Ramblings of an old man

I'm just so tired. So bloody flipping tired. Hey girl, if you don't like me, too bad then. I'm tired of waiting. Tired of being played. So I'm just out of it. I've got other things to do anyway.

Yeah mate, so thats that. Almost immediately, it all came back to me. I spoke my words to the wind and with it, I breathed my first magic after at least 2 months. It was amazing I tell ya. The train came rushing in, with the spirits billowing around it. I whispered gently into their ears, "whichitka" the old word I learnt when i first began my journey. my burden was alleviated and my soul set free. her magic broken. shackles of ramification.

Taken from the Chronicles of the Magi:-
Closing my eyes, I felt my spirit move. When I opened it, I was surrounded by the fiery swirling dusts of Egypt. The last land that they visited before they left. I stood motionless in the wake of a sandstorm three days in the making. As it passed, I saw a small fire in a nearby dune. It wasn't a dune at all as I found out.

An old old man was sitting inside. Eli. I knew him from sometime before. Not in this birth probably but he knew me well enough.

"Seth, come in, sit down you old fool," he jested

Puzzled as I was at this cryptic remark, I sat down, placing this book to my right side.

"You are troubled again Seth?," he chuckled at his own joke ,"You always had a knack for finding problems. I suppose thats why you were the Capturer of Thoughts and I always will be the Still Mind"

Ignoring his blabbering, I replied to what made sense, "Yes Eli...I am troubled again I suppose. Fear and doubt plague my soul at every breath"

"Go on, I will listen and give you what aide and council I can proffer at this age"

Seth's story:
Eli...I fear myself. I stay awake at night and I am scared. Will I ever be loved? All my relationships thus far have been failures. I blame my parents but truly...I know that only I am to be blamed. I am the fool of fools. I think I am smart but I know in my heart that I am the stupidest and most ignorant. I dream and conjure these girls from the shallowness of my mind. Girls that I expect to give unto me what I want.

What do I want? I want a girl that loves me exclusively. Is devoted to me. We share our own secret world. Our hearts entwined as one. All of that nonsense that you see scribbled onto the love potions in common bazaars. But in truth old friend, what I crave more than anything is not to be lonely. Forsooth, I am. I am so open and so empty in my heart that when a girl chooses to share her heart with me, I envelope it, smother it, assimilate it, eat it and swallow it. Such is my desire. Such is my bane. My curse. I want to wake up at night and feel her body next to mine. I want to remember that I am not alone. Someone I can feel so comfortable with. Sometimes, I can even feel her breath within mine...then I remember that it is only my breath that I feel and I am alone again.

But friend, oh old friend, I give up. All of this anticipation and disappointment is too much for my weak heart to take. I can stand to see cities burn, see wars fought, see children die, but irony of ironies, I cannot stand to see myself bear hurt. So I give it up. May life and God do with me what they see fit. If I am bound to suffer solitude for this lifetime, then so be it. If by their providence, I am blessed otherwise, so be it too. Yet, I warn those who would challenge my will. Belail, Aszataroth, Kmegmion. Foul spirits of the underdeep. You blaise my fears and fuel my jealousy and ill-mentioned passions. You who would dare desecrate what is pure. You who take what is not yours. You whose name is war, strife, pain, fear, doubt and evil. A curse upon thee! May He in his mercy bless me.