Once Upon a Time in a Timeless State of Mind Behold and Make Way for the Noble and Conquering King Parzival. Within his own travels, he passes by a Soothsayer named Sigune.

Sigune: Woe to you, King Parzival.

King Parzival: Woe to I, Sigune? Hath you lost your eye?

Sigune: Hath you lost your own? Woe to you, King Parzival. Beware the Ides, King Parzival.

The Ghost of Gaius.

Parzival: The Ides, you spew? For this date is a Revelry! Jousting and games and cheers and jokers, all for just jolly joy and sunny shining smiles. Hearken hither to I, King Parzival, Sigune – this be the day where the 2 Kingdoms of 2 Kings make union together and shovel off their asides for the sacrifice of Unio Mystica, the Mystical Union of Opposites. It is the reign of the Golden Sun and the golden horns of Triumph that befall on this day, the Ides. God shield you, Sigune.

Sigune: God shield you, King Parzival.

Parzival enters into The Great Hall of The Castle, where Queen Condwiramurs greets him with a sigh and an embrace.

Condwiramurs: Oh, my King Parzival, I had the most impure delusion of you in my wandering dream last evening.

Parzival: What is the noise, my Queen?

Condwiramurs: Not a noise but a landscape! Screaming fires possessed your background, my King. And you sit beneath a tree that is burning, in the lotus flower way. But your countenance! Oh, you sat there with a stern grin. And your eye, the one to my East side and yours be it West, hath been made bloody red by some sort of Magick, whilst the blackened shape of an inverted pentagram hath shown to lay blanketed over that reddened West eye.

Parzival: This is all, my precious Condwiramurs?

Condwiramurs: All! Nay, this be no good, Parzival. We have the Revelry with King Underworld here on the Ides, and I doth not whole heartily trust that he hath a completion of loyalty in his heart. I am wise to the fact that it is all just joy and jolly, but the sparring joust that is played for sport between he and you in the final depths of the day – there is a cringing within my psyche that he hath already chosen in his empty chest to play you not fair.

Parzival: Condwiramurs, my undying love for you ranges across many oceans, lands and skies; and perhaps even to the moons of far-many other galaxies; and assuredly to the stars and back. For you well know that wooden lances will be used for the sporting spar. These lances of wood are not manifested and made to destroy ourselves, but only to splinter and destroy its own self – for the sake of us. Behold, this is the sacrificial day for Unio Mystica, so let us revel. Besides… I could destroy him in a joust with two hands shackled and enslaved behind my back – so there is no need to be worrisome, my Queen.

THE JOUST.

Behold, an Arena; filled to the cusp with The Republic of 2 Kingdoms and 2 Kings. King Parzival and King Underworld stand at opposing ends of the crux nigh their horses, battle armor ready. They mount their horses and are handed their lances by their Queens.

Condwiramurs: Fair-well, my Parzival.

Parzival: Look to the Rising Sun; for I am already setting.

Lance’s up, they charge.

Arena: CHARGE!!!

DRAW: with splintering lances to duo chests!

LO: A splinter from King Underworld’s lance has found its way to King Parzival’s left eye.

HEARKEN: On that tip of that lance that King Underworld hath beheld – t’was dipped in Lucifer’s red blood.

Parzival slips into a coma, and then slips off of the horse.

Condwiramurs: Parzival!

Let us dive into the mind of poor Parzival, and eye out what he eyes inside.

Parzival: Where am I? I am inside of a cave or I am darkness? I am lost or I am death? For, do I sit or do I float? Oh Lord. Condwiramurs.

Within the darkness, a light from afar floats nigh to He.

Parzival: Why, I have never espied and captured the eye’s sight of such a sight-filled mystery as the one that lie nigh before my spying eye present. It is saving grace or a devil’s messenger?

See now what the mystery beholds: A tiny black vampire bat named Gospel flutters through the darkness with a large lit lantern hooked to the claws of her toes.

Gospel: Well, come-on now, Parzival, we haven’t possession of all of the day. Though Time doth flow always into eternity, it nevertheless doth move in forever’a’fashion.

Parzival: Then allow us to move into forever, forever. What is my guides name, and where doth you escape me to?

Gospel: I am Gospel. Do you know where you are?

Parzival: For I believe that I am lifeless in The World, yet I doth in fact know that I am here. Where? I hath not a thought. But here is where I always am; & so it is true that One whilst forever remain “Here”. Why doeth the devil steal me away from my love? It was not my Time to depart.

Gospel: Follow me if you want to live.

Gospel flutters with her large lit lantern through the darkness, while Parzival treads lightly on his feet on her tail.

Parzival: Where do you escape me to, Gospel?

Gospel: Escape? Nay. You are captured.

Parzival: A captive? What hath I done to show weakness, Gospel? I am a King who hath conquered with the nobility of strength and the strength of nobility. I am a King who hath conquered with the heart of red blood and the red blood of the heart. I am a King who hath conquered with the Justice of God and the God of Justice – for I doth even wear the Libras on my red shield! I am a King who hath conquered righteously, Gospel. So where am I blind?

Gospel: You hath abandoned Nature, and so Nature hath abandoned you.

Parzival: I am shed off of, like a serpent, and eaten by the World.

BEHOLD:

The cave of darkness that Parzival & Gospel have been treading inside of has a mouth. The mouth shuts and the wind blows and Parzival & Gospel are spit out into a wilderness, where a high mountain stands.

Parzival: Eaten and vomited-up by the World! Gospel, what is this beatific mountain that lie before we?

Gospel: Behold, King Parzival, Mount Olympus.

Parzival: Lo.

Gospel: You are eager to live, King Parzival?

Parzival: If there is a chance to breathe once more, let me fill my lungs with the Spirit; and my heart with the Rising Sun.

Gospel: Follow me if you want to live.

Gospel flutters, while Parzival treads lightly on his feet on her tail. They approach the base of Mount Olympus where a swamp resides, and a Crocodile named Crown with a crown on his head relaxes on his belly half inside of the water and half dry. 

Crown: Wanderer, I espy that you have the Gospel.

Gospel: Hello, Crown.

Crown: Lovely to feel your light again, Gospel. Wanderer, Parzival. Do you see that I see all? For I knew who you were at this moment, and I hath known all along that you were making way. For I present for you and your apotheosis 2 paths before you: The Rising Sun resideth over tither, and the dampened swamp I resideth within hither. Be wise in your mind making, Parzival. Let us not fail twain times in twain experiences in twain worlds.

Parzival: Look to the Rising Sun; for I am already setting.

Parzival begins his journey on the path of the Rising Sun, when the ghost of the soothsayer Sigune manifests before him.

Sigune: Woe to you, King Parzival.

Parzival: Sigune? What doeth your tongue toucheth on?

Sigune: Woe to you, King Parzival.

Parzival: Sigune is nay hither, Gospel?

Gospel: Heed, Parzival.

Parzival: Perhaps this is not the correct way. Perhaps the swamp will sacrificially suffice.

Parzival spins and retreats back to Crown at the swamp.

Parzival: I have returned backwards to make way into the dampness – into the smog. Perhaps the Rising Sun will come of a later date.

Crown: On my spine of scales we go, Parzival.

In the way of the Lotus Flower – Parzival sits on Crown’s spine of scales.

Parzival: Stay nigh, Gospel. I doth not want you to be lost.

Gospel: Ah, okay then. For once in a Time, let us allow the blind to follow the blind.

Parzival rides while Crown treads while Gospel flutters lightly on his Crocodile tail. They advance to the finish of the swamp.

Crown: The End of The Beginning.

Parzival dismounts Crown’s spine of scales, and a Snow Leopard named Red appears from a snow storm with a fabric of red velvet cloaked around her neck.

Red: Thank You, Crown. You have done your duty. Do depart, as I will set the seeker, Parzival, onward and up.

Crown tips his crown and sinks into the swamp.

Red: Seeker, I espy that you have the Gospel.

Gospel: Hello, Red.

Red: Lovely to feel your light again, Gospel. Seeker, Parzival. Do you see that I see all? For I knew who you were at this moment, and I hath known all along that you were making way. For I present for you and your apotheosis 2 paths before you: The Rising Sun resideth over tither, and the icy Hail Storm resideth nigh over hither. Be wise in your mind making, Parzival. Let us not fail twain times in twain experiences in twain worlds.

Parzival: Look to the Rising Sun; for I am already setting.

Parzival begins his journey on the path of the Rising Sun, when the ghost of Condwiramurs manifests before him.

Parzival: My love, Condwiramurs?

Condwiramurs goes to embrace Parzival, but travels through him, and stands talking behind him at a tree.

Condwiramurs: Oh, my King Parzival! I had the most impure delusion of –

Parzival: — I in your wandering dream last evening…

Condwiramurs: Oh, my King Parzival! I had the most impure delusion of you in my wandering dream last evening.

Parzival: Condwiramurs is nay here, Gospel?

Gospel: Heed, King Parzival.

Parzival: Perhaps this is not the correct way. Perhaps the Storm will sacrificially suffice.

Parzival spins and retreats back to Red.

Parzival: I have returned backwards to make way into the Storm – into the Hail. Let the ice befallen me, so that I may melt it off at the Rising Sun whence we arrive.

Red: On my spotted spine we go, Parzival.

Parzival mounts Red’s spotted spine.

Red: Claw the red velvet.

Parzival claws, and Red darts through the Hail Storm! She ducks and dodges and leaps and sprawls and pounces and crawls – for not 1 single ball of ice strikes her nor the riding Parzival, nor the vampire bat named Gospel. They advance to an Ice Castle. 

Red: The Beginning of The End.

Parzival dismounts Red, and a white Dove named Halo who wears a halo flies nigh to He.

Halo: King Parzival, Welcome. It is a noble thing to eye a King who has decided to take the moving heart of Nature and implant it within his own beating breast. For these 2 hearts are 1 from the genesis of each soul’s birth, because it is the Womb of the World you have arrived from, and so it is the Heart of Hers that is Yours – that one must heed. For I am afraid that inside of The World, you hath fallen into the trap of the Emperor: Gaius Julius Caesar. For Nature hath never done you wrong in your natural heart, and so you hath felt your head to be armor protected – but Nay, you hath become so numb of your triumph that you hath forgotten the role of the Outside Source, which is as well the Source of All. But, Lo. You are noble enough to make way. Behold, at the peak of this Ice Castle is the Rising Sun, so let us travel the path you hath yearned for all along.

At this mystical moment of union, the Black bat claws the left shoulder of Parzival, and the White dove claws the right – and up, and up, and up – they fly.

BEHOLD:

On the point of the Ice Castle’s steeple sits a golden chalice with the words “Saint Graal” engraved onto it. The Holy Grail fills and overflows with water, eternally – always being full, whilst nay ever stopping the flow of fulfillment. Above Saint Graal, rests the Risen Sun.

Parzival: Alas…

Halo: The Saint Graal of God’s Joyous Tears.

Gospel: The antidote to Lucifer’s Blood.

Parzival: The End.

Gospel & Halo flutter Parzival up and over to the Divine Chalice of God’s Joyous Tears, and Parzival takes sip of the Divine Waters. He looks to the Rising Sun with a stern grin and closes his eyes.

Within The World, within the Castle Arena, Parzival slips back into consciousness. 

Condwiramurs: Parzival? Parzival! Are you waking?

Parzival: (stands) I am setting like the Rising Sun, my sweet Condwiramurs. Wherefore art thou King Underworld?

King Underworld: Aha! I am here, King Parzival. What are you likely to do of it?

A stern grin slips its way onto Parzival’s countenance, and Parzival embraces King Underworld in his hugging arms.

King Underworld: Well! Merry Mystical Union, Parzival.

Parzival loosens his embrace, and now hearken hither to what Parzival pursues: with his wetted lips of the Divine Waters of the Saint Graal, he pays King Underworld a kiss to his West eye.

Parzival: Unio Mystica.

King Underworld faints, and falls into the Light.

Gospel: Follow me if you want to live.

Abracadabra.

 

 

COPY @ 2019 JACK O’LANTERN