The Cross and The Cosmos - Issue 10

The Cross and Cosmos
Edited by GL Francis and Glyn Shull

Published by Glyn Shull
The Black Rose

Webmastering provided by Frank
January 1st, 2012
The Black Rose

by Jarkko Pylvs
Citra and Artwork

by Jacob Lindaman
The Seventh Messenger

by Pedro Blas Gonzlez
Jarkko Pylvs
January 1st, 2012
Greetings one and all!

It is that time again: time for another amazing issue of the Cross and the Cosmos! And now
with some great news! As was announced through Marcher Lord Press, the Anthology for TC2's inaugural
year has hit the internet! The excitement at our fictional headquarters is palpable! These great stories
represent the very best of Christian Speculative Fiction for over a year as well as the stories that follow.
Many of the stories there in also have a companion story that furthers the original. Great stuff! You can get
the Anthology through marcherlordpress.com.
Also of note is the inclusion of a new member of the TC2 team: GL Francis, whose work
has graced TC2 in virtually every issue since its founding, has taken over our editorial team. Currently,
we're looking for an additional editor or two to flesh out our anthology team. We're also going to need
slush editors soon as the tide of stories is sure to increase, or so we pray!
Now for this issue. In this issue, we have another fantastic story from Jarkko Pylvas. This
time, we're following the story of a young man seeking his love's hand. The Black Rose is followed by a
wonderful love story from Jacob Lindaman featuring people from different worlds bonded together
through love and faith. Jacob's story is also the cover feature, also drawn by Jacob. Citra is followed by
The Seventh Messenger by Pedro Gonzalez. Messenger deals with the end times and a priest's faith.
These authors and artist are an amazing blend that truly compliment each other and our savior: Jesus
Christ.
Now, I know that you're hankering to get to the stories, but I'd like to talk about the next
issue. Our next issue's theme is Dragons! My unit's mascot is a Steel Dragon. We already have two
stories and are looking for more, so If you no someone who has a dragon story or would like to write one,
including you, se3nd us a line!
In His Service Glyn
Citra
Jacob Lindaman
January 1st, 2012
THE BLACK ROSE

by
Jarkko Pylvs
Once upon a time, there was a poor, young man named Filemon who earned his living as a chimneysweep
in the Old Town of Prague, the capital city of Bohemia. He lived in a small apartment with a kitchen and
one bedroom on the third floor of an old tenement on the outskirts of the Old Town of Prague. There was
no stove or fireplace or chimney in the apartment, but neither was there grave sorrow though it was rather
cold there in winter-time. Filemon lived there alone. His parents had died several years before. At the time,
Filemon had mourned their passing away, but nowadays his mood was mostly cheerful and he loved being
of use as a chimneysweep. While he worked, he was in the habit of singing songs, whose music and lyrics
he himself had composed. The boys cheer was infectious and those who heard him sing enjoyed his
company and artistic gift.
Filemon was such a proficient chimneysweep that the word of his skills reached the royal palace of the
king of Bohemia. One spring day, when the tulips and narcissus and cherry and apple trees were all
blossoming with their lovely scent, Filemon received an invitation to come sweep the golden and silver
chimneys of the royal palace. The letter displayed the official stamp of the royal palace of the king of
Bohemia. That evening at home, after a long day of work, Filemon admired the beautiful stamp by candle
light. He wanted to show the stamp to his parents, and remembered again that they had passed away. Then
he said: I will show this letter to you in heaven, my dear parents, ifI myselfshall ever one day get in there!
Golden and silver chimneys

Early the next morning, while the Moon and Venus still shone bright in the sky, Filemon left on toot for
the royal palace. On his journey, he met his old friend, the baker.
Where are you headed at this hour, my old friend?, asked the baker.
Im going to the royal palace ofthe king ofBohemia, my dear old buddy. I will be sweeping the golden
and silver chimneys, Filemon answered his voice full of joyful spirit.
Good heavens! I congratulate you. At the royal palace, you will meet the Princess Isabella, who is more
beautiful than any other lady in the world. Her locks are black as ebony and her skin is white as snow and
her lips are red as blood. But, added the baker, mark my words, when I say to beware ofthe Black Rose in
the garden ofthe royal palace, because the one who sees it shall face perdition because oflove.
I shall remember your warning, my old friend!, said Filemon as he continued in a rush towards the royal
palace.
In the blue moments of early morning, Filemon arrived at the meian entrance of the royal palace. The head
butler of the court greeted the chimneysweep in a most friendly. Filemon responded to the butlers
welcoming words with a friendly salute. Filemon and the butler walked to the courtyard of the royal
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Jacob Lindaman
January 1st, 2012
palace, where the butler defined the chimneysweeps duties, which included sweeping the soot from all the
chimneys in the royal palace. What a magnificent task!, Filemon thought, This task will take a month or
two maybe even three months!
Now it was time to start work and so Filemon climbed up on the roof to begin sweeping the golden and
silver chimneys of the royal palace. Filemon was very skilled and handy and while he worked, he began to
sing.
1.
O white bird
of the sky
fly high and
even higher
to the blueness
unmeasurable
then come down
and land to at your
home the dearest
dovehouse
2.
O flower of the grass
field green shine
shine even more
beautifully
let your colours
glow with shine
drink from the
fountain of life
purest of all waters
3.
O traveller set off
on your journey
travel still one
more verst
take nothing
with you
on this journey
except for love
shining bright
4.
O Kingdom of Heaven
grow and increase
as the largest
of all trees raise
hide as the
secret treasure
into the field
and sell as
the most precious
of all jewels
That is how his song went. And after that, he sang even another song.
Which lady in the land is the most beautiful?, I asked the wind and the rain.
But the wind just soughed and the rain drops just pattered.
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Jacob Lindaman
January 1st, 2012
Which lady in the land is the prettiest ofall?, I asked the moon and the stars.
But the stars just twinkled and the moon just glowed bright.
I even asked the Sun: Which lady in the land is the most pretty?
But the sun only shone with its golden beams.
I asked the clouds and the rainbow, which lady in the land is prettiest?
But the rainbow just showed its colours and the clouds faded away.
I asked the wise, who is the most beautiful lady in the land?
But the wise just answered by asking back: Why do you wish to know?
I asked my friend: Who is the loveliest lady in the land?
My friend answered: Ask also your heart, my friend.
Finally, I asked my heart, which lady in the land is the loveliest?
My heart answered me: Your bride is the loveliest!
And the wind soughed as an echo: Your Bride, your bride.
The rain sang: Your bride is the most beautiful ofall.
The stars twinkled: Your sweetheart, your darling.
The Moon sighed: Your darling is the prettiest.
The sun smiled: Your sweetheart is the loveliest.
The wise and my friend echoed: Your lady, your lady.
The rainbow arched down to the feet ofmy sweetheart,
The clouds formed a castle, whose queen was my bride.
Filemon didnt yet have a bride or girlfriend, but even so, this was what he sang.
And it happened that a window in the young princess salon was open on that very beautiful day in early
spring, when the tulips and apple trees and orchards were on the verge of their season of bloom. From her
open window, the princess observed the figure of the chimneysweep while he worked high up on the roof
of the royal palace, and she was much delighted to see such a supple and courageous young man who
moved in such a subtle way on the roof and sang with such a delightful voice. At that moment, the princess
promised herself that she would make time in her weekly schedule in order to get acquainted with the
young chimneysweep. So, the princess went straight away to meet her father, the king of Bohemia, who
had been widowed some five years before.
Hear me, my dear old father, the princess began her discussion with the old king.
Tell me, my dear daughter, answered the old king.
Oh, my dear father, I have been taught by the best teachers in the Kingdom ofBohemia and Im very
grateful for this. My teachers have taught me a variety oftopics, including for example mathematics like
algebra and Pythagoras theorem, foreign languages like German and French, classical languages like
Latin and Greek, poetry, art, music and dance like for example, berquemasques. I have been privileged,
and very keen to learn all these subjects, but just lately, I have been pondering the topic ofschooling and
have come to this conclusion: My schooling in the court is lacking in one very important side oflife.
So tell me, my dear daughter, which side is this?
I mean by this the life ofordinary people in the Kingdom ofBohemia. I hope you are not offended by my
words, but the fact is that I have so far learned only through courtly teachers, who have taught me only
about topics meaningful in the courtly life and at the same time I know almost nothing about the world
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Jacob Lindaman
January 1st, 2012
outside the court, by which I mean the life ofordinary people in our kingdom. Now I wish to learn about
this other side oflife and learn how ordinary people live.
And how have you planned to learn about this other side oflife from the practical side, my dear
daughter?
My plan is to become one ofthe cleaning women ofthe royal palace for some time. I wish to know how
floors are scrubbed and how laundry is washed. Now Im asking you: Do you accept my plan, my dear old
father?
Thats a fine plan, my dear daughter! Im so proud ofyou that this thought crossed your mind. Of
course, I accept. I believe that this last lesson might be more useful than anything else you have learned so
far through various courtly teachers.
Thank you, my dear old father, said the princess.
Rabbi Lw
One day while sweeping the golden and silver chimneys of the royal palace of the king of Bohemia,
Filemon came upon the front of an open skylight. In the other side stood an elderly man with greyish hair
and beard who was carefully observing the activities of the chimneysweep on the roof. Filemon
immediately recognized that the person standing next to him was Rabbi Yehuda Lw himself, the courtly
medical doctor of the king of Bohemia. While Filemon strenuously on the golden and silver chimneys,
Rabbi Lw struck up a discussion.
Hello, sweeperboy! Do you know who I am?, asked Rabbi Lw.
Ofcourse, I know! You are the famous Rabbi Yehuda Lw, the courtly doctor ofthe king ofBohemia, no
more and no less, the chimneysweep answered.
So tell me, what do they say about me in the world?, asked the Rabbi.
In response, Filemon started to sing a song.
It
was
you,
Rabbi Lw
who wanted
to became as
the likeness of
the God Himself
with the strength
ofthe most secret
name ofthe God Almighty
You wrote within the sign of Solomon
written on the sand ofground

the most secret name ofthe God
the name Emet, and with this name
you raised from the ground the fierce
Golem with the word the Truth
written in Hebrew on his forehead
for the purpose ofprotecting
you and your people in times
uncertain, when common people scorned

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Jacob Lindaman
January 1st, 2012
the Holy Bible and the Holy Talmud

and your people were torn out
from their homes to the streets
and the marketplaces to be
humiliated by the common people
which the angel Mikael watched
with tears in his sky blue eyes
and in his right hand the Sword of the Truth.

Truly you are the reflection and
likeness ofthe God

Almighty, Rabbi Lw,
you are the defender
ofthe rights ofthe weak
and the oppressed,
you are like a reflection
ofreflection in
a mirror surface,
which in reflections
reached the eternity.
You raised the fierce Golem from
the ground just like

God raised
the first man, Adam.
From withered
branches were made
its bones, from arid
grass were made
its locks, and from
black stones were
made its eyes from
the dust ofearth
its flesh and its
Spirit was made of a blow of wind.

But soon you realized that the Golem grew
day after day bigger and bigger

stronger and stronger. Maybe
then you thought in your mind:
Let the God righteously teach
His chosen nation, His most
dearest child, because too much
ofstrength for human being only
deteriorating in a spiritual sense, because also Jobs

faith was brighter in the middle
ofsufferings. Maybe this was your
reasoning when you dismissed
the fierce exorcisms and let the
Golem became as earth and
dust again. You removed only
one letter Alef from the Golems
forehead and then there read
only the word Met, which means dead in Hebrew.

Citra
Jacob Lindaman
January 1st, 2012
And
there the
dead Golem
now lies motionless
staring at the ceiling
with motionless eyes ofstone
in the old attic ofthe geniza
ofAltneuchul in Prague,
where it await the
severe days when
it shall be
awakened
still one
more
time.
Rabbi Lw was very pleased with this song. When it ended, he smiled and said: Sing me one more song
and this time sing about love, O Troubadour!
And so Filemon sang about love.

Love is like a moth ofthe night
it does not fear the fire
but rushes straight away to
the hottest ofall flames.
Love is not a bird or a dog or a fish.
Love can be a bird or a dog or a fish;
it can take as its messenger
any form and speak fluently
any language on earth.
In reality love doesnt have
a physical body.
Its like the angel
ofSumma Theologia
ofThomas ofAquino.
Love is bilingual: The other tongue speaks
the language ofDreams
and the other one ofDeath.
Its like a Serpent.
Love is the supreme
clockwork created
by the God, which
works always
with deterministic
accuracy.
For the Hebrews love is Ahavaa.
and for the Greeks its Agape and Eros.
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Jacob Lindaman
January 1st, 2012
We have many names for love

but none knows its real name.
Love knows us all by all our names.
Love has wings
which it uses to fly from Lover
to Beloved and back to the Lover.
It does not ever get lost on its journey.
It is the Cosmic Mystery.
Its like a Dove.
Love carves to our hearts
the most beautiful ofall poems
with mighty strong arms
it tattoos within us
the most truthful ofall words
When Rabbi Lw had heard this song, he smiled even more, clapped his hands and shouted Bravo!
Season of Tulips
Another day that spring, the chimneysweep Filemon was up on the roof cleaning the chimneys. He came
in front of one golden chimney next to which was a skylight above a large salon in the royal palace. The
skylight was open and when the chimneysweep boy looked inside, he saw a modestly dressed and at the
same time very pretty young maiden who was scrubbing the floor of the salon. The locks of the maiden
were black as ebony, her skin was white as snow, and her lips were red as blood. Suddenly, the maiden
raised her eyes and met the gaze of the chimneysweep boy. They both smiled.
At that very amorous glance, Filemon fell for the maiden. He thought: What a beautiful lady! She is as
beautiful as a true princess! Or maybe even more beautiful! Thats what he thought, because he didnt
have a clue that the lady before him was actually the princess herself.
That evening, after having earlier that day met the princess for the very first time, Filemon returned
delighted and smiling to his home in the Old Town of the city of Prague. In the moments of the warm
spring evening, he wrote a poem for the maiden, whose locks were black as ebony, skin white as snow and
lips red as blood.
This is how the poem went.
O Lovely Maiden
Tonight, when the sky grows dark, the wind is rising and soughing on the glass ofwindows and
down on the street an unbroken stream ofhorses and carriages flows steady with the sounds ofclatter and
creaks, when by the side ofthe parks springtime blossoming ofthe tulips and apple trees and orchids and
cherry trees, inside the apartment building, on the third floor, where I live. I am alone and I feel: I want, I
dont want to escape this clattering and creaking. I think about your eyes, like a mystery which I can not
solve and suddenly the night throws its cloak ofdarkness on to this city.
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Jacob Lindaman
January 1st, 2012
I remember your smile, which you gave to me today almost accidentally. I remember: Your smile
was like a sensitive bird, which hard and heavy daylight had thrown down to the ground, but which you
picked up and held in your hands beautifully, carefully, tenderly. You gave me your smile like a golden bird
so that I would return it back to the night, where it could fly again. I hide myselfin this memory, I make it
my special secret and feel that there is nothing else in my life than this memory. It was a strange and
beautiful smile, joyous and sorrowful at the same time.
My thoughts: I want, I dont want to escape this clattering and creaking, this insomniac town,
where my only hope is in you. In you rosy red smile, in the white vellum ofyour skin, in the wind, which
sings the song ofdistant far-away, in dream, in the reflections ofthe silver mirrors of your eyes.
I feel: I dont want any more ofthis daylight, hard and heavy, but instead I want to utterly
disappear into this night, where your golden birds fly high, where the stars fall into your arms and loins,
your locks and lips and the wind, which
hums silently all this night the melody ofyour lips.
After Filemon had written this poem, he fell sleep and dreamed the loveliest dream of all dreams.
The next day, Filemon again saw the maiden with locks as black as ebony, skin white as snow, and lips red
as blood as he scrubbed the floor of the salon in the palace. When he saw her, he dropped his poem down
the chimney of the salonsmoke wasnt rising that timehoping the maiden would soon find the poem.
Late that evening, when the colour of the sun was already purple-red, Filemon found his way home after a
hard and demanding day of work. At the very instant he entered his home, a carrier pigeon flew inside the
bedroom from an open window. Filemon noticed the pigeon carried a letter attached to its foot. Filemon
removed the note and began to read.
The letter contained a poem.
Before the tulips
fall into hypnosis
ofthe pale night
the evening is
full ofpossibilities
and the heart
opens itself
for realizing
everything in
this world is
bound together
The birds sing
in a soft way
in the garden
and even a little
glance ofyou
makes me smile
And then I'm sure
its your chest
where my soulbird
flies tonight
it sings to your dream
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Jacob Lindaman
January 1st, 2012
the shadowy music

hide it within
your heart
feel its singing
on your skin
and nothing in this
world can ever
break us apart
After reading the letter, Filemon was sure that the note was from the maiden, whose locks were black as
ebony and skin white as snow and lips red as blood. Suddenly, it started to rain outside. Filemon sat down
at his desk and wrote a poem. This is how the poem went.
Secrets
What if
I would write
a poem to you?
Would the doves

carry it through
the rain protecting it
with their wings?
Or what if I would
travel to visit you
when the bright Moon
and Venus were
still seen on the sky?
Would you open
the door for me
in the blue moments
ofthe early morning?
What if I saw a dream

where I kissed you lightly
as a wing of a butterfly
when we were lying together
next to each other on a bed
covered with petals of roses.
IfI would tell you this dream,

would you then open to me
the hiding place ofyour secrets?
Would you give me a key
behind the mirror reflections?
Or are you saying that there is no cure to the crystal tears

of our eyes? Are you telling me that there is a rainbow,
but its colours dont shine for us?
I asked you before and Im asking you now:
Look
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January 1st, 2012
into the well

ofmysteries
because there
I hid
my heart
only
for you
Filemon attached the poem to the foot of the carrier pigeon and then released it.
Late the next night, just before sunrise when the bright Moon and Venus were still seen in the sky, he left
his home and headed towards the royal palace of the king of Bohemia. Filemon climbed on to the roof of
the royal palace in the blue moments of early morning and walked in front of the window, where he had
first seen the maiden with locks black as ebony and skin white as snow and lips red as blood. A few
moments later, the window opened from the inside and before him stood this adored maiden.
And what happened next? Its a secret.
All that summer, Filemon and the princess cooed like a pair of doves. Filemon fell deeper and deeper in
love with the maiden, whom he didnt know to be the one and only princess in the royal palace. The
princess, too, loved Filemon more and more every day. All that summer, he wrote more and more songs
and poems for the princess, each more delightful than the last. Finally, the tasks of the chimneysweeper
boy in the royal palace of the king of Bohemia were drawing close to an end. One evening, Filemon wrote
one more poem. This is how it went.
Written in stars
She invited me forth

from my naked secrets
With gold entangled with her hair
she girds me up to the clouds
She talks softly into my dreams
She dreams a forest
and a silence
and a mirror surface of a pond
and a whisper
I dont own her.
Except
for her silent mirror reflection
which is
the desire
of the
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January 1st, 2012
moment
which is
coming
closer
In the morning of his last workday in the last days of summer, the chimneysweep rose up once again to the
roof of the royal palace, but when he came in front of the window of the salon, where he had met the
maiden so many times before, there was a big surprise waiting for him. That morning, the maiden had
dressed in a glamorous gown with diamonds and rubies and emeralds, and on her forehead wore a golden
crown embellished with pearls. Filemon was shocked by this revelation, and only at that moment did he
realize that his girlfriend was in truth the one and only princess of this royal palace. The princess noticed
the shock she had caused with her costume. Without hesitation, she asked Filemon to come in and he
slipped inside the salon.
Dont be afraid, My Love. Come forth, please, said the princess.
Ill come ifit pleases you, O Princess, said Filemon
After this they were both silent for a moment.
Do you love me?, asked the princess finally.
Yes, O Princess. I cant deny this, answered Filemon.
Are you completely certain?, said the princess.
Yes I am, My Love. My heart belongs to you and none else, Filemon replied.
Oh, good. Ifthis is the truth, I have a further task for you.
Tell me, My Love. Which task shall this be?
All right, I will tell you now. It has happened that the prince ofour neighbouring kingdom, Prussia, has
fixed his attentions on me. He has asked my fathers permission to marry me. But I love you and not the
prince. Even so, I can not just turn down his proposal, because this would only lead into a war between
the two kingdoms. So, I have decided to arrange a competition in which the winner shall have my heart as
well as my hand in marriage. You will participate in this competition, wont you? Because ifyou do, Im
sure you will win this game, My Love, said the princess.
Yes, ofcourse, I will ifthis is your wish, said the chimneysweep.
Field of stones
Early the next morning, Filemon met his rival the prince of Prussia in the courtyard of the royal palace.
The prince was dressed in golden armour and had sharper than sharp golden sword on his belt. The prince
struck a conversation.
You are the poor chimneysweep boy from the Old Town ofPrague, arent you?, asked the prince.
Yes, truly I am .
How is it that you, who live poorly in Old Town ofPrague in a small apartment with no stove or
fireplace or chimney, think that you can beat me in competition and win the right to marry the princess?
Indeed, I am poor, but under the ceiling ofmy apartment, there is no great griefto be found, only
happiness.
I will show you griefall right! When I become king ofPrussia, I will cut your throat! What do you have
to say about that? Are you afraid?, said the prince in a pompous way.
No. I am not afraid ofyou, said Filemon.
Then the princess arrived in the courtyard and put an end to the arguing of the prince and the
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January 1st, 2012
chimneysweep. Come, come, boys. Stop your arguing right now. I have three tasks for you. The first is
to plough a hundred metres long field ofstones. I expect this to be accomplished before sunrise and
roosters crow tomorrow morning. The second task is to hit a single fiber ofmy hair with a bow and arrow
from the distance oftwo-hundred metres. You shall face this second tomorrow. The third task is to bring me
a red rose from the royal garden, whose only door is guarded by the strongest man in Bohemia and which
garden is surrounded by three-hundred metres high wall ofstones. I shall expect you to accomplish the
third task before sunrise the day after tomorrow. The one who accomplishes all three tasks successfully
shall have my heart for ever more and also the right to marry me, said the princess, who then walked away
and disappeared inside the royal palace.
Both the competitors, too, left the courtyard and walked away.
The next night, the prince arrived at the corner of the field of stones outside the city district. He came there
with a group of one-hundred of the strongest men of the Prussian army. It took only a few minutes for the
hundred soldiers to plough the hundred-metre long strip of the field of stones. When they finished the
prince ordered the soldiers to sow poisonous snakes in the next hundred-metre strip of the field of stones.
As they sowed the snakes, the prince shouted: More! More!
Sow even more snakes! Sow as many as

snakes as there are stars in the nightsky! Sow more or I will cut your throats when I become king of
Prussia! That was the way the prince shouted to his own men and he also sowed a few snakes himself.
While the prince and his men worked industriously in the field of stones, Filemon was fast asleep in his
home in the Old Town of Prague. He was sleeping because the prince had ordered his servant to put a
special sleep-inducing medicine into the drinking water of Filemons apartment.
It was very late at night when Filemon woke up, with only the moon and Venus, of all the stars of the
nightsky, visible in the blue moments of the morning. He left his apartment and headed as quickly as he
could to the strip of field of stones outside the city district, he was supposed to plough before sunrise.
When the chimneysweeper boy saw how big the stones were in this field, he thought: How can I ever
accomplish this task? He was just about to start ploughing, when he noticed the poisonous snakes in the
field.
How can I ever accomplish this task?, shouted Filemon aloud by the side of the field of stones.
Rabbi Lw was aware of the developments over the past night and he showed up at the corner of the field
of stones. But he did not come alone: the fierce Golem, the Man of Rock and Earth stood by his side.
Rabbi Lw gave strict orders to the Golem and the Golem obeyed.
First, Rabbi Lw ordered the Golem: Plough the field! And the Golem ploughed. It took him only a few
seconds to complete the task.
Then Rabbi Lw ordered the Golem: Sow seeds into the field! And the Golem sowed.
Next, Rabbi Lw ordered the Golem: Wet the seeds ofthe field! And the Golem watered the field.
Next, Rabbi Lw ordered the Golem: Warm up the seeds ofthe field so that they start to grow! And so the
Golem blew hot winds from its lungs and a great statue of fire appeared from its mouth, which warmed the
seeds in the field so that they started to grow.
There, my friend! Seeds are already germinating in your field, said Rabbi Lw to Filemon.
Thousands ofthanks to you, my friend!, Filemon joyfully replied.
Thank yourself!, said the Rabbi and smiled.
Slicing fiber of hair
By the time of sunrise, the rooster of the royal palace crowed. Well before sunrise, the prince appeared in
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January 1st, 2012
the courtyard of the royal palace, where the princess waited for both the competitors. The prince was
amazed to see that the chimneysweep had managed to show up in time, and even more amazed to see that
he was as calm and joyous at the same time.
Is the first task accomplished?, asked the princess.
Yes, it is, competitors answered in unison.
In my field, the seeds are already germinating, added Filemon to the great astonishment of the prince.
The prince was so angry when he heard this comment, that he bit his own lip.
Well done, boys. Now we shall move on to the second task, which is to hit a target a single fiber of
hair ofminewith a bow and an arrow. The target shall be placed one-hundred metres away on the other
side ofthis pond in the courtyard. I shall stand next to you on this side ofthe pond and judge, and my
father the King ofBohemia will judge next to the target on the other side ofthe pond. So, let us begin, said
the princess.
The prince was given the first turn. The prince had the advantage in this second task, because at the castle
of the king of Prussia, where he lived, he often had very little else to spend his time except to practice
archery and other skills of warfare. The prince lacked other entertainments in life besides practicing the
skills of warfare. So, now the prince stretched his bow and then shot his arrow with fierce strength. The
arrow flew in a tremendous curve over the pond and finally hit the target, which was one single fiber of the
hair of the princess.
The king shouted from the other side of the pond: Bulls eye! The arrow sliced the single fiber ofhair!
Next, it was Filemons turn. Before he had time to stretch his bow, the prince took two apples from his
bag. He started to eat one and offered the other to the chimneysweep. Take an apple. Its a sign ofmy
friendship, said the prince. But Filemon foresaw that the apple was poisoned, so he just took the apple and
put it into his pocket without taking a bite.
Filemon didnt have much previous experience in archery and so he pondered again how on earth he
would accomplish this demanding task. He could see his reflection on the mirror surface of the completely
calm pond. And next to his own reflection he saw the reflection of his beloved, the princess. Filemon
stretched his bow, and all at once started to feel dizzy. He looked at his reflection and the reflection of the
princess next to it and suddenly it seemed to him that the lengths of these reflections were increasing. The
reflections seemed to reach from the side of the pond where he, the princess, and also the prince stood, to
the other side where the king was.
Suddenly the princess whispered: Shoot! And so, the chimneysweeper boy shot his arrow. He tried to
avoid hitting the surface of the pond. His arrow, too, flew in a tremendous curve to the other side of the
pond where from was heard a peculiar chinking sound.
Bulls eye, twice over! The arrow sliced the previous arrow, and at the same time, it also sliced the fiber
ofhair!, the king shouted from the other side of the pond.
After this episode, the princess was very pleased, Filemon was relieved and the prince was even angrier.
So, let us move forward to the third and final task, said the princess.
Season of Roses
You have 'til the rooster crows at daybreak to accomplish the last task, which is to bring me a red rose
from the garden ofthe royal palace. The garden is surrounded by three-hundred metres high wall ofstone
and the only entrance is guarded by the strongest man in Bohemia. In the garden, there are three roses: the
first one is white, the second one is red, the third one is black. The one who brings me the white rose shall
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January 1st, 2012
be rejected. The one who brings me the red rose I shall marry. But the one who sees even a glimpse ofthe
black rose shall face Death, most appalling and black. So, be extra careful out there, gentlemen!, said the
princess.
That evening the prince showed up at the entry of the garden of the royal palace. The strongest man in
Bohemia stopped him. The prince shouted angrily: Move away from the entry! Ifyou dont move away, I
will cut your throat when I am king. But ifyou do move away, I shall give you a golden ducat. The
strongest man in Bohemia, shocked to hear this, moved away from the entrance. So, the prince gave the
man a golden ducat, which the man put it in his pocket.
But beware ofthe black rose because it might cost you your life!, said the strongest man to the prince,
when he passed him.
Nonsense! Thats only one superstition!, scoffed the prince.
Inside the walls, the prince saw the rose garden. And truly, there were three, no more and no less. One was
white as snow, one was red as blood, and one was black as ebony. The prince cut the stem of the white
rose and also of the red one, leaving behind only the black rose. He thought: I shall leave the black rose
for you, chimneysweep. That shall be the omen ofyour fate, because when I become king, I shall cut your
throat! And with that thought, the prince left the rose garden.
That same evening, Filemon arrived in front of the three hundred metres high wall of stone, which
surrounded the garden of the royal palace. The boy did not wish to dare challenge the strongest man in
Bohemia guarding the doorway into the garden, and so he concluded it was safer to enter by climbing over
the wall. This is very a dangerous task, Filemon thought. It will take the whole night to climb to the other
side ofthe wall and to climb back over with the rose. As chimneysweep, Filemon was experienced in
climbing up to high places, so he wasnt afraid of heights. By midnight, he reached the top of the wall and
started back down the other side.
Two hours later, Filemon descended safely to the ground of the garden of the royal palace. He blindfolded
himself with a scarf hed brought with him so as to avoid seeing the black rose, and walked towards the
rose garden. He fumbled about the roses and at the same time wondered: How on earth will I be able to
recognize the rose ofthe right colour without my eyesight?
Filemon realized he could feel with his hands there was only one rose in the rose garden, so he had no
other chance but to take this one. He cut the stem and folded the rose into a bundle of cloth. As he made
his leave from the garden, it began to rain. The rain was very heavy, thunder roared, and lightning struck.
In a matter of seconds, Filemon and his clothes were drenched.
When Filemon returned again to the three-hundred metres high wall of stone, he decided to take a closer
look at his find. He thought: Let it not to be the black rose! But when he opened the bundle of cloth, at
first he didnt see anything else but black darkness, because it was night and there was heavy storm. Then
in at flash of lightning, he believed he glimpsed the rose in his handit was the most beautiful purple red
rose of all time! This vision of a red rose gave Filemon renewed energy. He folded the rose into the bundle
of cloth and started climb back over the wall, which was all wet and slippery and very dangerous.
The next morning, the prince showed up once again very early in the courtyard of the royal palace. He
handed his rose to the princess, the red rose that he had found in the rose garden of the royal palace the
previous evening.
Thank you, said the princess and curtseyed.
A few seconds later, Filemon too showed up in the courtyard. He also had a rose to give to the princess.
Thank you, said the princess. She curtseyed and added: You knew, my Love!
But isnt that the black rose that the chimneysweep handed you?, asked the prince in a very annoyed
tone of voice.
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January 1st, 2012
At that moment, Filemon realized, in truth, he had handed the black rose to the princess. He was extremely
shocked and almost fainted. But next, the princess said in a very calm voice: Let us look closer and see.
The princess took a jug of water and dipped the red rose of the prince into the water: The rose went in red,
but came out white. Next, the princess took the Filemons black rose and dipped it into the water: The rose
went in black, but came out red. Then she said to them both: Look, boys: Originally, there wasnt such
thing as the black rose in the royal rose garden. But there were only two white roses and one red rose.
One ofthe white roses I painted red with watercolours. And on top ofthe red one, I sprinkled some soot so
that it looked black. But there can be only one conclusion from all ofthis: the red rose was brought to me
by Filemon the chimneysweep and so my heart belongs to him. And the proposal ofthe prince shall be
rejected. That is all.
After hearing these words, the prince became furious. I have been betrayed!, he shouted angrily. Then
he took his golden sword in his hand and thrust it straight through the heart of the princess, shouting: You
promised your heart, so I shall take it now! The princess collapsed dead on the ground.
When Filemon saw this, he thought: My beloved is dead. I dont want to live anymore. Then he
remembered about the apple the prince had given him the previous day. It was still in his pocket. Filemon
took the apple from his pocket and took a bite. Then he collapsed dead on the ground because, truly, it was
poisonous.
A few seconds later Rabbi Lw showed up in the courtyard. The fierce Golem was with him. When Rabbi
Lw saw, what had happened, he instructed the Golem: Hit him down to the ground. The Golem instantly
took the sword from the hand of the prince and cut off his head from the shoulders with one tremendously
powerful stroke. The prince collapsed on the ground next to the others. Next, Rabbi Lw crouched down
over the princess, took a dose of miracle salve from his bag and rubbed it into the princess wound. A few
seconds later, the princess arose. But when she saw her beloved Filemon dead on the ground next to her,
she started to cry.
Can you help my sweetheart, O Rabbi Lw?, asked the princess with tears on her cheeks.
Im truly sorry, but my salve doesnt cure poisons, answered Rabbi Lw.
The princess picked up from the ground the black rose that Filemon had given her, placed it on his chest,
crouched down over him, and gave him a kiss on his lips. A miracle happened: Filemon rose up from the
dead as he had only been sleeping and gave a kiss to the princess in return.
The princess and Filemon the chimneysweep kissed each other for a very long time and both were very
happy.
The Wedding
In the last days of that very summer, there was a great wedding, where princess Isabella and Filemon were
wedded in holy matrimony. Both the princess and Filemon said I do, in front of all the congregation and
also to the face of God Almighty. The people of Bohemia were delighted to see two lovers have each
other in love. After the wedding ceremony in the church, there was the greatest party of all times in
Kingdom of Bohemia. During the party Filemon sang an old song. This is how it went.
There is a black rose hidden in the garden ofthe old castle
and the story goes that ifsomeone finds this rose
that one shall face perdition because oflove
Once in the shadows ofthe night, I walked in the garden
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January 1st, 2012
and then I was given to see the black rose

the one which enchants the human mind
and while I sensed its magic powers
I picked up this gift ofdeath
On that night, a storm arose and lightning struck with heavy rain
and I was given to see a wonderful dream ofa lady
who took my heart
And every night this dream comes to me
and my heart is exhausted with kisses
Unwithered, this black rose is still on my table
because ofmy love, it stays unwithered
until it takes my young life
The princess and the chimneysweep lived happily ever after and they had many children together. They
loved each other for-ever-more. And nothing in this world could break them apart: not humans, not angels
and not dominions or principalities or powers.
After the wedding, Rabbi Lw also raised the prince from the dead with his miracle salve, because he
wanted to avoid war between the two kingdoms, Bohemia and Prussia. The prince returned home to
Prussia very angry. When the prince became king of Prussia, he was still so angry that he started the war
anyway.
But that is a whole other story.
Jarkko Pylvs is a university student in in Western

Central Finland and a journalist. He's studying World
history and Semitic languages and cultures and, as
such, has studied Hebrew, Coptic, and Greek, as well
as theology and exegetics. One of his latest articles
dealt with Human Rights in Russia, namely the
Freedom of speech, or lack there of. He has written
several other articles on the environment and other
Human Rights issues around the globe.
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Jacob Lindaman
January 1st, 2012
Citra
by
Jacob Lindaman
. . . for as the past replays in our present, we know our world is still fallen. Anno Domini 2540
(from a message in a bottle, netted at 5243'N, 3015'W by Able Seaman Tanner, aboard the
science carrier Sea Lily)
Youre not afraid are you? I asked Harry.
Of what? The island? No way. I dont believe in that stuff, he said maintaining a perfect focus on
the sea.
Even though scores of ships have disappeared there?

Happens all the time. It is a major commercial route used by ships all the time. Only the
ships that disappear make the headlines.
Yeah, but not since Atlantis appeared near
You are calling it that?
What? Atlantis?
No one knows what that thing is, and it sure as hell aint no Atlantis.
I suppose you're right, I relented, but when an island rises from the sea and lots of
ships go missing at the same time, it raises a lot of questions, dont you think?
Harry let his steady, seaward gaze answer for him. Slowly, the Nina drove across the
Pacific Ocean towards a patch of sea near where the island had appeared. It was a festering
hive for pirates and lawless men of the sea. Westin, the captain of the Nina , figured the bounty
would be an easy score. Two dozen ships had gone missing over the course of the last week. It
was rumored for years that sailing vessels commonly disappeared after they set out to cross the
ocean. Once the island was discovered, some speculated that it must be the reason for the
disappearances. Whatever the reason the captain was set on course to engage the mystery with
his navy of privateers.
Westin was a tough brute, but had contacts in the various places in the world many would
fear to tread. At first, I reasoned that he knew what was up. Perhaps some pirates had formed a
loose league of belligerent derelicts. There would be a small skirmish with the crew of the Nina
becoming victorious. The apprehended captain would be delivered to international forces, and
we would receive our bounty. However, when we entered Bandlers Bay, the last known port on
any map, my suspicion changed. Not a boat could be found. The village was all but abandoned.
We stocked our rig with already pilfered supplies and went on. A day passed. We
discovered another smaller port in similar condition. We had not been through this part of the
world in some time it seemed. The oddest thing about this was that there was no evidence of
battle or fighting. Everything was simply gone.
I asked Harry, Why dont they just send out one of their flying devices to photograph this
place?
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Jacob Lindaman
January 1st, 2012
Marcus, you think too much. Ill betcha they already have and they already know what
the trouble is. Not worth them coming out to do all the work themselves so they offer up a little
carrot to get all the bounty men excited. Let us do their work for them. Thats how they are.
Im not sure. This is odd.
The sun provided its warmth perhaps more than we would have wished, but it was better
than searching for deserters of a southern army on the newly discovered route. The weather was
fair and the air was fresh which was more than most sailors could ask for.
I spotted the occasional dolphin or whale and pointed this out to Harry who was
unimpressed. Years of fighting had, I supposed, wrestled down the goodness of his soul into a
blistered little knot. He wanted action, and I could tell. Sometimes I think he looked upon me as a
child for my youthful appreciation of the sea and all that she had to offer, but other times I think
that he had really been jealous of me. For it was I who had saved the captain from the clutches
of death. I had been on the Nina longer than him and it was I who lopped a mans head off his
neck just as he was about to plunge his own sword through Harry.
Nevertheless, Harry was a member of the Nina just like me and together we fought and
together we plundered. It was then, after an unsatisfying meal, that I first heard the sound. We all
heard it. It seemed every man was immediately upon the deck listening. A soft song gilded the
air. A tender voice dropped her leaflets of beauty into our ears. The sound was unlike anything I
had ever heard. It was so pure, so graceful and yet so seductive. The power coming from the
little voice crossed untold miles from its source.
Soon Westin changed course, and we were following the voice. We picked up speed. Our
galley crashed through waves. The water sprayed high, but we pressed onward. By morning, we
were passing through floating debris. We found the coast and hugged tightly. We were going to
Colossal Rocks, the southern most geographic location on any chart in our possession. We were
close.
Many ships had run aground on the island. Some I could see were the very ships that had
been reported missing from years ago. There were other ships, too, but I did not then know how
there had been so many in such a small space.
By now, I could tell we were close to whatever it was. A chorus of delicate voices called
from just beyond the horizon. The melody was sweet to our sea stricken souls, but it was
something no man should bear. It was a sweetness that became bitter, but the longer we
listened the more we desired it.
Few noticed, except for me, the sharks churning about in the water below. Some gnashed
at the floating rubbish hoping to fill their stomachs. They followed and, as I watched, I swear by
my life that I saw a mighty shadow stir beneath them all. Something enormous that if it so
desired could eat each one of the sharks in a single gulp. I prayed to my God this was not his
leviathan sent to torment the peoples of the earth. I hadnt the time to listen for his response
when someone shouted, There, up ahead!
Every eye focused on the same thing. A little, rocky cliff jutted out from the sea and upon
this perch came the dear voices that so teased our hearts. I tried to resist, but I could not.
Everyone was in a sort of a trance. The man who had yelled walked forward as if to get closer
until he fell overboard. Others followed hoping to be the first to ascend the cliff.
We crashed with a thunderous clang of metal and rock scraping against each other. We
were thrown forward. Some of the men were fortunate enough to have grabbed the railing.
Others, like me, were thrown forward to the ground. I found myself on the beach pinned beneath
a large beam and had hit my head, causing a bloody mess.
Once the commotion stopped, I gathered myself to see that the rest of the crew was
already off the ship advancing toward the cliff. Jubilantly, they clamored on top of each other
fighting for position.
As I tried to wrestle myself free, I saw many decayed and rotting things lying upon the
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Jacob Lindaman
January 1st, 2012
rocky beach. I supposed that they had been bodies at one point, but now they were simply
empty carcasses feeding the birds. The chorus of voices was much more distinct now. There
were many of them, and they were all womanly. To this day, I know not what language they sang,
but my, how their words seemed so sweet to my ear!
The main group of men had reached the rocky ledge and began climbing. My eyes
searched ahead of them. There, strewn upon its peak, were dozens of savage women singing.
Now I could tell that each was singing her own song and somehow it fit within the song of the
others to create a convulsing harmony that pierced my heart as nothing had before.
As they neared, I saw that these were no mere women. Their naked beauty was great,
but their grandeur was magnificent. Some had hair of gold and some of silver. Others had skin of
bronze and still others appeared to be made of ivory. The wildest feature of their appearance
was that not only were they women, but a good portion of them had the feet and feathers of a
bird. The others who did not fly were mermaids resting upon the rocky ground. I thought I was in
someone elses dream for I had never imagined such a thing.
One of the womenbirds jumped to the sky and picked up a man with her talons digging
into his flesh. With a laugh, she tossed him over the edge and into the sea. Then another
womanbird pecked straight through a mans chest. She opened her beak, tearing him to pieces.
All of the womenbirds took to the sky, but still the men pressed each other lured by the
song of the enchanting mermaids. I would willfully have gone had I not been trapped. I watched
as my crew was mindlessly hastening to their deaths. Then I realized that I had to do something.
They would soon find me helpless beneath this pile of rubble. And still, a part of me wanted to be
discovered.
The massacre continued along with their singing. I could do nothing except lie there in the
hot burning sun, listening to their cries. I gave up. I waited. After much of the day had passed
and night had come, I shut my eyes and prayed again. I asked that God would take me quietly
and quickly. I asked for an honorable death, but, subject to the circumstances, I said that I would
be satisfied with a painless one instead.
Time weathered on causing me to doubt my senses. It had been a long time since I had
drink and I had lost quite a bit of blood from the wound on my head and from my leg, which was
still pinned beneath the beam. I forbade the thought of rescue as I knew it was hopeless.
Instead, I turned my thoughts to the afterlife and what treasures await me there. So much joy I
hoped I would find. There would be many friends, and I would find out how many famous people
in history had placed their faith in Jesus Christ. Would there be food and books? Would I get to
play cards with my brothers? My mind wandered on for some time. I realized I had become
delusional, but I allowed myself the luxury of not thinking about the inevitable. Still, their song
continued.
In the shadowy moonlit night, I saw a creature approach from the waters. Likely, it was a
mermaid. It slithered on clumsily until it was aware of my presence. Then it changed direction
coming directly towards me. My time had come. I prepared to die and kindly reminded God that it
would probably be best for me to die with as little pain as possible.
The creature crawled upon me knowing that I was helpless. I could feel the wet warmth of
her body touching mine. I waited in agony for her to strike. Was she to stick her fangs into my
neck? Or perhaps dismember me and make me watch her eat my flesh? My heart tried to beat
faster, but there was just not enough blood. I was fading quickly.
As she placed her head just above mine, I saw dangling between her two breasts the
silver light of the moon reveal the shape of a cross. My throat squelched an awkward sound, and
I thought I gave up the ghost. All was black and quiet.
When I awoke, I was at first surprised that Heaven should have such an earthly beach.
Then the throbbing pain in my leg reminded me that I was in fact alive. The sun had warmed the
sand and thoroughly baked my skin. The rest of my body remained intact from any supposed
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Jacob Lindaman
January 1st, 2012
attack by the fiend. What remained of my clothes were useless tatters.

I sat up and examined my surroundings. A small cache of supplies from some wreckage
had washed up on shore next to me. A trail of unwashed tracks led from me to the sea. In my
panicked state, I had crawled from the water to rest upon the easy shores of the beach.
I made for the supplies, but found it impossible to move because of my leg. I cried out in
pain and fell to the ground. Sitting up again, I examined my wound. It was bad. A gash ran deep
across my calf. I bent down to my right side and rubbed my finger along the opening. It was wet,
but not with blood or pus. A lathery exudate had formed a whitish seal. It hurt like hell, I tell you.
Unable to walk, I determined to crawl to the supplies. First, I thought of my thirst. Then
realizing that I was neither thirsty nor hungry, I began to search for any items that may aid my
ambulation. Luckily, I found a single crutch and a sack of dried food. I stuffed them in a backpack
along with a flare gun, thermos, first aid equipment and some other items I deemed necessary
for wilderness survival.
Before moving on, I remembered the Lord who had so graciously spared my life and my
suffering. I thanked him as I have never thanked him before. Never have I been so grateful to be
alive and mending. Never have I spent so much time petitioning so great a God.
Getting up from the sand, I looked and there out in the shallows of the sea was a little
head bobbing up and down with the waves. It was her. She had been watching me the entire
time. She must have realized that I had noticed her, for immediately after she spun around
tossing her colorful array of fins high into the air and disappeared beneath the sea. Perhaps it
was she who had saved me and not my own panicked efforts.
I hobbled along the beach to make camp and ready myself for any future attack by her or
anything else. Night came after a long and lonely day spent in much worry. I lit a campfire, but
after it had been going for some time, I thought it was not necessary. I was neither famished nor
freezing and I did not want to attract any attention.
When morning arrived, I sought to get a better lay of the land. I spied a tall tree not far
away still on the beach. Once mounted, I looked out over the tiny island. The waters were clear.
The weather was tropical. Unhindered, I could probably walk the entire circumference in half a
day. A portion to the west, I could not see, as other palms grew too tall.
While examining the island with a small set of binoculars, I saw, from the corner of my
eye, a sparkle from the ocean. I looked to find a shipping vessel. It was a merchant vessel of
unknown origin. I shot a flare into the sky and readied another shot. The sun came at such an
angle that I was able to reflect the light off the lens of the binoculars towards the ship.
After thirty minutes, she must have seen me for she turned toward the island. I waited a
little longer and shot another flare. With haste, I made my way to the opposite end of the island
from where I had arrived. A crew was sent out to pick me up in a lifeboat.
On board, I spoke to the captain who spoke a rougher sort of English than I had heard
before. He informed me that he were on his way to Eastlia, a land I had never before heard of,
until a storm rose from nowhere and blew them off course. He was transporting men in the navy,
as Eastlia was soon to send ships to confront the problems arising from Atlantis.
When I heard that his people were also subject to the mysteries of Atlantis, I was
shocked. I asked him how long they had known of it. He confirmed that rumors started at about
the same time as those in Fanti.
You do not know what evil you seek, I advised him.
What do you mean? You know what lies ahead?
I do. I have seen the terror these men will find.
You neednt tell me, young man. For it is not for me to know. I am merely the
deliveryman. This precious cargo must make its own choice.
That may be true, but they will not survive. It is not possible.
And yet you survived. So, there must be hope for the people of the Earth.
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Jacob Lindaman
January 1st, 2012
I did not choose to survive. If I could, I would have willingly picked death just as my
brothers chose death.
Take him away, he said to an officer. He is tired and in need of rest.
I was given my own cabin and washroom. It was small, but no more inconvenient than
the Nina had been. I made due with what I had.
The following morning, I was given news that the captain had joyfully found familiar
landmarks and would soon dock in Eastlian ports in only a matter of hours. I was surprised, as
they had been drifting aimlessly for days underneath cloudy nights.
In the middle of the night, we dropped anchor and began unloading. Prior to my
departure, the captain sent for me to meet him in his personal cabin.
Yes sir?
He stared at a candlelit paper saying nothing.
Did you call for me, Captain Butan?
Mr. Stone, he said in his deep sailor voice, I do not care much for bounty hunters such
as yourself. However, I have arranged for you to be transported to the Eastlian Navy. You are to
provide insight into their mission.
So, you do believe me!
Yes, I do.
Then why didnt you let me finish?
Because I did not want you to scare the men. You know how rumors start and morale
closely follows. This mission is important to the welfare of the nation. They need their confidence
high. Do not undermine this. I do not know of the horrors you have seen nor do I wish to, but I
believe that if anyone is to eradicate this evil it is the Eastlian Navy. For they are the strongest
the world over.
I am afraid that I must agree. Fanti has scant naval power and much of this has been
reduced over the years to rusty vessels and missing ships.
If you like, you may wait here in my cabin and dine with me. Afterward your personal
envoy should arrive to take you away.
On board the Mainstay, I recommended to the captain that each of his men be given
earplugs or headphones to cancel out the noise once we got close. He agreed and the order
was made for each man to wear headphones. Officers were given whatever microphones were
available. After a few days, we neared our target. One sailor used a device to measure the
frequencies of the air. He confirmed that there was sound that could be singing. The vessel
moved onward. A million pounds of Eastlian naval might surround the ship with enough firepower
to blow away any of the islands they crossed.
After plowing through smaller cargo barges and rafts, the Mainstay was within striking
distance. Another scouting vessel received visual confirmation that there were odd creatures on
the island. Many of them.
This was to be a land assault. The unfortunate went in first. Unsure what to expect, the
first few were torn to bits by the flying women. Then after getting a feel for the battle, they began
shooting from strategic positions. The creatures wailed which must have signaled for more to
come from the forest. Soon, the sky was darkened by the blooddrunken ravages of those
demons. The support ships provided cover. The warships boomed their canons into the distance
taking down anything within earshot of the forest.
By the time the sun went down, it was all over. The might of the Eastlian Navy had
decimated the sirens. I watched as several of the womenthings were captured, drugged, and
brought aboard.
Bastards, the captain muttered under his breath. Let me see them, he said to an
officer.
They are not secured yet.
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January 1st, 2012
Tell me when they are ready.

It will be just a few minuteahI am getting word now that all the sirens on our vessel
have been secured.
He led us down a maze of narrow stairs into a cargo hold in the belly of the warship.
There were four sections that had been converted into prisons. I eyed them through the steel
bars. There were two birds and two mermaids.
The captain walked up to the first mermaid and spat on her face. He shouted obscenities
until his face was red. Disgusted, he left with his cohorts following close behind. Soon, the ship
began moving.
What will become of these? I asked the guard next to me.
They will be used for experimentation. They will be studied so that we can better
understand the enemy if there is ever a next time.
I see. I suppose that is best. I hope they suffer pain equal to that which they have
caused.
He gave me a nod and braced himself as the ship rocked from one side to the other.
Seeing them up close for the first time was, in my experience, quite a solemn sight. They were
bigger than I had expected. From head to fin, each was probably twenty feet or so, but this is
misleading for their fins were very long and ornate. The entire body of each creature would have
been perhaps ten or twelve feet from the head ending at the base of the body where feet could
have been. It was to this great size that I attributed the one mermaids extra strength thus
enabling her to lift the beam from my wounded leg.
The birdwomen were just as striking. They were about the same length or height I
suppose it is, but covered with tiny feathers. I would almost consider these feathers down had I
not seen them fly.
All four of the creatures in the cages rolled around carelessly as the anesthesia kept them
immobile. Upon the next heave of the ship, one of the mermaids rolled onto her back. There I
saw beneath a mass of spat upon sunbleached hair a necklace adorned by a little silver cross.
I could not believe the sight. I stepped closer. The guard paid me little attention, as the
creature was unconscious. I leaned against the bars and waited.
It must have been a full day, but I waited. When she finally awoke she was, naturally,
startled, and I should add stunningly beautiful. When she realized who I was, she was startled all
the more. I slid one of the earphones just a little off my ear so I could hear her should she speak,
and speak she did.
What are you doing here? she asked. What am I doing here? Ah, my scales! They are
so dry. She slumped to the floor in pain.
Here. I handed her a wet towel and a drink. When she had soaked herself, I presented
another wet towel.
This is a little better. Thank you. She looked up at me curiously. Like so many things
about this creature, her eyes were unlike any I had ever seen before. They sparkled with a
radiant cerulean. Her iris was square much like a goat. Her skin glimmered with silver sparkles
cast upon a silky golden skin. She wetted her long curly hair and draped it over her body. Each
wrist was covered in many bracelets and trinkets. Her fins were adorned with opulent colors
forming little arches or bows. Her scales were a translucent blue. I stared for much too long
thinking I could see through them. The longer I examined her the more I was certain that I could
see the faded outlines of human legs beneath her scales.
Why are you here? she asked me again.
Why did you save me?
She paused unable to vocalize her next thought. She looked away and then once again
our eyes met. Her hand played with the cross around her neck. I watched youon the ship. You
looked into the face of deep and were scared. I saw you pray. When your vessel crashed, I
Citra
Jacob Lindaman
January 1st, 2012
looked for you, but you were not with the rest of your men. I saw you pray a second time after I
had rescued you. Tell me, should I have let you die?
Does a mermaid pray?
This one does, she said with stern affirmation.
Why are you not like the rest?
Could I ask you the same? She must have seen that I was confused at this point. She
softened a little, but I sensed that she did not entirely trust me. I am Citra. What is your name?
Marcus.
Marcus, same as the Bible.
The Bible? Tell me Citra do mermaids have souls to worship God?
We are not as different as you may think, Marcus. We mermaids are just as human as
you.
A mermaid with a soul?
Our history is mired in the distant past much like yours. Some say that we are a cursed
race of the offspring of Cain. Some say we are products of Noahs twisted children who kept
forbidden knowledge of the antediluvian world.
What do you think?
I know that my spirit yearns to worship my savior with passion and with song.
Do you think it possible that our Gods are different Gods?
Perhaps, but you should know that if your god is not the creator, the trinity, born of a
virgin, died sinless upon a cross, rose from the dead, and will someday soon come back for you,
then you do not have the proper God.
I cant believe it! We share the same faith in Christ. This is why you do not sing like the
other sirens?
Yes, there are few of us who have such a faith. My sisters have retained that perpetual
evil nature inherited from certain mystical knowledge. Perhaps, as some say, from the days
before Noah. I know what they know, but I dare not practice what they practice.
My dear sister Citra, surely you have a soul and a heart of compassion. Your beauty is
exquisite. Thank you for saving me from a miserable death. I owe you my life. Fellow Christians
are few and far between. At least ever since the continents sank or so I am told.
Sister? she whispered to herself. Sister? You called me sister. What do you mean?
If we both have souls that are salvageable and we both worship the same God, then we
are his. We are his children, and that means you are my sister in Christ.
I have never thought of that before. I have always been ashamed of my sisters who
torment mankind. I have never liked the word, but I like the way you say it better. Say it again.
Our conversation turned to deeper things like love, grace, and hope. I was surprised to
learn that she was an outcast. Perhaps I should not have been for she was kind and graceful
and her sisters were devilish. After she had committed atrocious acts for many years, she
became burdened with guilt. Fear entered her heart, which in turn led her to the saving
goodness of God. She had seen at least two centuries, and for the better part of the last one,
she had lived a reformed life in loneliness. Refusing to participate in the evil deeds of her sisters,
they shunned her.
When I asked about the island, she said that she carried me a great distance across the
sea with a few small supplies so that I would be far away from the carnage that was taking place.
The island was her own. No others were supposed to access it. She left in haste as she was
uncertain how much of herself she should reveal to me. Once she saw me board the other ship,
she knew that I was safe.
I inquired further as to how she could carry me and all those supplies so far in such short
amount of time. She smiled as if she were a girl again who had a secret. A friend had helped her,
but she would not reveal any more than that.
Citra
Jacob Lindaman
January 1st, 2012
We talked well into the night. I told her of my life on the sea, raiding vessels hostile to
Fanti and living off loot and bounty payments. She was fascinated by the places I had seen. For
much of her life she has longed to travel the seas to distant lands, but her people forbade her.
She kept mostly to herself near her island until Atlantis rose from the deep and the continents
succumbed to the depths of the oceans. That had changed everything.
A great evil was rising from the depths of the sea, and it ruled from Atlantis. She knew
much more about the new island than any human. A sea serpent ruled all the kingdoms of the
sea from an underwater mountain. He was dark and scaly. His fangs were sharp, and he spoke
fire. All feared to enter his mountain, even the sirens. Then, not long ago, he began summoning
many of them. In time, there were many more sirens populating the seas than there ever had
been before. She could only suspect that he was propagating them for his own desires. She had
refused her summons, and in this, God had dealt graciously with her. The sea serpent sought
her out, but could not find her. Angered, he was able to trick her and in so doing caste a spell on
her, silencing her voice unless she sing for him.
But you speak, I said.
No, she hung her head, my real voice. I am a mermaid designed to sing the praises of
my savior, but I live in quietness for I have not sung any song for near half a century.
She became somber when speaking of the curse. So, I asked what happened to the
serpent.
Over time, he called many wicked creatures to his throne. The sea is filled with hidden
evils that your people are just beginning to witness. When he was finally ready to start his
assault on man and spite God, he stirred the waters of the deep. His fortress rose through the
sea until he reached the sky. That is the island you call Atlantis.
Satans throne is on Atlantis?
You must never go there, Marcus. He will devour you with great torment. His creatures
of darkness will hunt you and peck you and eat you joyfully.
In all his glory, he still cannot even create anything of his own.
I do not understand you, she said.
He had to take something good that God had made and twist it into something bad.
Ah, you have an interesting thought I have never before considered.
You must always remember that God is greater than any evil. It is by his grace that evil is
allowed to exist at all. By his grace, their judgment is delayed.
It seems I have spent too much time in the darkness of the sea. I would like to spend
some time with you in the light. Tell me more, Marcus, of this God we share.
As long as I could, I stayed by her side. I left only to relieve myself and get more food and
water. The guards were cautious but lenient so long as I did not do anything suspicious.
Late into the night, an alarm sounded and lights began to flash red. The boat swayed to
one side then back. The guards looked at each other and spoke through their microphones.
I have to go, but I will be back. It was a pleasure to speak with you, miss.
I trotted up the stairs to find that one of the sirens on another ship had broken out of her
cell and killed eight sailors. I ran to the deck to see the ship. She was floundering. Fire billowed
from her engine room. An explosion sounded. Then another. I received word that the siren had
been killed, but the ship was a total loss. I watched as every sailor jumped into the night
darkened sea to be picked up by nearby schooners.
On my return to my quarters, I overheard two men discussing their orders. They said the
captain was unwilling to risk losing an entire fleet to please some eager scientists. He had
ordered all experiments to be canceled and every siren destroyed.
My pulse raced like a horse. My mind was thinking a thousand miles a second. I readied
my pistol and hurried to the prison.
I barged through the door to see one of the sirens lying in a pool of blood. Two guards
Citra
Jacob Lindaman
January 1st, 2012
aimed at the second cell and shot several times. Blood spurted from the body high into the air. I
looked on poor Citra as she faced certain death.
The alarms and flashing lights provided enough cover for me to enter the room unnoticed.
Citra said something, but with my headphones on, I could not hear it. Carefully, I took aim with
my pistol, but when I pulled the trigger, nothing happened. I tried again and again nothing.
Without a thought, I tossed the gun and tackled one guard, pushing him into the other. With the
commotion, the second one must have fired for a bullet traveled through the other guard and
pierced my side. I grabbed his gun, but he would not let go. I fell on him with all my weight and
smashed the rifle into his face. He let go, but he was not subdued.
I do not want to kill you. Put on your handcuffs.
Piss off! Who do you think you are?
He rose to his feet and came at me. I pulled the trigger, but the gun did not go off. I looked
up just in time to see a fist land on my cheek. Blood flew from my mouth as I dropped to the
floor.
Only one shot if you dont have the key, stupid.
Seeing I was disadvantaged from my position, he sought the rifle of his fallen comrade.
With a smirk to me, he took aim at Citra. Like a burst of lighting, I shot across the room, taking
him to the ground. A shot fired, but I had no time to see where it went. I raised my fists and
commenced pummeling his face into a bloodied pulp. He offered a few meager jabs at first, but I
was filled with such frenzy, that after the first few punches I knew that he was dead. I continued
until my hands were red with mixed blood.
Then I quickly recollected myself and remembered Citra. I turned, but before I could lay
my eyes on her, I heard her lovely voice, You said you would come back. You did.
Now having the key in my possession, I opened the door. Give me your hand. With her
in my arms, I walked up to the deck. Looking out at the burning chaos around us, she whispered
to me, You will be fine. You are in my hands now. She wrapped her arms tight around me. I
took a step forward to plunge twentyfive feet into the sea.
I could neither see nor understand what lay ahead, but I could feel her arms around my
body. She swam quickly. I could feel the water brush off us. After an hour or two or three, she
came to a stop.
Your wound, I have forgotten about it. Let me see. Cautiously, she examined the entry
point of the bullet. My shirt was ripped and stained red so she tore it off. It was still bleeding, but
only a little. It began to hurt again. With the rush of excitement, I had been able to block it out.
Wait here, she said then disappeared beneath the surface. I tried to float as best I could,
but the pain made it difficult to use the muscles in my side. When she finally returned, she had in
her hand some sort of sea plant. She ripped it to pieces then chewed a handful of it. Once
satisfied, she spat it back into her hand and pressed it into my side. She did this until my wound
was packed full of the stuff. It burned a little, but she said this meant that it was working.
So, we lay there. Just the two of us. The warm waters kept us afloat as we gazed up at
the beautiful starlit sky.
There, she raised her hand pointing, that is the Lion of the Tribe of Judah. And over
there is Mary with the infant Christ. Do you see? I know little of your people, but I do know that
mariners use constellations.
Yes, but we must have different names for them.
What else would you call the lion or the virgin birth?
The ancients called the lion 'Leo' and the virgin 'Madonna and Child.'
That is too bad that your people would corrupt such a wonderful sign.
I like your constellations better. Tell me more.
There were many more signs that she taught me. One glorious name for each pagan
name that I had learned. There were others too, but I could not remember all the new ones.
Citra
Jacob Lindaman
There was the Tower of Babel, the Seven Days of Creation, the Seven Spirits of God, and many
others.
When she told me about a constellation called Mt. Zion, a large mass suddenly lifted us
from beneath. She reached for my hand and smiled. Confused and a little worried I said, What
is going on?
This is my friend, Eallra. He will take us to home.
Is this how you carried me before?
She smiled all the more. So, I was on the back of an enormous creature named Eallra
who was perhaps a whaleshark or perhaps something else. I never did get a good look at him,
and it probably would not matter because, while I know they are big, I do not know what they
look like.
The creature gently delivered us to the beach I had known once before. The first rays of
the morning had broken the sky. I could see a rough outline of about half of the fish. He was jolly
big and dark too. She gave him a kiss goodbye, sending him quietly to the deep whence he
came.
And so we basked in the glorious offerings of this little tropical haven. Days turned to
weeks and weeks into an unnoticeable stream of time. I carried her to the forested interior that
neither she nor any other had ever seen. I held her tenderly for she was very excited to discover
more. She plucked her first mango, sat upon her first tree, and surveyed her island for the first
time from above.
I feel, she declared, for the first time that I am now able to give my island a name,
Brother Marcus.
Together, we made our little home. I would take her for walks through the island and she
would lead me on swimming ventures along the brim of the sea. We made little crowns for each
other out of native brush and furnished our regal stature with a royal cuisine of natures bounty.
I make these words now, in the year of our Lord two thousand, five hundred and forty, on
corroded parchment that somehow drifted my way. May the finder of this bottle be richly blessed
by the Lord Jesus unto salvation. I commit myself now and forever, body and soul, for the
remainder of my days to procure the blessings of my God and savior, the Lord Jesus Christ, and
to care for the delicate blessings he has already bestowed upon me. In the name of Jesus Christ
amen.
Jacob Lindaman is an aspiring writer who desires

to honor Christ through storytelling. He has written two
novels and several
short stories. On hot summer days you can find him
eating corn on the cob,
drinking good beer and listening to the music of Mat
Kearney. He and his wife,
Katey, live in Iowa with their mutt Anni. You can find him
on goodreads.com.

Pedro Blas Gonzlez
Father Charles Teague began the 10:00 a.m. Mass as usual. He entered the church, bowed in front
of the tabernacle, kissed the altar, and sat.
The church was about one third full. After the hymn, he kissed the altar and looked at the
parishioners. He stretched out his arms. The Lord be with you.
During the first reading, he sat and looked out to the front of the church. About two minutes into
the reading, he noticed a man enter the church and sit in the last pew close to the bronze, double doors.
The man seemed to smile at Father Teague. He wore white pants, white shoes, a white shirt with
wide collar, and a white blazer. He had white hair, yet his face was that of a man no older than thirty.
Several minutes later, when Father Teague was breaking the host, he looked out to the parishioners
and noticed the man was now sitting in the first row of pews. A few more minutes elapsed, and the man
once again sat at the back of the church.
At the end of the Mass, Father Teague stood outside the church greeting the parishioners. The man
in white was nowhere in sight. Father Teague looked around the courtyard at the front of the church, but
did not see him.
On his walk back to the rectory, Father Teague began to think about the stranger. He had never
seen the man before at Mass. Perhaps the man was someone who had just moved to the neighborhood. He
also thought, because the man was wearing all white, he might be a member of an occult group. Devotees
of Santeria, Cundumbl, and Voodoo must wear white in order to honor a promise they have made to an
January 1st, 2012
Orisha.
Father Teague took his time walking back to the house. It was a sunny and breezy spring morning.
He paused under a malaleuca tree and peeled off a piece of its paperbark. It occurred to him, that if the
man was indeed a member of an occult group, then clearly, he had no business in a Catholic church. This
thought troubled him.
Father Teague sat on a bench under the tree and took in the soft sunlight. He marveled at the light
dispersed through the tree branches moving with the wind. Taking another piece of bark from the tree, he
imagined every layer of the paperbark to represent a time in his life. He reflected on his childhood,
walking four miles to school roundtrip, every day. He was often late to class because he made a habit of
stopping, much as he had now done, to contemplate the world around him.
As a boy and a young man. he had never taken anything for granted. The order of the world,
manifest in its simplicity, always excited him. Nature, he imagined, did not waste time in revealing its
secrets to those who seek them. And as an adult, Father Teague never liked to waste time. This was one
reason why he'd become a Benedictine monk.
That night, Father Teague had a peaceful sleep. He slept sounder than he had in a long time. He
also dreamt, something he hadnt done in a while.
In his dream, he walked on a road sloped over gentle fields of sunflowers. The fields around him
reminded him of Southern France. Even though, he knew he was walking forward, he simultaneously
entertained a strong sensation of standing still, as if it were actually the fields surrounding him that moved.
In the distance, he saw a white building of nondescript design and colossal proportions. Seven towers
reached to the sky. After several minutes of this vertical, yet surreal, prostrated walking, he realized he
would never reach the building.
The structure in the distance inspired a strange reverence in him. Father Teague quickened his gait
in order to reach it, but to no avail. Another walker approached him, a smiling young man intent on telling
Father Teague about the infinite joys of weightlessness. Father Teague did not understand what the young
man told him, but he felt intensely what the other walker described.
As is often the case in dreams, Father Teague could not remember much about his dream in the
Pedro Blas Gonzlez
January 1st, 2012
morning, but around mid-morning, he did recall some of the details. It dawned on him he'd had this dream
many times before.
The following night, while extinguishing the candles in the church, Father Teague turned around
toward a candle behind him and was startled by the man in white whom he'd seen during Mass the day
before. The man uttered something Father Teague couldnt make out.
Wondering how the man entered the church, Father Teague said, You surprised me. I didnt hear
you come. I thought I had locked the doors.
Your Masses are very inspirational, the man said, smiling.
Ah, thank you. Will you be attending our church in the future? Father Teague asked, not knowing
what else to say.
Ive been attending for a while, the man responded.
I have never seen you here before the other day.
I usually sit at the back. Father Teague, you are a rock. I hope you know your work does not go
unnoticed.
Thank you, thank you very much. Have you moved here from somewhere else, or have you lived
in this neighborhood long? Father Teague asked, feeling the awkwardness of the situation.
All of the time the two men spoke, Father Teague got the impression that the stranger was looking
through him.
The stranger said, Do you remember Pope Gregory Is notion that one must bring the Gospels to
pagans slowly, otherwise they will feel threatened?
Yes, of course.
That is the work of any rock, you know. Unfortunately, the reverse is true in our time. Heathens
and apostates are dismantling the church without unsuspecting, genuine believers knowing it. You, my
good man, and others such as you, are the first to be martyred in the dawning Dark Age that has now
commenced.
No sooner had the man said that than he began to walk away. He turned, looked at the priest, and
smiled. Father Teague bent to snuff another candle, then looked up once again where the man had been.
The man intrigued him, but he could no longer see him anywhere in the church. Neither did he hear the
heavy front doors open or close. He peeked outside and looked for the man, but he was gone.
Father Teague walked back toward the altar and saw a concentrated bright light hovering over it.
Pedro Blas Gonzlez
January 1st, 2012
He then heard the mans voice say, It is done! No longer can mans choice to embrace aberrant
contradictions be solved by free will.
Not being able to tell if the voice was merely in his head or if it was coming from someone nearby,
Father Teague immediately turned around. No one else was inside the church. The light hovering over the
altar was still visible, but it moved further back, closer to the tabernacle. Father Teague stared at the light.
He heard the voice again. I am the seventh messenger, Father. You will easily recall the other six that you
have encountered in your life, once you understand those defining moments in your life.
As soon as the voice faded away, the light gently receded into the tabernacle.
That night, Father Teague saw the news of a great earthquake in San Francisco. He watched the
television images and prayed. Not long after the announcement of the San Francisco quake, the broadcast
was interrupted to inform viewers that many metropolitan areas of the world had experienced strong
earthquakes. One report said more than 90% of Shanghai had been destroyed. Another captured images of
tsunamis swallowing up coastal regions of Pacific islands and South America. He turned off the television
and placed a Bible on his lap. He began praying aloud.
As the minutes passed, Father Teague continued to pray. Then he heard the wind shriek as it rushed
through the old window frames of the rectory. He stood and walked to the window. Strong sheets of winddriven rain blanketed his view of other houses in his vicinity. The lightning intensified. He moved away
from the window.
Lightning illuminated his small living room. Thunder rocked the rectory. The power went out and
Father Teague prayed louder. The wooden frame house began to rattle, intensifying to powerful shaking.
As objects began falling in his home, Father Teague thought about the stranger who had visited the
church. He remembered the six times in his life when he had evaded deathly danger and couldnt
understand how he had come out alive.
Then he experienced the same weightlessness he felt in his dream
Pedro Blas Gonzlez
January 1st, 2012
Pedro Blas Gonzalez is a Professor of Philosophy at

Barry University, Miami Shores, Florida.He has
published about a dozen short stories, a novel and four
nonfiction books.
Pedro Blas Gonzlez

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The Cross and Cosmos

Edited by GL Francis and Glyn Shull

The Black Rose

January 1st, 2012

The Black Rose

Citra and Artwork

The Seventh Messenger

January 1st, 2012

The Cross and Cosmos

Greetings one and all!

January 1st, 2012

The Cross and Cosmos

THE BLACK ROSE

Golden and silver chimneys

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The Cross and Cosmos

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The Cross and Cosmos

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The Cross and Cosmos

You wrote within the sign of Solomon

written on the sand ofground

uncertain, when common people scorned

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The Cross and Cosmos

the Holy Bible and the Holy Talmud

and in his right hand the Sword of the Truth.

likeness ofthe God

You raised the fierce Golem from

the ground just like

Spirit was made of a blow of wind.

day after day bigger and bigger

deteriorating in a spiritual sense, because also Jobs

only the word Met, which means dead in Hebrew.

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The Cross and Cosmos

And so Filemon sang about love.

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The Cross and Cosmos

We have many names for love

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The Cross and Cosmos

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The Cross and Cosmos

the shadowy music

Would the doves

What if I saw a dream

IfI would tell you this dream,

Or are you saying that there is no cure to the crystal tears

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The Cross and Cosmos

into the well

She invited me forth

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The Cross and Cosmos

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The Cross and Cosmos

and disappeared inside the royal palace.

Sow even more snakes! Sow as many as

January 1st, 2012

The Cross and Cosmos

January 1st, 2012

The Cross and Cosmos