Dead Tracks 11

version x7


They feigned surprise, as if for protocol, yet none who knew the initiated, not yet twenty years of age, doubted of his gifts.


He wandered the halls and cloisters. His intellect never still, his keenness for the corpus undiminished; to not notice his acumen and zeal required self-misdirection. aaabbbcccHe rarely asked, he gave profusely, and in the shadows of the ones who came before, he grew, surely bound for a surpass. He was serene, not once perturbed, not once enraged, never impatient, never idle.


That he would, was not in question, but the moment produced upset. Joyous upset it was, as the dwellers of the lucum could not think of one more worthy, and with what grace! To ascend thusly, granted aid by the hand from beyond. He led with even mind and fair judgment, reined in his tempers, curbed his will: and instead tended to render growth, seeding the soils of knowledge and honor with sacrifice of his self.


Visitors passed. Whereof they spoke, the detail is lost, but by one, customs contrary were proposed. Swift was he to reject, and order was kept. He knew unwisdom and folly, but words had been spread. The prospect promises made all defence vain, and subversion prevailed. To await him, was a twilight in the mud. Just as a well grown forest makes for a fierier conflagration, so was the fruit of his wisdom and work juicier for the rot to consume.