The corpses piled high, screaming curses into the sky. 
Washing away the debris afforded no release from a conscience troubled with the traces of a halcyon era gone by. We were stricken with Fate.
We were the last of Those Who Knew The Past. Cloistered within the severity of the mundane, leading lives that knew the Taint of a Future lost. The undecided whim of The Lord in its Final Stages proved unbearable. The day was ashen gray. At night the howl of the Hunter echoing in the pitiful heart.

The Eldest Archons decided with the stoutest affirmation who amongst the Few would venture unto the Stronghold Below. The Adversary was afoot, striking with impudence, and our numbers were dwindling. The wound would not close. My father, my uncles, and all the Elder males had gathered us to grant the blessing. The wish that held little strength, if that within the self held any impurities. I held onto a Secret til the end. My heart was impure, and held tangled thoughts. My body was unclean, my hands buried in gristle and gore. My heart cried out to the Sky for a token, a sigil to protect me from the oncoming onslaught. With fiery wings the Third answered in a language in which I could only glean symbols.

The Heavenlies lit with the fury of a thousand Noons in the desert wasteland of our years. The Sun in past gave life renewed, embraced the weak and made them strong, coaxed flowers from seeds, made grass green with its smile. This was not the same Sun. Our sigil now was an avenging
angel wielding the sword, separating the chaff from the wheat. The Righteous Anger annihilated all last traces of doubt and worry from our
hearts. It whispered, commanded that I speak, and remain free at last from the lies. My eyes melted into glass. My body withered, was torn apart by the wind. My consciousness fought bravely, withstood the Phoenix pyre, and coalesced into a new form. That of my youth, before the Harrowing.

The tunnel was bathed in the blackest bile. It writhed and hissed and spit the evil substance out through its largest maw. The Others smiled grimly at me, saying that the Most Pure should go first. Believing with no small faith that the Lord had entrusted to His servant the Aegis To Withstand The Gravest Doom. I held back and surveyed the land. Blasted by Nature's unforgiving wrath, those left behind, those Unawake, the poor children of the Earth had everything riding on this one last chance. How could I let them down? I named the Three Saints for the last time. In my hands the charm that My Beloved gave before she ascended. In my heart a growing Light. On these lips the faint smile of Knowledge and Trust.

And then I awake. And it was high time to be Awake. The dream had told me to go ahead and know no fear.

everDearest,

My heart has been ennobled by Our Love. This Love has brought me countless joys and had warmed me through the awful biting cold of the
night. I ask you to accept this one Promise. I shall share with you in a moment More Things that would answer these questions. I have wanted to
tell you at the onset, but I was scared that you would leave. I was taken aback by the force of your agreement, the wonder of the wording.
Even in this I am weaving spirals, conjuring Dreams. Let me tell you in an instant what may prove to be my Undoing.

Twenty-some odd years ago Lauterio and Corazon gave birth to a bright-eyed boy in the New Manila, in the Chinese General Hospital.
The child represented Hope for both families, and within the year was given his name. (Herein my name shall remain Hidden.) 

It has been for Twenty-One years. Three years hence.

Siddharta I chose because it meant nothing. I gave it its own meaning. The name I chose for myself came to mean a lot of things. It colored and
gave variance to the person that I have become. Become Who You Are, and from nothing I have walked and formed truly into Someone, from a mere something. I have Thought, I have Felt, I have Seen. I have Loved.

I cannot ask you to stay with me if you do not know this. I cannot ask the Promise that I have made to you to remain Strong - if you, whom I
love more than anything in the World will not accept this. I tried with a heart that bore guilt and shame that tore me in half to tell you sooner.
I was stricken with remorse and impatience with my damnable riddles: The poem that I wrote under my True Name that I sent you. The branches
("ramos" in Spanish) that I made and left with you, both as a Wish to embolden the memory of our time together, and as a reminder of my inability to crush the Final Wall. This time I see no way that I should keep the knowledge separate from Light and Truth. The past three days I made light of, in accounts, making humor out of the wujen. Making comic the Superstition. I kept to myself, cloistered until the last moment. Heaven smile upon me, for I offer you the unbridled Truth. And forgive me for not Sooner giving it to you.

I remain yours truly, moreso Now than ever. I await your response. Truly, I do not know how you will respond to this, nor if you will even honor me with a response. I shall remain at a respectful distance, waiting fervently with the same prayers that have brought on this sign. It is not madness that has taken hold of my mind, nor sadness that purges my heart. The Sun comes out and enlightens. I found myself standing in its warmth,
wanting to be cleansed and renewed. And to forget past weakeness, and reclaim. And be made Pure. I shall not mention Love at this juncture,
since emotion will undoubtedly wield Reprimand. But know that in my renewed heart and enlightened mind that I do. 
Know that in everything there is Only You.

And I am Yours.

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