Gallient wrote:MagicManICT wrote:Need I remind people that the "firm" guiding hand of certain peoples created atrocities that tortured and millions over the millenia in the name of "doing what's right for us?"
"Believe like I do or you shall be sent to the torture chamber until you confess wholeheartedly that you do," or give up your life in refusal.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jbcyiFt5VEs
Young Braves, do not fear words of men possessing souls of rot and decay. In their hatred against righteousness, they twist their tongues into sharp, poison-tipped daggers by which they aim at the hearts of their neighbors. Do not fret, if such stories are how they choose to serve Satan then I shall provide I story of my own to serve the side of God and justice.
Before I came across the rolling ocean to this New World of your people, I lived on a humble farm in the heart of Spain. I lived not alone but with family. With wife, with children, three daughters and one son.
One day in the early light of dawn did my son and I take recreation and joy on the backs of strong riding horses. We rode out together, over the long rolling hills of my land, enjoying the majestic beauty of nature. A lone dog did we come upon, one that stood proud and friendly, begging my son for his affection. I had reached unto my back and removed my crossbow, ready to slay the unknown creature. My son however, enamored by this beast he stayed my hand. He looked to me and said, "Father, this dog seems a fine one and surely means no harm. I am distraught that you would even think to slay it." His young words were filled with such seeming wisdom, and though at the very depths of my soul did I sense danger in that animal, I allowed him to dismount and proceed to approach it. Before I knew it the beast struck, my son's hand bitten before I could defend him. The beast had run off right quick after that, and we returned home to treat my son's wound.
It was a small wound upon the tip of his finger, my wife cleaned and wrapped it and nothing else was said. It was three days later before we noticed a black vileness take root at the site of the wound. As I grasped a knife ready to remove the plague, my son cried out to me, "No Father! How will I live with a missing finger?" He looked at me with those same eyes that I saw in my own reflection, I could not deny him his request. Another day then passed, to his wrist the necrosis spread. "How will I live without a hand!?" he pleaded when once more seeing me with knife in hand. My wife fetched the doctor then, whom vehemently said that to remove the flesh would be a crime and we must wait for it to heal itself as God intended. The next day, his arm was black and foul. "No father!" he screamed once more, "how will I live without an arm!?". Helpless did I feel as I watched the foulness spread from arm to arm, from leg to leg, and eventually to the eyes that so swayed me. I watched then as my son's mind was taken, and evil lay claim where once there was only good. With crossbow I stood ready to slay the beast that was now my son. "No Father!" cried my daughters, "how will we live without our strong brother!?" Once more my hand was stayed, and so corrupted were my daughters.... "No Husband!" begged my wife, "how will we live without our children!?".
I did not have the strength to remove the plague at each step of its progress. With tears of shame did I then find myself, standing over the graves of my wife and children. The Chief, strong and righteous as he is, knows when such vileness should be removed in order to protect the purity of others. It is none other than evil that you hear upon the wind, telling you that it is not the way. The plague wants to spread, and The Chief in all his strength stands like a loving father set on our protection. At the cost of shed tears over necessary deeds he is a beacon ready to guide us.
Thank you for that wonderful piece of art. I now feel complete as a person for having read it.
