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I will have to transmit this information very quickly. there are those who do not want me to share these things. they do not believe you (modern humans) are worthy of such knowledge. this is Zebulon. I know I have told you many things about my beginnings. some of them are true (after a fashion). while others were merely burlesques, grotesque manipulations of the truth. But now I speak in a clear voice. this time my words are wrought in gold.
Oh., how I long for those days. May father was a hereditary priest in the Temple of Solomon, a prince bishop, as it were, arrayed in the white and silver robes of a high cleric. He sat in The Great Sanhedrin, part of a noble senate devoted to God and charged with maintaining Earthly purity. Was he First Priest to Zion ?(what many erroneously call the High Priest) No, he was not. Think of him as a cardinal. Indeed, the very structure of the Trinitarian Vatican is based on our beginnings.
A spoiled child, I was. Raised in a palace. Schooled in The Scriptures by the Prophets themselves. And when the time came for my father to be Gathered to Our Fathers and take his place under the Saphire Throne, I would ascend to his chair, joining that blessed assembly.
Privy to miracles he was. Confidant to the angels and earthly manifestation of The Heavenly Host. Yet I wandered the byways of David's City, an urchin among urchins, taking my fun from simple things. Stealing a peach. Upsetting a spice cart. Tickling the ear of a blind man. But I heard thinngs and I saw things. Mundane things and secret things. Some of them torment me to this very day. For I walked with the Night Folk and drank soup from witches cook pots. I saw them. I did. They were there. They fed on us and laughed at Divine Writ. Beings from afar. Assyrians, I suppose. Or at least they were Assyrians when they were alive. But they were not alive. They were something else.
They offered me blood. I wanted it. I needed it. They tempted me. Skill in games? It would be mine. A winning smile? Of course. Strength? Speed? Without a doubt. Drink it - they said. Taste it. Let it trickle down......And I did, durinng the sixteenth night of my fourteenth year. Already a knowing soul in the eyes of God, for I had been Consecrated in the Faith fifteen days before.
It happened that a servant from our household saw me. He ran home to tell the tale......Well, what manner of truth can I tell you? I pay for my transgression to this very night. Jonathon is my charge. He must succeed. And the world must grow to be a better place
Now do not think that all vampires are evil. They are not. If you are a regular follower of our tale you know this. But I was not meant to travel their road. So I travel it yet, in a ghostly form to this day... Some may have read these words before, while others have not. That's just how it is. And if you'd like me to recount the torment of my death, leave a message (comment)... To everything there is a season. And a time for every purpose under Heaven... Adieu, my best beloveds.......OH! and one more thing. If you'd like to feel my presence (spirit) lay your fingers upon the keys (lightly, please) close your eyes and dream......
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Oh., how I long for those days. May father was a hereditary priest in the Temple of Solomon, a prince bishop, as it were, arrayed in the white and silver robes of a high cleric. He sat in The Great Sanhedrin, part of a noble senate devoted to God and charged with maintaining Earthly purity. Was he First Priest to Zion ?(what many erroneously call the High Priest) No, he was not. Think of him as a cardinal. Indeed, the very structure of the Trinitarian Vatican is based on our beginnings.
A spoiled child, I was. Raised in a palace. Schooled in The Scriptures by the Prophets themselves. And when the time came for my father to be Gathered to Our Fathers and take his place under the Saphire Throne, I would ascend to his chair, joining that blessed assembly.
Privy to miracles he was. Confidant to the angels and earthly manifestation of The Heavenly Host. Yet I wandered the byways of David's City, an urchin among urchins, taking my fun from simple things. Stealing a peach. Upsetting a spice cart. Tickling the ear of a blind man. But I heard thinngs and I saw things. Mundane things and secret things. Some of them torment me to this very day. For I walked with the Night Folk and drank soup from witches cook pots. I saw them. I did. They were there. They fed on us and laughed at Divine Writ. Beings from afar. Assyrians, I suppose. Or at least they were Assyrians when they were alive. But they were not alive. They were something else.
They offered me blood. I wanted it. I needed it. They tempted me. Skill in games? It would be mine. A winning smile? Of course. Strength? Speed? Without a doubt. Drink it - they said. Taste it. Let it trickle down......And I did, durinng the sixteenth night of my fourteenth year. Already a knowing soul in the eyes of God, for I had been Consecrated in the Faith fifteen days before.
It happened that a servant from our household saw me. He ran home to tell the tale......Well, what manner of truth can I tell you? I pay for my transgression to this very night. Jonathon is my charge. He must succeed. And the world must grow to be a better place
Now do not think that all vampires are evil. They are not. If you are a regular follower of our tale you know this. But I was not meant to travel their road. So I travel it yet, in a ghostly form to this day... Some may have read these words before, while others have not. That's just how it is. And if you'd like me to recount the torment of my death, leave a message (comment)... To everything there is a season. And a time for every purpose under Heaven... Adieu, my best beloveds.......OH! and one more thing. If you'd like to feel my presence (spirit) lay your fingers upon the keys (lightly, please) close your eyes and dream......
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
please engage the SHARE button. Help the story live. record your own words. leave a COMMENT. tell us your link.
