The Rebirth of Melchior Dronte: The Immortality of the Soul by Paul Busson & Joe E Bandel

Author:Paul Busson & Joe E Bandel [Busson, Paul & Bandel, Joe E]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Bandel Books Online
Published: 2023-09-22T23:00:00+00:00

"If you have patience in pain,

It will be very useful to you,

Therefore give yourself willingly to it."

The unknown painter had understood it, and painted into the faces of the accompanying persons, secretly and immediately recognizable to everyone, stupidly proud dignity, thoughtlessness, malice, cruelty, indifference, and cowardly contentment; but from the face of the man on the execution cart cried out fear, and the staring look was almost a longing for the final redemption by the redcoat, who stood tiny and distant on the scaffolding.

This image made me fall into a depth of consciousness or foreboding, which filled me with fearful darkness for several minutes. It told me that something had happened or was about to happen, and from my soul a voice spoke barely audibly:

"I know ---."

The roots of my hair were on fire, drops of sweat covered the inside surface of my hands. But what it was, I could no longer grasp with my mind, for as quickly as it came, it sank again into a dark abyss. I turned my gaze from the terrible image, ducked under the threatening sword arm, so as not to touch it, and lifted the light towards the other painting.

A fine and cutting stab went through my heart. This face, blissful and childlike, with reddish shimmering braids under a small hood, with the delicate nose and the small mouth, with the curved eyebrows, it was...

"Aglaja," I whispered softly, and the heavy candlestick almost fell from my hand.

But then it seemed to me as if a sad, dark glow went over the lovely face. No, not Aglaja! It was Zephyrine who was looking at me, as if she were breathing. The slender hand, coming from a lace ruff, wore a silver ring of woven serpentine bodies with a fire opal and held daintily between pointer finger and thumb were three crimson roses and a snowy lily. But what was written underneath, confused me in the face, which always showed a beloved face. I ran my hand over my eyes and read the characters under the painting:

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