the rise of the house of Phantomhive. The Phantomhive family was a prominent staunch in England, and if you were a Phantomhive, you had respect. The Phantomhive's were one of the richest family's in the British Commonwealth, and they only continued to grow in power and wealth with future generations.

Edward was almost at the end of his life, but he had had a good long one. His wife had died more than twenty years earlier, and he still loved her very much. But as for the rest of his family, he hated each with a passion that only the devil himself would feel.

He had six children, all boys, then three grandchildren and further, eight great-grandchildren. The regrettable thing was, none of them ever visited him. With power came a price, and every Phantomhive, as they believed they were better than everyone else, were all equally arrogant. Once they were finished with something, they threw it away like garbage.

Edward felt this way. But he knew there was still hope. Well, vengeance anyway.

A knock came at the study door, and his butler entered. "Sir, a Mister Franco Tavernier, to see you."

Edward turned to the door, and stood on his feet slowly. He was not a young man anymore, but in his heart, the hatred he felt for his own family was enough to fill his flesh and bones with all the energy he needed.

A young man stood at the doorway, he couldn't be more than in his mid-twenties. "That will be all, Grieves," Edward said gruffly. The butler left, leaving them alone. "Do you have it?"

Franco Tavernier reached into his trouser pocket and brought out a handkerchief. He unwrapped it, and inside was a sizable blue gem stone. Edward spread his arms out wide and smiled. It was known as the French Blue, the same blue diamond, along with others, given to King Louis XIV by Jean-Baptiste Tavernier, this man's great ancestor, who originally found it during an expedition to Brazil. It had been cut to fit jewelry, but through-out its introduction to French royalty and society, it had brought a curse to all those who possessed it. He had spared great expense to have it stolen out of France during the revolutionary wars while the nation was in utter chaos, and who better to do so, than an ancestor of the great explorer who found it. It was irony. Miles Phantomhive went in search of it and never found it, but over a hundred years later, it would eventually find its way into the hands of his ancestors.

In Miles Phantomhive's journals, he wrote of a Portuguese guide named Natuk, who once told him the blue gems were blessed. They were blessed because they were created by the gods. But if they were taken without giving something in return, the possessor would be cursed and damned, as with everything, to get something you must give some of equal exchange for balance. It was obvious, that didn't happen. And Edward was counting on this curse for his vengeance. He had given everything to his family, only for them to toss him away. When he was a child, family meant everything to him. The Phantomhive's were cursed in their own rite, arrogant and selfish with power, and he wished them all damned to Hades.

Tavernier gave the French Blue to Edward and was paid. Once Tavernier left, Edward looked at the gem, drinking in its power. He would cut it, and leave each a small piece to his great-grandchildren. With the curse, he hoped they all would die a terrible and insufferable death, thus ending the Phantomhive line.

February 17th, 1855

"Vincent?"

Vincent Phantomhive looked up from his English literature book to answer the summons by his grandfather. He was in the study, reading over books and study notes for an examination he was to have a school tomorrow.

It was late in the evening, and the sun had gone down, but he was adamant about his studies, wanting to be a doctor or a lawyer, studying under soft light by a desk lamp.

He didn't care about his family's money. The Phantomhive's were wealthy, but he wanted to help people. That's all he wanted to do, and his father encouraged him to be whom he wanted. His grandfather agreed; money didn't make the man, respect did, and Henry Jamerson Phantomhive was a very well respected man about England, as was Vincent's father, Charles Lukas Phantomhive.

His grandfather entered the study, and Vincent smiled. He loved his grandfather. His grandfather was in his mid-seventies, which was old even in today's lifespan. Many people didn't live pass sixty because of disease or destitution. But because the Phantomhive's could afford the best medical care in all of England, he was living a long life. And his grandfather was as ever as vital as a man twice his younger.

Vincent stood in respect of his grandfather. It wasn't proper to sit in the presence of a respected elder. With a sturdy handshake, which was the gentlemanly thing to do to welcome someone, he clasped the strong hand of his grandfather, then they both sat down. Vincent in his desk chair, and his grandfather in a tall back chair next to the open fireplace, which faced one another.

"Grandfather, I am very pleased to see you," Vincent said, sitting up straight. To hunch one's shoulders was a sign of weakness and ill-confidence. "I have so much to tell you."

His grandfather smiled. "Your father has been telling me how proud he is of you with your studies, in letters. I am assured you will make a grand career. You have also shown interest in politicks and business, I see."

"Yes, but I prefer to venture into English literature for now." Vincent smiled, slightly embarrassed. His face blushed. He swallowed, catching his breath. "And, I have meant a beautiful girl. Her name is Rachel Durless, she is a countess. She has angelic blonde hair and deep blue eyes, as if they came from the waters of Excalibur." His heart thumped in his chest, and as he thought of her, his eyes glazed over.

"Your father has mentioned her as well," his grandfather said. "He has seen you two together, and believes you a wonderful parting. The Phantomhive's and the Durless are noble families, and noble's do marry nobles. Your father was uncertain about choosing a fiancée for you…"

"Fiancée? Grandfather, I am not ready to be married. I do like Rachel, very much, however. But I am aware over the last few decades that the Phantomhive line has dwindled. So many terrible deaths, and no one can reason why. It is almost as if someone has placed a curse upon our family."

"Vincent, I never thought you one to be superstitious."

"It is not superstition that abounds me, grandfather. It is a supposition that I hypothesize based on our family lineage. We are only what's left of a once large family encumbered with mysterious and tragic deaths and…" Vincent shook his head. "Pay it no mind. I am merely rambling at the mouth."

His grandfather smiled. "We all die, Vincent. Life giveth and life taketh away." He stood up, reached into his trousers pocket and brought out a small box wrapped in paper. "Let us think of happier thoughts. It is your birthday, Vincent. As your father is away on business, he asked me to give this to you, from all of us." Vincent happily accepted it. "You are a handsome, grown man, Vincent. Fourteen years as of today. And your father wanted this to be yours when he felt it was time. He is saddened he could not be here."

Vincent unwrapped it, and opened the box. And Vincent's eyes lit up, as he plunked his father's ring from its soft housing. It was a blue gem surrounded in a solid gold ring encasement. His father always wore it, as had his father, passed down the line to the most deserved Phantomhive children. Vincent had always admired it, as if it were a prize from the heavens.

He slipped it on the third finger of his left hand and admired it in the light of the study desk lamp. It was exquisite. Despite it being blue, it radiated an almost blood red reflection on the wall.

"It is said to be a piece of the original Hope Diamond," his grandfather explained, "that our late ancestor Edward Lukas Phantomhive had smuggled out of France during the French Revolution, cut, and pieces sent to the family as gifts, because it embodiment that of royalty, which the Phantomhive's have always demonstrated in English society. The original diamond was returned to France. This piece is all that remains of the rest. The rest were lost. But this piece, made into a ring, has remained in the Phantomhive family as a show of strength. And you are very strong, Vincent."

Vincent was awe-struck by its brilliance, and he could not stop looking at it. "I shall endeavor to cherish it as you and my father have, it is quite beautiful," he said breathlessly. He felt it overtake him with admiration, and his eyes glittered as he gazed into its ocean blue face. "And I shall pass it down to my children, when I see it fit. Thank you grandfather."

"Your father and I have overwhelming faith in you, Vincent. You are the last of the Phantomhive line. We know you will not disappoint us."

To be continued…