Book 4 July 7 1984 to November 8 1984

8407.26

"Sire, are you ready for the parade?"
"No!" I said. I pulled insisently on my left glove, it had to be tight.
"Wait, Who are you?" I asked the adolesent who adressed me.
"Your new page, Sire." said the youth.
"Hmph." I said. I pulled the velcro latch as tight as it would go and made a fist then opened my hand. Over and over again.
"Are you a boy or a girl, page?" I asked as I noticed the short glisening blonde hair and the smooth features. The loose clothes over the under-developed body didn't help either.
"I don't know." was the only reply.
Obvioulsy, I thought as I ajusted my cloak and fastented its chain about my neck, this was choosen by my ever alert Advisor.

My feet squirmed in my black leather boots. My crown buzzed about furiously. I fastened my leather coat and unbottoned my white fluffy shirt. I rubbed the sweat from my hands on my pant legs. My right hand could feel the coarse matterial of my black pants, my left felt only glove. I stood up straight breathed in deep and grabed my cape and squirmed under its wieght.
I closed my eyes. I breath in deep and clear my mind. I am abruptly brought out of this calm by a sting on my eyelid. The fly then crawls out from under the dark lens and begins his flight about my head.
"Damn." I said under my breath. "Lead me out, page."
I was led out into the streets and there I walked about my subjects. Rocks and Roses, Garbage and Garlands were thrown at my feet and head. Roses and Rocks, Garbage and Garlands.
Soon it began to rain, acid rain. Subjects rain home, shelter there objective. The purpel rain burned my skin leaving blisters and welts.
"Sire! Sire! Come out of the rain!" pleaded my new page. I simply said, No.

"I must finish what I start."
The rain poured down in sheets now and my page ran for cover. Can't blame him, in fact I would have ordered her to do so in another second.
I hated every step I took, but I finished that parade. And I burned for it. Then I cursed for not one fly in that wreath above my head died in that storm.

8407.27

RAMO, EDDIE WILSON, O'BRIAN, HOWERITZ, THE . KID (PRINCE)

The torchered souls of artist, there emotions run to deep.
Hell is for children, Artist live it a hundred times, period.

8407.28

I sit in my throne, secure. My left hand stroked my chin in thought. The fingers felt something, whiskers.
"Hhm, I need a shave." I said to the empty chamber. Shifted my wieght in the thrown and continued to think.
Off in the background One September Monday.

8407.29

Great Grandmother was 9Ø years old today. The Court celabrated. Shee doesn't see so well, hear so well, move so well but shee is wise. And she has successfully lived 9 times longer then I have.
"Oh, is that a halo about your head?" she asked in feeble voice as she looked up to me. What do you say? Tell her the truth and shatter her illusions. Tell a lie and further her dwindeling sinelity.
"Yes Great Grandma, but its made of flies."
"Oh," she grunted and looked at me again. "Sure is pretty. Sure they aren't butterflys?" she asked.
"Not butterflys," I said smileing, "Not yet anyway." I knelt before her and gave her a hug.
When I rose I looked at my Grandmother and smiled. Then I looked at my Great Aunt and her husband and My Great Uncel and his sons. Why were they drunk?
Grandpa, why weren't you there? I wish you were around. With a court Mage, like Merlin, perhaps I'd have a better chance in my battles with the traitors within.
Chinese say this is the year of the rat. I think thats probibly right.

8407.30

There was back-tracking One September Monday as I listened to the Beohemian Rapsody in the void. As my mind was emersed in the audio stimuli there came the shaper image. The wreath of flies buzzed low over my brow and the scarlet cloak was straped on over the right shoulder, under the left. Fully scathed in black and with new polished boots I turned to that image.
"Who are you?" It asked of me.
I faced another king. He wore a Sepant and a vulture upon his brow. He appeared young, yet aged beyond his years. His skin was brown and his sandels full of sand. I felt a kindred spirit with this man.
"I am a King." I stated. "My name is Killgrave."
"Well," he said in exasperation. "I am a greater King, I'm even a God. You must leave this place now. It's mine."
The void whispered in my ear, Relax. So I stood and tugged at my cape. I faced this new king and stared him with hate in my eyes.
"We will talk later." I then took my leave of the void, and returned to my court.
As I walked into my court, Logan stood at the Gate.
"Who goes there!" he yelled with all his vigor,
"Tis I, your King." I said and continued . to walk forward. Suddenly his glemming pure white saber sliced down infront of me.
"Logan!!!" my total and full wraith came down verbally in that one moment. Logan dropped the end of his sword along with with his head. He stared into the dirt with his blue eyes.
"Gosh, Logan was only trying to have some fun. Logan doesn't have anybody to play with."
"Logan, there's a time and a place for play ..."
"Yah! Everytime, Everyplace!" said with brand new glee.
I smiled. "Who taught you that?"
"Baloo" said he.
"Did he teach you to use the sword too?" I asked.
"No. Bagera did." With that he ran off giggeling and swinging his sword.
I walked on threw the court and then into the throne world. I removed my cloak and drapped it over the throne then sat down.
"Page!" I yelled and waited.
"Page! ... Haven't I a page? I know they don't like me and I've permenately rid me of two. But haven't I a new Page?"
"Yessire!" came the winded reply as a jester slid into the court trying to stop his run.

"You're my page?"
"Yessir!" was the quick reply.
"Then advise me." I said.
"Would that be for advisors to do, sire?"
"It is, But I don't want there advise, I want yours."
"Yessire ....... On what sire?"
"The DNAL FO DETSIWT SGNOS."
"Sire?"
"What do you know of know of it?"
"Uh, ... well its a black void that gives advise to the weary minded in song .... isn't it?"
"Is it?"
"Yes ... . . Yes it is .... Uh, they also say that it influnces all poetic voice, that is by giving it the rythm of the continuity."
"Hmmm. Tell me, do you think the viod belongs to one man?"
"Well.. .. no Sire. I believe it a gift to all men from the Creator."
"I agree. I like you, but I don't think you'll last either. Pity. Page, I want you to deliver a message to every King you can find. I want to hold a peace meeting in the DNAL FO DETSIWT SGNOS. Tommorrow at dusk. Remember every ruler you can find. Now go."
And the Jester ran off with a "Yessire!" and faded into the sun set to deliver the message.

8407.31

The Void thrumed with power and the beat of the universe. All the Kings began to gather.
At first I stood alone, in full cerimonial dress. Glove, reflective sunglasses, cape, wreath of flies and black suit with high collars.
"Friend?" I heard and turned.
There stood Death Dealer. Black cloak, black suit with a red Chiro emblazon on his chest and the bloddy cross on his arms. The gold pendant of the Lion about his neck, crown of thorns about his head.
"Good to see you my friend." I said and moved in closer. We stood close yet never touched.
"I hear your kingdoms in the West are doing well." I said.
"They are." he replied, "and we are expanding to the East."
"Luck my friend, luck be with you."
"It won't be enough!" snapped the brown skined King I met the other day. "I demand to know what this meeting is about."
"In due time." I said as I walked to greet the next King. He too was a friend.
"Theseus, my friend. How are you."
"Well," said he as he walked past me. He stoppd and made royal conversation with Death Dealer. I was disturbed as Theseus leaned . against a wall and rest part of his larel crown against it.
Soon arived the other Kings and Rulers and they all gathered into little groups or stood alone.
With the self-proclaimed "God" of the snake and vulture crown stood others I instantly despised. There was a Glutton wearing a crown of blunted, golden thorns. A druid stood tall among them wearing grey robes and a wreath of weeds. There were others, mostly wearing gold and jewels and one who wore make-up and costume jewlery.
Other groups and such weren't so bad. There was one (of many) who particularly stood out. He was a tall slender man with traces of a beard. He was pale and his robes sheer and white. His crown was particularly beautiful, it made of pure crystal growths and shimmered in the sun.
One mamoth man trudged in waving his club of bone and grunting out barbaric threats. The stench from crown of flesh and bone bore forth a repulsive pleasure.
A dead King was present also. His skeleton set down by attendans then waved off by his boney fingers. His crown of thorn vines had blossomed into a crown of Roses.

Even in his deathly state, this crown looked beautiful.
One other worth mentioning. She walked in with her beautiful green dress wearing no crown. She didn't believe power rested on the head, but in the eagerness of the body. At her side stood a herion.
All about me danced the crowned heads of the worlds, filling the soundless void. There were crowns of iron, gold, silver, tin. Feathers, scales, crystals, and jems. Wreaths of fire, water, ice, clouds, and rock.
"Requesting quite, Requesting quite ..." began the whispering void. Only the thrum of the crowd increased, until ..
"Silence!!! I lence, lence, ence, ce."

All eyes fell silently upon me as my word continued to echo through the void.
"We are here to discuss a problem. That problem is the ownership of the DNAL FO DETSIWT SGNOS. I propose a pact - No one man owns the void, thus No one ruler should. Solution, we all own, we all use the void at own lesure. Two rules - don't infringe on the counsel of another. Either wait or go to another spot. Second - No more wars or arguements . within or about the void."
Arguement and Debat arose. I stood my ground and pushed hard for the proposel. Death Dealer, Theseus, and few others stood with me.
The Brown skined king and his cohorts stood against.
Others were nuetral, undecided, or had other proposels.
What made it difficult was that the void helped every Ruler make his speech.
After three days of Debate, we all went home, steadfast in our point.
Unfinished.

*If you think the issue of censorship in music is new think again. This was the beginning of my fight for free speech. I couldn't believe that people where trying to ban and label certain music to keep it out of the ears of 'minors'. It was worse when I found much of the music I listened to (and that you have found quoted here) was on the lists. At least now I was old enough to vote (many of my friends where not).*

8408.02

And the King came home, soon to fall ill.
He took off his scarlet cloak and hung it with care over the side of his throne. He walked into his bed chamber and threw his glove on the floor. His left hand then removed the reflective sunglasses and placed them on his desk. He then removed his clothes, all of them, and trudged naked to bed. He had no problem falling asleep.
He did have problems staying asleep. This King dreampt of becoming an Angel or an Icaris. He doesn't remember much of the dream except that he was growing large snow white wings. He remembers trying to fly, yet in this flight he was running from something, something he never saw. As he flew he twisted about in the air, out of controll, unused to his wings. As he flew in these contorting posisions he remembers wakeing to reality in a half-sleep, throughout the night. He didn't have wings but he felt as if he was flying in the clouds. There was a funny taste in his mouth and the sheets felt stale.
When he awoke he didn't feel right. His body ached his head thundered and split. His ever troubled stomache churned demanding food yet never accepting it. He stood to get dressed and vision . grew dim and he staggered about unable to keep his balance.
Despite this the King dressed himself and went on to preform his only mandatory duty.
Once this was done however the King returned to his bed chamber and continued to sleep. Waking only for medicine and lunch.
Late he awoke, feeling better, and decided to sit up and watch one of the court jesters better acts. Durning the on-core the King began to Shiver and shake. He siezed a blanket and wraped himself up tight and staggered again to his bed chanber.
He put the blanket over his sheets to help control this unencouraged cold. The shaking had to stop. He crawled into bed shivering and curled up into a ball. He pulled up the covers and made himself secure.
"Let there be just a little warmth."
He thought to himself in the dark. Then all hell broke lose. The King burned.
He kicked off the extra blanket and used his sheets as fans. All to no avail. He radiated heat and everything he touched burned making it hard to find a cool place to lay.
"Even in this heat," he thought, "My wreath would would turn into fire!"
As he tossed and turned under the sheets the sweat came and he began to wet the heated sheets. Every place . he lay was hot and wet and stuck to his flesh demanding air.
Midnight. The lights come on and the King rolls over in his delirium. His Mother stands over him preparing the medicines and she smiles down upon him.
"I'm all wet." siad the King as he took the medicines.
"Good" she said, and turned out the light, leaving him to his delierium.
After that he slept and awoke feeling 97% better. He's still in bed writeing down his experience before his nap.

8408.02

"God Damn!" said the King under his breath, "How long can a head - ache hang - on?"
Then he continued to think, and finally drew a conclusion.
Only Gods can write a documentary in future tense.

8408.03

"Oh, God!" screamed the King in his dreams. He lay under his sheets curled up like an embreo, shaking like a leaf. The King shook so hard he couldn't move and again he had strange dreams.
He dreampt he was in a circular clearing, forest all around him. He wore very ornate gold armour covering everything but his head.

Suddenly the trees around him turned into giant faces, all Chinese or Japanese wise men. Then there was a fierce woman wearing armour like his.
She said some things in hate and spit at his feet. Suddenly both suits of armour trembled and shook, paralizing both combatants from the neck down.
The King, lieing on the ground, controlled a horse. The woman controlled a large snail that moved like the wind. Both Horse, and Snail ran winding trails through out the surrounding forest. The Kings Horse fell in quicksand then climbed out. Yet as the Horse continued to run it decayed, then died sloshing onto the ground.
The Woman could now move but the King could not. She yelled more hate words and began to talk to the elders faces.  She sent little dogs to chew on the Kings helpless body and she laughed at me.
She knew the answers but only laughted because the King couldn't find them.
He woke up trembleing hard and tried to stretch out, the shaking had to stop. The King did not like feeling like an epileptic.
He stretched out and had a dream about a cyborg in the Olympics. He was a wresteler and he taught . wresteling. But he also danced. He danced in fits and starts, like a breake-dancer or like a broken machine.
He talked about dance as a restraint, not a release.
The King awoke and cursed Loki for this was his doing but not his fault.
After medicines and a little air he felt 97% better. But again he will stay in bed. Until his nights are clear and he no longer depends on medicine. He only wishes the Headache would go away first.

8408.05

"So much, So little," said the King as he noticed his writing hand felt numb.
"Back," he tells me, "Go back!" so I go to the days we forgot.
The King still feeling 97% better on the 3^rd recieved a welcome vist from the Calm Struggeling Alien. He came back from the Green mass and told the King how much he enjoyed his stay but doesn't want to go back yet, at least for awhile. He told of his good times getting wounded and being hurt. He showed his scars and lack of stitches, and for once, the King had no reason to take salts with his . meal.
The King enjoyed seeing his friend but his illness was hindering his enjoyment somewhat. The King began to shiver and shake and it was 4:3Ø o'clock in the after - noon, not yet after 9:ØØ o'clock in the evening when such things usally came. Even though the King was shaking so the Alien stayed, even past the time he was supposed to stay.
When the Alien left the King was shakeing badly and hated every quiver. Soon he spread out and began to sweat out in the heat again. Only this time he couldn't sleep or dream.

The next morning the King awoke. Today he felt 98% better but called it 97% because he'd made a fool of himself, shaking like a Jester, infront of an old friend. And also because a realitive, Blaine, was to marry his lady love, and the King couldn't go. He wanted to go, but, he stayed at home, alone, and had his fantasys filed away alphebeticly.

That Night the King lie in bed trying to sleep. He stared at the cieling, talked to a spider on the curtain and wondered what . his Cat was up to. The Cat?
That reminded him of Death Dealer. Death Dealer -------
The King was thinking of just that morning when he was thinking of him. His cat walked in the room and ploped down in the sun.
The Sun made the room to hot for the King so he closed the bamboo slatted curtian. The Cat got up jumped on the bed and yelled at me then jumped under the curtians, sat in the window, and leaned back on the curtian. The Cats shadow came through on the curtian as a fuzzy silhoutte then lay across the bed in ebony sharpness.
"Just like Death Dealer." he thought. "To bask in Sun and threaten to Kill anyone in the way. To isolate himself in the Sun and back on wall leaving us only his shadow to see and stand in. I wonder," he thought, "If that Spider on the curtain has sugnificance?" and smiled already knowing the answer.
He remembered all of this in this sleepless night. Then he remembered that soon, one day to close, that that Cat would soon leave this home, for a long time.
The King lay there thinking . Thinking . of how much he meant to him as friend and advisor. How little he got to see him, and how much he already missed him.
"I have grown to love and fear him," he thought, "To be fustrated and Angry with him yet never have I been able to hate him. No I only Fear him.
"You are my foundest memorys and I hope to see you again, not to relive those memories, but to make new ones." And the King saw visions of the Cat getting on the plan *I'm sure that should be plane*, and wishing that he hadn't lost the ability to cry. For he would surely like to shed a tear for his leaving friend.
It was an image, almost a dream.
The the King thought of better things. He and the Cat were in the Gymnasium.
"Have you figured out your new schedual yet?" asked the King.
"Not yet all of it." would reply the Cat
"Take A.P. English. The first semester will be great for you. Read alot, work hard, but you learn alot." said the King.
"Yes, but will I like what I read?"
"You don't have to like what you read," said the King fuming under the collar. "But I think you'll like the first books she reads . to you. There packed full of religion. Only in second semester do you get into the Agnostics, the Athesit and the one true Catholic."
Well, he though they would be better thoughts.
It was 1 o'clock when the King became tired of the sleeplessness and took his medication. Then he sleept.
He watched a beautiful little woman draped in long white silks dance about in the free space of blacknes when his eyes closed, it strained his eyes to watch her, but he did. And floated into 'pleasent sleep.

© 1999 March (Date implied by entry date, Date of copyright covers web publication)