thesmellypocket 1841 Share Posted February 15 [RP Post to explain my absence in game for a couple of months.] Silence. Darkness. Cold. It had for Offa become more lovely than the sweetest melody, surer than the noonday sun, warmer than the Dwarven forge. He sat within the narrow confines of his cell, but it was not a monastic cell as he had perhaps dreamed of months earlier. Nor was he clothed in a monastic habit or the cassock he had hitherto worn, but it rags. For it was a prison cell. He was travelling through the midst of the darkest of nights, and found the night more lovely than the dawn, because it was the night, when the senses and affections were quieted, when the noise and tumult and glory of this world, the tide of pomp that beats upon the high shore of Aevos, could be seen in all its fraud and folly and appeared truly as it was: nothing but vanity and a lie, yes, then, then and only then, when only the light that burned in his heart guided him, could the Divine love, the Divine wisdom and the Divine knowledge, inasmuch as it were possible in this life, could make itself known. Ah - the sheer grace! He was not disillusioned by the evils that had come to him upon his return to his distant country. On the contrary, he realised the profoundest truth yet: not only did his Beloved remain with him in the darkness, but it was chiefly and most excellently in the darkness that the Beloved revealed himself. But he knew, in the deepest recess of his heart, that he must escape and return to Aevos and complete his priestly training. But not yet. Oh noche que me guiaste! ¡oh noche amable mas que el aluorada!, ¡oh noche que juntaste amado con amada, amada en el amado transformada! https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dark_Night_of_the_Soul Inspired by this poem by St John of the Cross 4 Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
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