Artemesia Family/Jared/Descent

The Descent of Jared

The White Maiden

Katsuyori did say to let them come. And so they came and Jared was cast into the dust. When his eyes opened once more he did see truly. Thus ever was his spirit inclined to heroism. Then came the clamor and the parades. His time was silent but the land was mighty. Thus was Fontan in its glory. Such things would see that the legacy of the north would not die by Jared's time. Another Fontanese found a book, aged but immaculately white. So was said that it was the White Book of Awakening. For two score gold he did give it to Jared, who read it though how he read such a foreign tongue he could not explain.

The mantras of the book opened his being. He saw in the opened eyes while asleep the dreams of the goddess. In diaphanous white she glided about him, and she helped him, eased him, and such was her comfort that Jared accepted his reluctant path of heroism.

"You are Jared, a son of the blood of those who were also called Jared." She said to him. "You are not the first, and you are not the last, to find me."

And Jared cried in his silent dream, "Who are you!"

She said, "I have no name except that which you call me. For I am your truth; I am that which surrounds you and protects you."

But Jared could not understand. The natural white light emanating from the white lady blinded Jared's closed eyes. And he fell to his knees upon the bottomless ground, knowing not what to say, but feeling nothing to be said.

She smiled a smile Jared could not see, and touched his back with a phantom hand without substance, that warmed Jared's heart to calm his being. When he looked up he saw a beautiful woman completely white, whose skin and hair and eyes were unnaturally white. And all around was a void of white, a field interrupted by Jared's being of color.

"In this world of emptiness we color our worlds," Said the woman, "So let the colors converge and so there will be the white light. You have slept in the darkness for a long time, Jared. Nor have you been the first, though your time is near. Wake, Jared, and see the world of colors form a bright immaculate world of truth."

Thus Jared awoke, into darkness and cold. Nothing was seen, no sign of a woman was near. Seeing nothing, Jared slept.

Clean and orderly is the White Maiden's light. It soothes and calms and enlightens. Ever would it be that my blood is tied To this White Maiden, my Truth and my Heart.

The Bloodstained Hero

Then weeks later a traveler found and thus he gave to Jared again. It was a pitch-black mace of cold metal, set with three star-shaped rubies around its head, and a pulsing feel along its body.

In pain Jared's mind withdrew, and in his torture he heard the voice.

"Jared Artemesia, you are not the first, not even the first of your blood to wield my might. You are not the last, not even the last of your blood, not even the last of your blood to wield my might. For I am the one who brings forth the lights that quell the darkness. In the west will be your fate, just like your forefather's. Such is your contract, Jared, that you complete the descent of your line. Forever you shall live; neither sword nor arrow nor poison nor flame shall fell you, not even if you cast my weapon across the world. So long as you shed blood, never will you find peace." Said the mace.

Jared screamed in pain but he could say, "I shall not leave this land! I will be a hero to the people! You will not conquer me!"

"I am the Prince, the one who will guide you and protect you. The descendant to the mace shall be my instrument for the spread of blood. Blood gives life, blood gives sustenance. Let your fury shine forth to consume your spirit. Let your being resonate with the blood-red star. Fury, rage, and all the bloodlust hidden within shall be your life. You wield the Sacred Mace of Blood. You shall become my prophet in the world of men. Bring forth the knowledge of the blood stars!"

"No," Said Jared. "I will not be your prophet of death."

"Then I shall choose another," said the Prince, "But you shall still be my weapon upon this world. Much blood will be spilled by your hands, and much of your own blood will spill. Never will you ever die, and such is your blessing; such is your curse."

And so the madness gripped the silent hero, and all through his time in Fontan he wordlessly killed without remorse or second thought. Always he was taken by one brightly shining red star.

It brings forth the demon within me. In the land of the setting sun, where my ancestor left Are those three lights though only one pushes me. When can I ever find peace when death is to me so denied?