(Touvoir, 1901)
Before I heed the call to war again and return to KΓΆnigsberg, my friend Silasβwho has been with me for most of my lifeβsat me down before a calm lake, with the sun looming over our head, about to set and descend over our bodies.
β I trust you and you must know something of me. β
From the folds and creases of his palm, life sprout: pale green vines at first, then elaborately-weaved tissues forming a skeletal system.
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β Most unnatural. β
My mouth spoke, though my heart whisper of other thing: a far and distant longing for something I have yet to put a name on.
I know less of him with this revelation and the one thing I am sure of is the gap between Silas and I grew considerably. My life was numbered in short, but Silas' might not beβand I yearn to see the future, to walk out of this fate as a free man, and to be divine, just as he is.
Thus, I did what needed to be done. >>
To the world, I lived and aged slowβwhile Silas disappeared from the face of Earth. When I had the opportunity to tell my tale, I was revered as the Saint of Diligenceβand in private, mocking whispers: Tantalea.
DELECTATIO MOROSA
