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datatime: 2022-09-25 17:12:28 Author:OkTphwvr

How knowing, how clever was his expression HOW full of triumph he seemed suddenly in his silence and patience. How utterly damned.

bitter earth of the monastery, Amadeo came into the light.

I stopped; I drew back from the blood and the visions. I knew him. I knew the relentless and hopeless darkness inside of him. I knew the life that had been forecast in hunger and bitter discipline.

You can stand now, my blessed pupil, I told him.My blood runs through you after the poison. We have begun.

I drew him back away from the wound, and as he cried out I sank my teeth into his throat again. This time it was my blood mingled with his that flowed into me. The poison was no more.

He took the first steps, unsure of himself, so full of my blood that surely the light itself must have amazed him, but his eyes were moving over the multitude of figures painted on the wall. Then he looked directly at me.

He trembled, fearing to let go of me, his head hanging heavily, his luxuriant hair soft against my hands.

love with the sacrificial cells and their starving inhabitants, save for his gift: that he could paint.

Prince Michael, their ruler, wanted to send Amacleo's father into the grasslands. It was a foolish mission. The monks railed against it, that Amadeo's father would take him into such danger. The monks wrapped the ikon and gave it to Amadeo. Out of the darkness and

I saw monks half walled up alive as they fasted, eating only what would sustain them. I smelled the earth. I smelled decay. Oh, how ghastly was this passage to salvation. And he had been part of it, half in

Prince Michael, their ruler, wanted to send Amacleo's father into the grasslands. It was a foolish mission. The monks railed against it, that Amadeo's father would take him into such danger. The monks wrapped the ikon and gave it to Amadeo. Out of the darkness and

Then for one instant I saw nothing but his paintings, one image tumbling upon another, rapt faces of Christ, the Virgin-I saw the halos studded with costly jewels. Ah, such riches in the dark, cheerless monastery. And then came the rich bawdy laughter of his father, wanting him to leave the monastery, to ride out with him into the grasslands where the Tatars rode.

Don't be afraid, child, not even for a moment. You'll die now to live forever, as I take your blood and give it back to you. I won't let you s).ip away.

He trembled, fearing to let go of me, his head hanging heavily, his luxuriant hair soft against my hands.

I drew him back away from the wound, and as he cried out I sank my teeth into his throat again. This time it was my blood mingled with his that flowed into me. The poison was no more.

flawless ikons, of the cold chambers in which he'd lived.

flawless ikons, of the cold chambers in which he'd lived.

I sank my teeth into his throat and tasted the poison in his blood as soon as it flowed into me, my body destroying the poison, my body consuming his blood effortlessly, as it might have consumed a dozen such young ones, and into my mind there c^rne the visions of his childhood-of the Russian monastery where he had painted his

I cut the flesh of my throat and I held his head near me.Drink, I said. I pushed his head forward.Put your mouth to the wound. Drink.

Prince Michael, their ruler, wanted to send Amacleo's father into the grasslands. It was a foolish mission. The monks railed against it, that Amadeo's father would take him into such danger. The monks wrapped the ikon and gave it to Amadeo. Out of the darkness and

love with the sacrificial cells and their starving inhabitants, save for his gift: that he could paint.

How knowing, how clever was his expression HOW full of triumph he seemed suddenly in his silence and patience. How utterly damned.

I stepped away from him. I left him standing. I let loose my red

Again, I saw the ikons. I saw the dim corridors of the monastery, and then in the falling snow, I saw the two on their horses, Amadeo and his father. Amadeo held the ikon, and the priest ran beside him, telling him that he must place the ikon in a tree, that the Tatars wquld find it and count it as a miracle, and Amadeo, how innocent he looked to be such a bold rider, to be chosen to ride with his father for Prince Michael's mission, as the snow came down heavily, as his hair was whipped by the wind.

bitter earth of the monastery, Amadeo came into the light.

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