The Conscious Green: Hybrid's Find...continued

                            

In a very few moments I had gathered my wits about me and I had gathered my grief as well, for the understanding Hybrids have of emotion differs from that of Triggered Rogue. Since that Eve of Convergence, Hybrids not only experience and understand the cold logic of emotion, but now and also - the pain of a deep empathy of emotion in others.

        Something happened during the alignment to the Right Temporo-Parietal Junction of these half-Rogue/half-Wild beings at the extreme, opposing end of the damage it caused in those who had been Fully Passed. Our findings are such that, it cannot be called damage at all, but along with failure at having caused damage to their memories it rather mutated that memory into the photographic. And ever since that night… our Hybrids have become Empaths as well.

Added to the myriad gravitational phenomenon that the planetary alignment caused in every being on the planet, the ancient mental connectors have been awakened within anyone who chooses to go the way of the Stone: a thing - which might be referred to as pain. Because of this Hybrid's extended level of empathy, exposing any level of deep grief over the loss of my much loved courier, were I to allow it to flow, would be a cruelty and I had no wish to harm him. He had come to speak his report to me and had risked his life to bring me the courier’s EverBlight - for this dust, in particular, was of great value to me.

Once I had accepted the tin of dust, he asked for permission to speak, which permission I would not hesitate to grant to him and gladly so, for no Hybrid speaks without necessity.

And so he bowed, and so he spoke:

“Purple, my love, I retrieved this tin from the ground where I had scratched a small hole and then buried your courier’s remains as I awaited my capture, for a captive I was about to become – and by your One, my love, even the King himself. I knew this EverBlight, in particular, would be of great value to you.”

My stomach jumped at hearing this, as the Hybrid knew it would, and he allowed the moments he and I would need for the both of us to bear up under my feeling of dread at hearing of His Majesty again, so soon. 

To fill those moments of silence, that would have otherwise been uncomfortable, I asked him his name and at this, he bowed once again, this time eloquently so, and removing a make-believe hat from his head, he swooped the floor with the thing. In a grand gesture he went down on one knee and remaining so, he said, “William.    My name is William. But you, my love … and only you… may call me Bill.” 

Love: to feel it more fully and completely than any other being on the planet, as do the Wild, or to never actually feel it again: to go the way of the Stone; or to refuse and triggered to Full Rogue -this is the choice that every Hybrid must make. Love: regardless of the return of it or the unrequited pain of the thing… retaining the ability to feel the truth of the emotion itself… had seemed the logical reasoning behind the choice of going Stone for this One.

He would not only expose this love of his by speaking of it before us all throughout his report, which the law of the Council decreed he must chronicle, he would also feel my return of it, or he would learn of my lack. He would recount also, I knew, of his capture and his time, chained together with His Majesty in the dungeons for 10 days. His capture was the choice he had made rather than his other option which, in his logical opinion, was nothing except that which would expose me to danger.

Wisdom spoke to me then of our needs, we three, to be out of the unfamiliar territory that the living room had become and she spoke to me alone of a basic need to escape the shrieking that the perfect pitch of the soft flames was screaming into my psyche. Retreating from the discomfort that the flames sang out would, Wisdom whispered, help me to regain my balance once again.

To be loved by a One… is to be completely loved, fully loved and permanently loved, by that which is beyond human comprehension, for Hybrids are the only beings left alive whose tones have the capacity to blend with and to merge with those of the Wild. Once their affections are conveyed and accepted by a Hybrid’s intended, that One will give up his or her life to protect the object of that affection. A Hybrid may die while their love continues to live on. However, should their loved one cease to thrive, so does that One die as well.

                                                               

****

Jewel waited by the fire, toning with fire song and mutating the mood into that of something more pleasant and Bill, a beautiful being from the inside out, followed behind as I made my way toward my comfort place.

        Long and dark, with a bit of gray here and there, his hair was neatly tied back in his customary way and, at first glance, appeared to be cut short. But this night, those twin braids that began at the front seemed to hold together the evening’s state of our minds as well as they would hold back his cache of hair.

He was large, healthy, male, not heavy, not thin, but muscular. Although his wrists were thick and his hands defined him as that of someone unafraid of hard work, he was gentle of touch. Always the gentleman, he was also gentle of speech.

I had learned much of William throughout my isolation, by the way of the updates that had made their ways to me by homing pigeon. Through the snippets of Intel that these links - ever so frequently - carried to me I knew that just hours before full alignment had taken place William was ordered to surround me with his protection by His Majesty. But until tonight I had never seen him. Neither had I known that I had been encircled by this rock of such fortification that anyone who wished me harm would achieve nothing but the dashing of themselves to pieces against him before making their ways through to me.

Before the beginning of this new slot of that thing we used to call “Time” I had been sporting with the girls in our customary game of darts, in that little bar, in that little town. On that night, in that place where newcomers were always well and quickly noticed, he made the most of his uncanny gift of remaining unseen by those he wished to be unseen by. And on this night, I learned that all of those girls were gone, and that the only two survivors from that civic, were William and I.

On that night, His Majesty was William’s King as well as my own, and he had borne me over a vast distance to his King once it had begun - and we humans had fallen unwitting. One month later William carried me away from a man, no longer king, away from his punishment of me and away from his wrath, which had rendered me unconscious – bearing me then over a vast distance of another sort - to those few of the Thorning Purple, to our Elemental, Jewel, who knew the ways to Aubergine: who possessed the ability to pull into the Conscious Green. And here, with all tenderness, they cared for me.

Once I was well enough to hear such things, they told me all that he had gone through to ensure my survival as he brought me to them. And for this, I loved this One as only the Wild Human can love on account of such devotion. 

I accepted these moments and while William stood silently by, leaning slightly although never off guard, against the trunk-turned-doorpost of my tree-friend who had decided to grow into the arch of my doorway - shoring up my ceiling there – having long ago rooted himself in some unknowable place beneath the red stones of the floor.

He was a masculine tree and had chosen as companion - that ancient philodendron who plotted her own route by any and every map that my tree-friend had decided to use. And she grew all about him. And she rooted with him there.

I was explaining these beings to William as I paused beneath the arch they made, and I passed him by for my favorite mug of my favorite tea, wrapped in my favorite comforter: an afghan that my girlfriend had crocheted for me in another life, another form of time.

The air seemed cleaner or fresher perhaps, beneath and around them – the lovers. I could breathe when I was near them because somehow they made it easier to breathe. I had placed one of my rockers near them just to sit and enjoy the act of simply breathing beneath them and I had also placed a certain pillow nearby so I could grab it easily when I needed to sit Zen.

The lovers made me feel safe and I wondered about it so often that I had turned it into another of the research questions I enlisted in order to stave off the boredoms of long periods of isolation: “Is just me or do the lovers have the same effect on any others: Hybrids; Triggered Rogue, Troth-Plight; Shuai-Jan; the Loathsome Fringe; Breeders; Elementals; The Vague; EverTame; Feral; and others Fully Wild?” And I asked William then - did they make him feel the same way too - while standing beneath them like that? For, before the Elemental's group had arrived I had been completely alone in the Conscious Green and had no way of knowing.

But the important question that remained at the front of my mind was that of certain ability, which The Fully Wild possess, and those also with the Wild half-cells of the Hybrid.

There is a place that is called: the Right Temporo-Parietal Junction. It’s above and behind your right ear and it’s a very important brain region. It’s a special place because it is a brain region whose only purpose is: - thinking about other people’s thoughts. Concerning that place, there is an ability called: Trans-Cranial Magnetic Stimulation, which magnetic pulse only those Fully Wild and also the Hybrids, are able to replicate and then telepathically pass through the skull, into that small region of any brain but that of the Elementals, and temporarily disorganize the function of the neurons in that region.

It was for this reason that I wondered whether my unexpected nervousness was from within me or was the Hybrid implementing a particular skill that accompanied this telepathy, as he uncrossed his arms, raised them up over top of me and taking hold of a heavier branch of the arch, leaning himself into them… and smiling.

His eyes, clear, blue, silver-lined eyes, looked up to take care that his hands, which were firmly grasping the arch, did not harm my old friend’s garland-love. He gently shifted his overhead grip, and then shifted his sentinel cares back to me. And at this, the first time of many times I would lock eyes with him, the very nature of this One immediately sliced very cleanly and very clearly through that special region of my own brain and he made himself very much at home within every part of my mind.

The song of the fire tuned with the silver around the gray of his eyes, melting it into that of the softer sides of that metal, and it seemed to me that he could see clear through to the back of my head.

In answer to my inquiry the Hybrid said, “Yes.”

                                                                *******

The kitchen floor was also of red but differed from those reds of the sitting room. These had been laid and then coated with something that brought out each of the hues and, around all sides of each brick corner, a tiny, round, emerald green, stone, somehow ran. Coated with something that brought it all to a high sheen, that which should have glared merely glowed in its reddish sort of way and those scheming greens, each organizing their surrounds, gave it all more the look of a landscape that some enlivened mind had fired and melted into a solid, living, whole.

I approached the counters where I kept my tea things. These were all of marble and also green but of different hues that matched perfectly. There was an island/counter of the same and above this were the wrought iron racks, where my copper things for cookings hung. It felt beautiful in here and always warm. From this room the world outside went away, and along with that world went every feeling of confinement.

Rusticity camouflaged technology: the wringer washer - behind a double set of pantry doors; wooden whiskey barrel – a trashcan atop the incinerator, which burned it all away. Smoke was pushed and pulled through a filtering system: pulling a bit of carbon dioxide into the greenhouse to be inhaled by the jungle within; pushing the rest to the jungle outside. Gray water was pulled through filters also, and then pushed back into the outlet of the pool to flow once again fresh and pure, into the spring where it had its source. 

The deep, double sinks were of black granite, which also glowed clean. Next to this, to the right, was the stove. It had six burners and the even heat of its fires was that of one of the natural gasses that were created by another of our life-systems. The double ovens had been installed side-by-side, over the stove. Behind and above these, hung the vent that bore the odors of my cookings away, but first filtering every lovely aroma, or every botched, burned, stink away for, Rogue and every other creature out there … still retained the sense of smell and we had no wish to thus lead them here.

                                                                        ****  

As I resumed my comfort beside Jewel, positioning my feet upon the rabbit skin next to hers, she began stopping the cold away from them by the warmth that engulfs every being fortunate enough to be favored by the close proximity of any Elemental. William waited for the inevitability of my being so comforted and, as I sipped my tea, my grief lifted for just a little while and it was then that the Hybrid began his report.

“Purple, my love, if I may be so bold in addressing you as such, I begin my report in the accustomed manner: with that which my own eyes and ears have seen and heard to be true; and I will end it with a recital of a personal message to you from Aubergine….

And so he began:

“Once I had borne you away from the king, he was confined to the Dungeons. Because of your report to the authorities of his attack upon you, one of the King’s Troth-plight accompanied by another, gained entrance to your encampment during those two days, and these two washed away your blood, which the King had spilled while you lay unconscious throughout his abuses of you. These two burned all evidence of his attack of you. For this reason, after two days the Rogue Court tired of the King’s tears and the True Court was by the lack of this piece of evidence and deceived also by him for he does, of certain, seem very sincere. Hence, they one and all ordered his release.

Although, after I had swept you to safety, the King’s Guard had summoned all the King’s ministers and those who thought themselves nobles in order that you may be investigated and discredited before your Judge, their investigation of your history only served to prove your valor.

Feeling intrepid the King then, very unwisely, laid open his secret plan to your Judge, strongly urging him to rule in favor of your total destruction, which would have won the King the destruction also of the Thorning Purple entire, as well as all who support you who reside in this country.

 However, this far-seeing Judge listened intently to all that was said by the King and also by your own Wise Counsel who spoke for you in your absence and the Judge took to heart every word she spoke. In his wisdom, this Judge recognized the truth of her words and of the other evidences, which supported all that you reported to him previously, and by ruling in your favor – he ruled against the King.

While you lay healing here, your Judge then ordered that your One, the King, be cast into the dungeon for 10 days in recompense of his abuses of you, beginning at a time, which the King’s Defense and your Judge would agree upon.

It may be of some small comfort to you, to know that this Judge censured the King very severely before the Court with his promise of a much longer internment under lock and key, should the King defy his ruling of No contact. Thus, the King was sorely defeated behind the Bar of that Room, albeit much less severely than he would have been would one of his Rogue have Judged between the two of you and much less severely than he will suffer by my own hand because of his abuses of you. For I assure you… our paths will cross, his and mine.

But here now, I will speak words that will be of great encouragement to you, my only love, for I perceive that your heart is made heavy by the extent of your injuries and your mind struggles in its search for hope.

Upon the hearing a Call to War from the King, many of the inhabitants of the land have disregarded such a thing. Wild Humans, the Tame gone Feral, Elementals, the Vague, all of your Generals, and even those Untriggered Rogue; Hybrids all - who are newer friends to the Thorning Purple, have refused to side with the King in his war against you. Many also, who make up the Judiciary, refuse to support him in this endeavor.

        They are not afraid of him but regard him as a lone individual of exceeding low intelligence, who is contrary to the popular good will of the people, even to his own people as well as our own Thorning Ones, who turned away the envoys that carried the King’s demands of them. The Thorning Purple ran them off empty-handed and completely disgraced. These, live on even now, as we speak.

Thus goes the war: On the side of your One, the King there are troubles without and within. There are no signs of abuscade or of sudden attack and nothing that betokens the approach of infantry, but only that of the dust of the parties that have been sent to collect firewood: the enemy is encamping.

Our Converted Spies report, that the King’s authority is weak: sedition is afoot; the men are weary and nervous; and the King is in a condition of dire distress that his soldiery will not be submissive to him and, unless submissive, they will be practically useless.

At the time of this report, I have ordered our own soldiery to simply concentrate all our available strength, keep a close watch on the enemy, and obtain reinforcements. Although I do not make light out of this persuasive and deadly opponent, I do not overly concern myself with the prospect of capture by the King as I continually exercise much forethought.

There is much love, loyalty and respect between your Purple and yourself and I treat all with humanity while in training. My commands are habitually enforced and so your army is well trained within the bounds of that happy shrewdness, according to that which Wisdom continually instills in us and, my love….

…none of your Purple complains.

“And now, if it pleases you” he said to myself and to the Elemental, “I will continue on with that which the Elders have agreed I would speak directly into your ears and also into the ears of any that you deem worthy of hearing: direction, spoken into my ears from that which High Wisdom imparts to you from the lips of Aubergine.

“We thought it most wise that I commit her message for you to memory, as the whole of it would be lost entirely were it delivered to you as ashes, mingled with the ashes of another tin box. For, had I not retrieved your letter to your Judge from the courier’s boot and hidden that document in his ashes before I buried the tin, none would have understood where we are positioned in this skirmish without the knowledge that your letter had not arrived at its intended destination.

“As for my report of the dungeons, while chained with the sniveling King, this I shall report to you tomorrow after all have had time to rest from our journey. For tonight’s report, let it be enough said that Jewel and the Wild had come upon me after I made my escape from the King, just as they were leading the Breeder, the new Hybrids and the Wild to Aubergine to be judged before they were brought here to you. Had this not been the case I would have not known the way of the pull into The Conscious Green for, Aubergine and the Elders must needs judge me as well before I am allowed entrance.

Once judged, I was granted permission to be pulled in as well and so, to you who are much loved by many, I do hereby, officially, recite from the lips of Aubergine herself…”

“…against my will, my fate,

A throne unsettled, and an infant state, 

Bid me defend my realms with all my pow’rs, 

And guard with these severities my shores.”

My Dearling, Purple, 

Word has flown to me by the wings of the bird that, through Providence you have escaped your constant companion, your One, the King. I write to you from a strong position in my Keep, as you live within The Conscious Green and remain, guarded well, as you continue to heal and to cleanse these sores that for long had festered.

Today, as always, I speak to you from my heart, as one who has been right where you are: as one who identifies with your situation; to teach you the ways to get back up from places that seem to be too low to rise from and to tell you; because I understand you, that I love you.

To you, even thus held I say: take heart. You are not alone in how you feel. I have also looked like a fool for love. We have all looked like fools for love and for our dreams and for the adventure life has to offer. You are not alone in this for, even our Princes of old declare that, however wise one may be it is no more than ‘but the scanty wisdom of man that, on entering into an affair which looks well at first, cannot discern the poison that is hidden in it.’

I tell you truly, there is no element of poison created that can bend the hue of High Wisdom into any other thing than those things Highly Wise. There is no poison that contains any element possessing the ability to hurt any aspect of the hues of your sincerity, of your strictness, of your benevolence, or of your courage. Neither is there poison in allowing yourself to disappoint another in order that you become true to yourself…and thus, to live.

There is poison only in the betrayal of your own soul, would you have allowed your selfhood to continue to burn slowly away in the fires of the true nature of your One. For your One exudes the poison that had kept you reduced to your previous extremities: more oppressed than the penniless; more scattered than the homeless; without head; without order; despoiled; torn; overrun; enduring every kind of desolation.

Our Sovereign teaches that love for our enemy is in no wise poisonous, but the poison freely partaken is the self-betrayal of loyalty to the barbaric nature of those whose sole purpose always incontestably escalates to become the source of very death. Such is the nature of this poison.

Dearling, do not allow these betrayals in your life to become a poison to you but rather, be you opened by them. Do not shrivel away from the pain that lies at the center of your own sorrow. Do not close yourself off or hide from your fears, however justifiable for, “Fear is nothing else but the betrayal of the succors that reason offers. And the less the hope that lies within us, the greater do we esteem that, which vexes us great.” Understand that, by the word of our Sovereign, I bid you to embrace reason.

When fear is your enemy, it is human nature to run from it, or to wrestle with it. But embrace reason and fear will no longer betray but rather, the vexations of fear will flee from you. Take a firm hold on the succors of reason. Never fear to hope. Never forget who you are or that you - are a Wild Human. For I need you now and I call you to task.

You are so named for The Master and Commander of peculiar lifeblood, which is that hue appeasing to the veins: it is that color of a vehemence that is unconditional; undying; unfading; and it is unquenchable. Neither can it ever be bent or divided into that of a different hue. It is that true hue which was hidden within the blood of your spirit as surely as your body was knit within the womb.       

Thus, you must speak without ceasing to The Thorning Purple, Wild Humans, the Evertame and Feral, and to all those who remain, in such ways as I instruct you now. Bid them henceforward:

“Take notice of our Tame ones; Prisoners held and, in consequence, Slaves to their constant companions, just as we once were – their Rogue loves, male and female, – who seek nothing but to injure them on every level imaginable. Make ready to harbor them, to minister to them, to give them shelter. Prepare to give them rest and time to heal, until they once again, as have we, found the people they know themselves to be, until however long a time it takes for their courage to return to them.”

Sing out strongly to those weak ones, and gently to those strong, without ceasing to Thorning Purple all:

Speak thus to them, Dearling:

“Bear up all Humans captive, for I must speak to you plainly now and in truth: Your escape and thus, your deliverance is of no avail, which does not depend upon you, yourself. You only are reliable, certain and durable, that depend on yourself and your valor. And never forget this:  You    are    so    strong.

“Remember that Providence provides to each of us the approach to that which it demands of us. This is opportunity! Therefore do not allow it to pass, for you at last see your liberator appear:

“Your liberator is within you.

“Do not fear this truth for here speaks the voice of reason and thus of courage! And if your hues do not yet equal those of Thorning Purple, at least they will savour of it and I promise you…

… it is enough.    

“We will receive you with love, with a thirst for revenge, with stubborn faith, with devotion… and with tears. My door is open to you and my Thorning Ones will not refuse you homage for, to all of us - this barbarous dominion stinks.

“Gather your courage now, and gather your hope, and undertake this enterprise.  Know that there is nothing but fear, jealousy and the prospect of punishment in the heart of your warder, the One of your experience, male and female alike. But on the side of Purple there are the laws, there is shelter and the protection of friends and the State to defend you. Indeed, the very Universe grows tense in anticipation of defending you!

“Although the popular goodwill toward us grows, nevertheless those Trothplight attending the King and Rogue one and all, continue to be so rash as to conspire against us and thus, against the State. But whereas in general those conspirators have to fear before the execution of this plot, they have also to fear the sequel to their crimes; because once the State is through with Rogue on account of these crimes the males and females alike will then have the people also for an enemy, and thus your captors will become the captives without hope for any escape. With my own eyes I have seen this happen… hence I have a great hope for your escape.”

Remind them, Purple, of our Wise One who said, ‘Never let any Government imagine that it can choose perfectly safe courses; rather let it expect to have to take very doubtful ones, because it is found in ordinary affairs that one never seeks to avoid one trouble without running into another; but prudence consists in knowing how to distinguish the character of troubles, and for choice to take the lesser evil.’

“Understand me well: you must be the general in command of your own life and of your last end, for once you realize your Wild nature, or once you go Feral, and you will, you become the bulwark of the State; if the bulwark is complete at all points; the State will be strong; if the bulwark is defective the State will be weak.

“And so, you must be stronger than you think you can ever be so that the State may be strong on your behalf. You must rely on yourselves and on your nerve and also use this force offered to you.”

Find the ways to help them, one and all, to see that when one is designing to hit the mark of escape, which may yet appear too far distant, to first learn the limits to which the strength that their bow will attain.

Teach them to take aim much higher than the mark and give them every assurance of this truth: with the aid of so high an aim, all are able to hit the mark one wishes to reach.

Ever shall you remind them that all that is owed to one’s fortune is found within opportunity, which will bring the materials to mold into the form of any circumstance - which seems best to each for, without this opportunity the powers of mind would be extinguished, and without the powers of the mind the opportunity would come in vain.

 Give to all the following words, allowing each to choose their good fortune or folly:

“We hold for you the opportunity of many helpful circumstances over and beyond the ordinary rules. The circumstances are favorable at this time. Modify your plans for escape from your One accordingly. However, be advised that it is a common defect in man not to make any provision in the calm against the tempest.”

The tempest draws near to them, Dearling, of this you need have no doubt. The King, all Rogue, and every of their Trothplight feel it: all those who dissemble; those pretenders who are so simple to see through. These, one and all, male and female alike, are able to deceive only those who will allow themselves to be deceived, those few whom they are able to curb with ease in so many ways and only for the reason…

…that they well understand this side of mankind.

They and their King are pillagers of property and are violators of women, and thus they dishonor every people. Hence they have caused their kind to be hated with perfect hatred.

What a very rare friend indeed, to keep faith with any such as these! Malcontents one and all! And as soon as you have opened your mind to a malcontent you have given him the material with which to content himself. The mind of The Thorning Purple is a place of confusion to minds such as these.

The King has decreed that his Trothplight shall call it ‘talent’ to slay fellow-citizens, however, it is written, ‘Man injures either from fear or hatred.’

To deceive friends, to be unfaithful to them, without mercy, is to be without religion. Although such methods may gain empire, never do they gain glory and so, the friendship of any such as these is contemptible and they are hated.

I will ask no more of you at this time than this additional task, my Wild One: Compose with the writing of your own hand, sealed with your signet, and carried by courier to your One, the King the following challenge:

“Never again shall we, the Thorning Purple, bow to you. No longer will we remain in your Darken places. For my armies, The Thorning Purple entire, are Warlike. And my attack of your state shows itself in that, my army has prevented the concentration of your forces thus; I force you to work individually and in secret.

“I have overawed my opponents, and your allies are prevented from joining against me. And so, I am loved by both the people and by the State.

“Indeed, I challenge you: Gather your army.    Show yourself.    Attack me.

“You will not because you cannot for I have broken the teeth of your Shuai-jan.

“You believed that new benefits would cause your elite to forget your old injuries to them. Because you are without discrimination you have erred in this choice and your injuries to me will haunt you forever. This is only the beginning of your ultimate ruin.

“Because you are ignorant, the confidence of your imagined soldiery: that of those with whom you surround yourself; those who, to your face, call you ‘friend’; - is shaken.

 “Your supposed army: weak friends who sympathize and then tell me your every word- is restless and distrustful of you and trouble approaches you from these places, which you have left unguarded.

“You have failed to conceal your mind.

“You know this.

“And you show this by the wanton guilt in your laughter as you attempt to avoid the ravages of my war upon you. By this, you blunder in that you have brought anarchy into your army of cowards and now you have only put off - to my advantage.

“Begin collecting the stones for your funeral mound, for you - my hated enemy - have flung your victory away. I am close to having exterminated your leaders, I am turning your partisans into friends, and very soon now…

“I will forage upon you.”

Dearling, expose the Rogue entire to all - by public post, these descriptions:

“There are six dangerous faults, by which assessments you may, by all means, make certifiable identification of Rogue – male/female – alike:

(1.) They are a reckless race, utterly unconcerned about the consequences of their rash extravagances. Give them opportunity, then observe as they self-destruct.

(2.) They are cowards at heart, which fear leads them into capture. Put this to your test of choice and bring them under a capture of your own choosing.

(3.) They are hasty in temperament, which weakens them by making them susceptible to the provocation of your insults. Insult them and if you haven’t already experienced this temperament… prepare yourself for their wrath.

(4.) Their honor is terribly delicate and therefore, terribly sensitive to shame. Slur their honor and watch as they try to prove it.

(5.) They speak deceptively with those in their encampment, which exposes them to worry and trouble. Give them cause to wonder as to your loyalty and watch as they defeat themselves by their troubled minds.

(6.) They reek of Saturant: the EverBlight of those they flay alive.” 

And to all - post the following:

“Speak but seldom with these stupid Ones; for sand and salt and an iron mass are easier to bear than the stupid. Be not the companion of a brute; beware of such a one lest you have trouble and be spattered when they shake themselves; turn away from such a one and you will find rest and not be wearied by this lack of sense.

For you, my spineless Ones, have the potential for Thorning Purple… Evolve.”

To the Shuai-jan, post:

“Because your predominance has been brought about by force …. ever will I distrust you.”

Purple, speak with boldness thus to all:

“My Sovereign dictates that the footsteps we shall leave to be followed shall be as compared to one of those raging rivers, which as when a flood overflows the plains; it sweeps away reefs and buildings and bears away the soil from place to place.

“Everything flies before it.

“All yield to its violence, without being able in any way to withstand it.

“Yet, even though the nature of my Thorning be such, the nature of that defeated king is such that, when the weather becomes fair, he fails to make provision with defenses, with barriers, and with canals so that, when we rise against Rogue again and again, our waters might pass them by and our force would be neither so unrestrained nor so dangerous to them.

“So it happens with fortune, which shows her power where valour had not prepared to resist her. “Thither she turns her forces where she knows that barriers and defenses have not been raised to constrain her.”

And finally, Purple, your signature shall ever be:

“I am Purple Van Winkle and I am a Wild Human.”

“On behalf of our Sovereign you shall say:

“To The King: You.  Will.  Cease.

“To the Shuai-jan: Bite me.

“To the Spineless: Evolve.

“To the slaves and prisoners: Escape is at hand! Come to us! Do not go back!

“To the Tame Newly Feral: Take up the Purple.

“To all my Thorning Ones: Hold! - yet a while longer. 

“To the State: I covet your underpinning.

“To all: In War: Resolution.

In Defeat: Defiance.

In Victory: Magnanimity.

In Peace: Good Will.”

                                                                                                                                                                                                                        ****

At some point in the recital, Bill had seated himself on the rabbit skin and begun cradling my feet ever so gently in his callous hardened hands, in order to empathize - and to mingle the heat of his own with that of the Elemental’s. For the prospects of the challenges presented to me to overtake were one and the same with those also I must overcome. Both had begun me to shiver with the usual apprehensions of being up to the one, and with the other usual excitements of Battle!  And both prospects were cold.

But as I contemplated the precepts and the concepts of every of that day’s events and every of that eve’s words spoken here on this night, my mind began to be at ease, with my mind resting upon the shoulder of an Elemental and my feet elevated in the lap of a Hybrid and with every soul I was responsible for cradled within the folds of the safeties I could afford. And although this evening’s news had brought about anything but the meaning of the word Peace to plan out from within that pinpoint of quantum heaviness, which was called The Conscious Green, we three sat at Peace, for indeed “Peace”, was the song that the warmth of the fire sang out to us all.

There was more to be spoken but it could go without saying this night and wait until the morrow, for although our hearts beat in agreement with one another, the differences and half-differences the alignment had caused in us, dictated to the minds of our mingled races that each of us process these new matters of record in our own ways. Be they new ways or ancient, they were primal ways, all.

And so it was agreed that we should sit a while for tea, and then retire, to continue on with this discourse after we broke our fast in the false light of that thing we refer to as “morning” within deep of The Conscious Green.

                                 …to be continued…

The Conscious Green: The Hybrid's Find

     Although the vines continually grew, they never had overgrown the glass windows from the inside. They were thick with blacks and browns and there, below the still greens of those whose herbage re-sprouted, walked the Elemental and I, arm-in-arm within the magic of this refuge.
     The glass had been kept polished to sparkling, for a long, long time. Its age was an obvious factor and the smell of the place was of earth. Huge pots contained some of the other plants, and where there were no pots these beings grew from deep, inlaid, garden beds, made to last forever. These were seeded with worms, and other fertilizers that would renew themselves always. The jungle would never run out of nourishment or warmth and the Pool Room would always be muggy.
     Our hushed conversation was not overridden by the noise coming from beneath the structure of The Conscious Green but rather, our life systems continued their merry humming’s along, or hissing’s along and their toning’s, each in its own serene sort of way.
     On that day, what our own quiet voices needed no measures to speak over, was the vibration that powered the gears that ruled the heating system below. This particular system consisted of nothing more than a small bellows whose only concern was to bellow a constant of 2 pounds of air pressure into a canister, from its homey house under the floor of the pool.
     Whenever our bodily thermostats went below the eco-system’s comfort zone, a vibration sang out to the gear system. The gears would then compel the bellows to begin pressing air through a small, aluminum, tube, and this air was pressed into a tiny opening in one end of a canister: an aluminum cylinder.
     The canister was about ½ inch across and some less than twelve inches long. One end was intact: it was closed; sealed. Machined into the other end were two holes: one for the air-pressure being pushed into it, and the other hole served as the escape route for any air - above that two pound limit - to softly hiss, up through the water of the pool, and away.
     What extra air bypassed the canister went up and cooled the waters of the pool; whatever air passed through the cylinder, heated it. By swimming closer to, or farther away from the waters of the canister, my cold-blooded ones maintained their body heat of choice. Both hot and cold aerated the waters. Through the entire length of the inside of the canister was a triangular hole, which had been machined to some exact measurement and within and along its three corners, the pressurized air was pushed in and out. Whatever air came out was terribly hot.
     When the bellows began pushing the pressurized air into and along two - of the three - corners of the triangular paths, that air bounced from the sealed end of that cylinder with every ounce of its two pounds of contained force. This air then about-faced and rushed back through the third, remaining, triangular corner of its path in the cylinder’s machined hole, toward the opening at the other end.
     Contained air, brushing against itself in two opposing directions, under two pounds of pressure, causes enough friction to heat an aluminum tube to near-melting temperatures. And with these bellows and these small tubes of friction-heated air, we heat our every structure entirely along with the waters of the pool, hot water tanks, cooking apparatus, waste disposal systems and any cooler air that hasn’t yet risen from heat.
     The pool within was fed from without by the way of water from a natural spring, which came up just off to the side of the Conscious Green. Someone, in another life-plane, had worked it into a natural, rocked, waterfall, and had piped the water from this spring indoors to our pool. These fresh waters then ran throughout the length of it, down a nearly imperceptible tilt and out through small exits in several different and very precise locations. These locations were, of course, at the lower end of the pool. This fresh-water feed, along with the drainage, formed a slow twirling effect that never allowed for any settlement.
     The escaping air from the non-rusting heat canisters, each did double duty, keep everything warm and aerating the pool. There was never a lack of fresh, oxygenated, water for the fish and the lilies and the bamboo that was contained in deep, cement, beds, and thus robbed of its propensity to take over my world.
     There were male ferns, so we had to keep this Stronghold at or above a certain elevation - and much clover for the rabbits had been planted to deliberately overtake most of the dirt space in the giant pottages and garden beds. There are always weeds, I suppose, but these I took no notice of on this day for, when one is in the company of an Elemental, one tends to overlook the weeds.
     Jewel pointed out several species of garden snakes; my frogs; my two giant tortoises; my small lizards, all - my birthday presents from those humans who had, once or another made their ways to me as hybrids or EverTame or The Vague and had left as Thorning Purple, and every of these gifts lived happily with me in this place of solace.
     Even the Elementals tip-toed in talk, around my rabbits and my feral-to-them cats as they made their toilettes in the sand around the dry sauna room where the tortoises lived, for these also were as much a prisoner in this piece of heaven as I. And they knew it as well as I. But the freedom of the birds coming and going as ever they pleased, passing in and out during those moments that were gravitationally safe enough to open the windows, was a subject that was left out of any mention while in my presence. It was a strict taboo for it was a harm at times to know that my gifts and I would never leave this place again.
     Over the years, myrabbits had burrowed very elaborately and very extensively beneath the Conscious Green and in this way some of their numbers escaped from all but whichever of my feral-cats had learned their ways through the labyrinth mazes. If one looked closely enough, the ingresses and egresses of all of these, as well as the red-worm’s holes, could be found here and there throughout the entirety of the expansive greenhouse. I have always supposed that, if one listened closely enough, these could also be heard as they fed on the rabbit’s excrement and then excremented out - soil. But then, I had been accused of thinking too much. Many times.
     Anyone could hear the voices of one kind of predatory insect or other, as the birds and the reptiles were eating them. But, whatever small sound was taking place, as long as it was necessary for me to keep the Conscious Green’s existence from detection; to keep it bent and folded into its tiny, unbelievably heavy, pinpoint of time and space, there would be no leaving. Those eaters-of-anything-else – would live as I would live and then die, as I would die, by the rules within the expanses of the confines of this place I will ever call ‘home’.
     Jewel and I spoke of many things that day but mostly about the deep struggle within each Elemental to choose the side they would surround, for every Elemental is a Circle whose nature it is to gather and focus power. Elementals protect. And those that choose to Circle the Thorning Purple are the safeguards who keep my One, the King, and his Troth-Plight and most importantly, his Shuai-jan, at bay as his war upon us ripens. The Circle, Jewel, remains closed to all but the singular vibration that I have toned within her and my tone will never dissipate until she is time to open and it is at that time… such as time has become…she will direct this power to whatever place(s), person(s) or thing(s) are instructionally toned into her.
     I questioned her concerning the welfare and steadfastness of our Champion, my Hero-Judge and also of the progress of the courier I had sent to him with my letter of encouragement and also, the copy of that letter, which I had instructed him to hand to Aubergine. Jewel told me all as we walked through the door, off to one side of the dry sauna, which led us down into an underground and completely hardened, and very homey place.
     Upon first glance it looked more like a bomb shelter than the homey house it had come to be. The cement beneath the dirt floor was heated by coils that were embedded within the floors: an idea someone had incorporated upon visiting the truck-shop of a man who had lived, and then been consumed, in that different fold of time. And so our fee, which we had bared to walk the earthen paths of the pool house, were warm and dry. The whole of the Conscious Green was a comfort blanket that all were bundled up and safely wrapped in.
     The earth floor of the entrance room gave the false impression of a haphazard place that had been thrown together without thought. But stepping through the archway of that room was where the genius began. The whole of the floors, from that point on, was of Redstone of all shapes and polished to a matte finish. They were perfectly smooth. All about the floor, as though strewn in an offhand sort of way, were river rocks of every earthy color. And the hearth contrasted it all with black rocks that looked like glass. These uncut stones of ebony had been laid in a perfect half-circle in front of the fireplace.
     The single stone, jutting out from the others that made up the wall of the fireplace was emerald green with a silver, inlaid, hand-print, on the top and in the exact center of the odd-shaped thing.
     This began a soft humming sound as the Elemental drew nearer to it, and mesmerized by the soft invitation it offered, Jewel laid her hand upon it. The sound immediately changed into a song that was reminiscent of a lullaby I had known and long ago, forgotten. The silver of the print drew itself in to fit Jewel’s much smaller handprint, quite exactly. And immediately the logs in the fireplace burst into flames that warmed my heart and filled my soul with every taste I had ever imagined, and it filled those places inside of myself that had seemed so empty for all the folds of all of my Strongholds. Tearing my wondrous eyes away, I turned them toward the wonders of the rest of the room, which had become changed by the light of those flames.
     The sitting room was off the left and through another archway. Some of these archways were of a single tree each, which had grown into these imperfect shapes and brought in at some point in time. Elephant tusks of ivory made up the other places of entrance and egress to the expanses of the other rooms of the place.
The wall, which was the outer wall of the room, I supposed, was of paned glass. These large panes were two feet tall, by about eight inches across and they were leaded together into one window, which covered the entire wall. The outside of this window-wall was the greenhouse and pool and it gave me every sensitivity of being above ground once again. And so, I was weeping.
     The fires of the Elemental had turned the great draperies that hung and the cords that drew them open and closed, from the familiar things of my everyday life in the Conscious Green, to fabrics and pulls of silver cords. The drapes were become the golds, and the crimsons, and blues of deeper shades than I had ever before seen. The paisleys of the drapes had begun a slow, erotic, dance, which mesmerized me for just a moment. And when the Elemental motioned that I should pull at the silver draw-cords, other chords began to sound, like chords from heaven that I never wanted to stop. And it freshened the air with the smell of ozone as the fire snapped and popped from behind me in the other room.
     And I felt my spirit begin to revive within me.
     There were wicker chairs and a wicker couch and a wicker rocking chair in that room and although the patterns of the handcrafted furniture were of different thoughts apiece, the padded coverings matched each other and it was nothing less than lovely. Coneflower Blue backgrounds; the muted shades of the Sunflowers, yellow. And as each chord sang out, they came into full bloom before my eyes. There were low stools, also of wicker, and these had been covered with white rabbit skins.
     These contrasts against the soft Redstone of the floors beneath it all, raised within me the thought that I never wanted to leave that room, which before the fires began to sing, had seemed nothing more to me than a place to meet for the formalities of the Ranking Purple. But the chords of the fires had turned it into a room that was alive, and i was compelled me to stay there forever.
     It was with resting minds upon the couches and elevated feet upon the rabbit skins and with souls being nourished by the sounds of the fire, that the Elemental began. Her discourse was of those things now happening past, and of those things now happening to come, and of those things that, during the folds of the times and places that were much, much lighter in weight than the weight of Conscious Green, happened all about us as we spoke.

     As I opened my psyche within that Circle: the Elemental; Jewel, our thoughts became – not as one – but as two, swirling around and about each thought and emotion, each fear, each sorrow, and every joy that comes about upon the meeting of likeness of one’s own soul.
     Jewel had requested that one of the hybrids come before us as we reclined and read to us a sealed package, which he had retrieved from the still living skin of what he believed was a courier who was in the final stages of consumption. When he stood before us, no longer hybrid, but having gone Stone, he was now one of our Untriggered Rogue, who would wait until we nodded our permission to unseal, and then begin reading.
     My ears could hear only the silent wailing of my heart upon hearing my own written words, which the courier had failed to deliver both to the people and to Aubergine: “…Be subtle! … Sun Tzu”
     My eyes dared not blink loose my welling tears, for it is most unwise to allow Rogue, even those hybrids who were now Untriggerd, hence now our own, to experience the vibration of emotion of any kind.
     As he read aloud in that room, the magic of that most bedecked of halls wrestled with my own decorum, which I struggled to maintain.
     Our Untriggered Rogue, now friend, read aloud with a voice filled with only those practiced emotions:
"To Aubergine and my Dearlings all - The Thorning Purple:

I write today, from my heart, in truth as always, well guarded, within this fold of time that is called the Conscious Green, as I continue to recover from the wounds and injuries inflicted upon me, nearly a year ago, by the hand of my One; my Rogue-love, the King.

My healing is progressing very nicely. My physical strength returns and, because my mind has never been at risk, I fight in new ways by which I have the ability and the means of keeping steadfast. And from this place in my life I will show you, my people, how to overcome your One, as I have done, and thus: Rogue entire. And once they are overcome, and those Shuai-jan and those Troth-plight and those who the Thorning Purple refer to as the Loathsome Fringe – and all who envy us our success - are exterminated, we will be even more respected and the Purple entire will continue afterwards powerful, secure, honoured, and happy once again.

By many acts - Civil War has been declared upon us. Of a certainty, war is about us all. Ferocious murders, slavery, abuses, which are not even understood by those replicated beings themselves (which, in the common tongue are called, Rogue) thus no other mortal could ever hope to find their meaning. Hence their reasoning’s have become immaterial.

Until now, my friends, we were forced to war as passing shadows. Our Vague, the friends who we find in the most unlikely of places, war with us - from within the more secret digs, as fleeting as rumors.

This is a war of nerve. And so, once again my people I remind you, let us make sure our nerve is made strong by the deepest convictions of our hearts.


Today, I share with you all that which I have written, and sent by courier, to my Judge, who the Thorning Purple consider: our Hero; our strong protector; Champion of Armies.

“Your Honor,
You are my Hero and Champion of my army, because when you could have ignored my injuries, you raised your strong arm, you granted me the means by which I would disentangle myself from my One, a large male, even the King, whose intention was to disappear me back into his Darken once again...and I would not go.
One common and effective ruse of these (who in the common tongue are called Rogue), which I endeavor to expose to all at this time, is no more simple a thing than this: acts of humility and peace toward us once we have made our escape from them. Our warders then speak sweetly to us with their lips; feigning help; and thinking to benefit from you, Your Honors, by bringing a real tear to the eye in an unshakable performance of remorse for former abuses. Seeing through this, you give us the way of our escape from Darken. And for this, we love you with a perfect love.

The motive of my One, has instilled the same motive into his Rogue entire - to further enslave and do much harm by making our former returns to them a point of contention with you, my Judge, because is it not written, “Who pities a snake charmer when he is bitten, or anyone who goes near a wild beast?”

But you took pity on me, Sir, using much wisdom in not taking this common ruse into account when I brought this Rogue-love of mine before you: for as a Judge; you are absolutely fair and very hard and thus you have won my loyalty and respect and, as a man - you care; hence you are very often in my thoughts.

My Judge and Your Honors of the State, I am the mortal descendant of the first Wild Human; a woman formed of earth, as are all of the women and men of The Thorning Purple. We all are flesh, body and blood. We all breathe the kindred air.

Our hues of Purple arose because we all have nurtured an adversary with constant care, as though they were babes in swaddling, and yet they boldly fell us, and that; with much laughter.

For by the ways of their seductions; through the course of capitalizing on the many loopholes in the laws of the State; and by the means of continuance after tiresome continuance they wear Your Honors out. Using this deliberate methodology, they make certain that the sound of our wailing at their barbarous cruelty and at their infinite wickednesses, and at their inhumanity, has become no more than a common utterance in your ears; thus do Rogue become more bold; hence they laugh.

You, my Judge, and my rulers of the State are our far-seeing help and I speak for all of The Thorning Purple in giving you freely of our sincere gratitude and deep appreciation, for doing all that is possible for you to do for us. You judge our freedom from within the stench of entangling ground; searching out a needle hidden within a mountain of needles; where these Rogue’ and their Defense have laid many nets by which they ensnare.

My people and I recognize that your positions, Your Honors, require constant examination of yourselves in order that through you - good may triumph over evil. We recognize that you, also, search the depths of your own souls and find that, in the secret places of your centers, your own sorrows are the very same sorrows that we all share, alike. We have appreciation for what you find there; that you, yourselves, have had no different origin or birth than we, even would we have been born kings and, that in one same way is the entry into life for us all; and in that one same way, even a king - will leave it.

Most excellent women and men of the State; I lead my warriors to think of Your Honors with reverence because my Sovereign has seen fit to raise you up to a high station throughout the duration of this single slot of time you are given to live out; which energy we are each given to tremble-out from beginning to end; you fairly and sternly judge us all before you face your last end.

My Judge, I beg you to consider what I report to you now.

I come before you humbly and uninvited, bowing myself freely before your authority over me, and your authority over all of my Purple, whose insignia is a purple ribbon worn in the hair, or a thin braid of hair, dyed purple.

I respectfully speak on behalf of my army consisting of Wild Humans and Feral, of our many Elementals, and of all those gone Stone, in solicitation of your benevolence toward the EverTame: those slaves and prisoners we now rescue; those we remind of the strength that lies within them, so that they will draw on the courage it takes each one to stand, individually before you and before the strong arm of the State; these scattered, and these injured-become-poor, who we provide for from our own wherewithal.

I implore you to take most zealous offense when you are confronted with those whom the EverTame bring before you to judge; those Rogue who, while enjoying the many benefits of their slavery sorely abuse them - if for no other reason than this: because, whether you show these Rogue mercy from your benches and give them release; whether you give to them your most severe censure; or whether you punish them to the fullest extent of the law; I speak as the winter to Your Honors – there lives nothing within Rogue but to either curse you. They mock you and they laugh you to scorn to their Trothplight and to their Shuai-jan and to their Loathsome Fringe and to their captive Tame.

More especially do they laugh you into the faces of the EverTame; because EverTame are easily kept quiet and, at the same time, are anxious not to err in regards to their One, for fear that cruelties should be inflicted upon them again; or because they fear being laid low again when their naïveté of their own imminent danger is at its highest; or because they fear their own terror so greatly that the only way to escape it is to turn the mind away from it; thus, they are forced by their One to tell themselves lies and then to believe those lies from their encampments; and taking these lies into their secret hearts, which lead directly to their Inner Temples; then are they gone into Darken.

I beg you, in addition, for your leniency, for your clemency, for your easygoingness, when one of my people under my direction brings before you their One which has, beforehand, forced one of my people, under threat of further torture and of death itself, into having broken the laws of the State – believe me you, that when my people are forced by their One to commit acts of lawlessness they do so only in lieu of extreme torments. This is one of the shared methods of instilling antipathy of my people within you, Your Honor.

This method is the first torture inflicted by Rogue on the slave for the reason that - it is the simplest way to keep them. If One’s slave shall be forced in any way to be incriminated before you, my Judge, and thus; discredited before you Your Honors of the State; this Rogue can then keep human beings, bond and free, living in fear of you, because in this country, such is the way slaves are made. And none, thus silenced, suffers more for any of it than EverTame whom my One, the King, is thus empowered - by you - to keep.
By the use of these same Darken punishments - too often inflicted upon them - my Tame ones go Feral; thus do they flee to me and hence, we The Thorning Purple bring Rogue before you my Judge; by The One and The One and The One.

And so I implore you; when we bring such as these before you, who are cloaked as a replica of you; with the audacity of obvious lies; and with the lying witness; and with perjury in their heart; these Rogue who appear before you boldly, and with them their Defense of their violence - and their Defense of their lawlessness - and this: for no other reason than gaining the apathy of Your Honors of the State because that is all that is necessary for them to keep their slaves and prisoners…I, your Honor, Purple Van Winkle, a Fully Wild Human… I want you, instead, to    make    them    fear    you.

My Judge; the Champion which my army sets such great store by – I pray that from your very nature, you will become more and more well disposed towards us so that we may, once again, become the peaceable folk we would all like to be.

There is medicine for this malady, it has not become incurable; Rogue have merely made the sickness difficult to detect by the means of strong libretto: they make their crime universal so no one can see it by doing no more than turning their backs on those who oppose; then when confronted they ask us the question, “What’s wrong with your mind?” But now it happens that in this affair of the State this evil has now been seen (which it is only given to a wise man to see) and can be quickly redressed as you, my Judge, have so wisely redressed it my own case.

Because, one change is always the toothing for another I do not ask, necessarily, for lengthy incarceration, for the reason that, it would tax the State, which is already in recession. I do want you, my Judge, to be terrible in your onset, and prompt in your decision in lawfully exacting of them the maximum fines legally payable to the State. Moreover, I want you, my Judge, to grant my people full restitution any time and every time One is brought before you because of verifiable injury and/or ill treatment of your servants, the EverTame, who they have self-assuredly, enslaved.

I want you to impose sentences of minimal jail terms, Your Honor for this reason; because one commonality by which Rogue often escape more evenhanded verdicts, is their boast to you of their typical, excellent, work ethic; so let us, by imposing the least restrictive means, allow them to retain their employment and, by all means, to continue to acquire wealth. Thus it is plausible for them to continue on with uninterrupted, monthly payments to their victims and to the State for their injurious behaviors to both.

Your Honor…forage on their monies in both of these ways and you will be praised. You will not be blamed but rather, you will be ennobled; because in this way, since my One, the King, cannot be reasoned with, my Judge, you will lessen his ability to harm us and thus: you will enrich the State and by enriching the State, you cause it to happen that you are even more loved.

And as my army provides our own acquisitions, we consume no income from the State and thus, the State is not injured; our war will never turn into a loss, but the more will the state of my One, the King, and thus his kingdom entire, be brought back under your control.

My Judge, of a truth, my Warlike hues of Purple, I have not attained, nor are they altogether defined by necessary genius nor of fortune but rather by – my awakening out of Darken into a happy shrewdness. I war against all Rogue with a shrewdness as that of a ship traversing the heaving waters of the sea, but there shall be no path of my keel in the ocean waves; I war with the shrewdness of a stream that abruptly overflows behind me after I pass so that no trace can be found; as that of a bird flying through the air; no evidence of my course is to be found but the fluid air, lashed by the beat of my pinions, and cleft by the rushing force of my speeding wings, is traversed.

In this same happy shrewdness do my Sylphs, the living clouds, go forth before me to confront and consume these Rogue by their own lusts and then; as a tempest at my rear they winnow them out entire and afterward, no mark of my passage is ever found.

My Judge, be my weapon also. Determine within yourself to be to my soldiery as an arrow from a well-drawn bow and as from a sling; well aimed, shot at and leaping to the mark. I want you to draw such wrath down upon Rogue; as a millstone you hurl about their neck after which - the parted air straightway will flow together again so that none discerns the way you, Your Honor, allow my people, my EverTame first, to have escaped through.

Because: by the means of violence they overturn your benches and your bars and the laws of our State; the whole universe wars against them. The universe fights on behalf of the just! Creation, serving her maker, grows tense for punishment against the deceptive and against those who lie in wait, plotting harm.

High Wisdom is the kindly spirit that all of The Thorning Purple serve. We serve Her as prudent slaves and the wise man does not complain. Her universe is relaxed in benefit for the slaves we seek to rescue and toward the Purple who war against these Rogue. And because every Rogue is an ingrate who has no hope - my Sovereign laughs them to scorn. And we will watch as their hope turns to thistledown and is borne away on the wind.

Hence the times dictate I should come now, bowed before you, albeit uninvited, with this request: Now that you are hearing what is happening to my people, I entreat you: become an amazement to the Rogue! Stifle their laughter! Cause them to be overcome with fear and trembling when my people, downtrodden, bring them before you! Scatter them in all directions so that they flee along every road, both through the valley and in the mountains; those also who are stationed in the districts around our encampments – put them to flight and give us back the power to overwhelm them and hence, make an escape so that we are then free to simply ignore them as we wish to do!

You do have this authority.

I lead my army to choose to believe that good still triumphs over evil. An army should believe this. This is a thing worth believing in. You are my Hero and the Champion of my army. And we choose to believe that you, my Judge, are still worth believing in.

I am Purple Van Winkle and I am a Wild Human. On behalf of my Sovereign, I say:
To the Garrison: Give safe passage.
To the Slaves and Prisoners: Flee! And do not, for any reason, go back!
To our friends, the Vague: One time more I ask you to Conceal them.
To my Judge and to the State: I await your return.
To my army, The Thorning Purple entire: Hold.
To all: In War: Resolution.
In Defeat: Defiance.
In Victory: Magnanimity.
In Peace: Good Will.”

And as the hybrid gone Stone handed me the urn, which contained the dust of my courier...   
                                                        I grieved.
....to be continued....