Tuesday, December 31, 2013
“Who are you, Zosimo Sortiar,” Leo asked, even though the answer was now obvious, just as Mirelle had said it would be.
Zosimo flashed another wide smile. “I’m the brother,” he gloated. “They took the boy, not the girl.” He winked and smirked as if the joke were on “them” for doing so. “I want to be a Lion of Light,” he added. “Are you one of those?”
“I’ve assumed my namesake,” Leo replied. “I don’t know what I’ll become for it, living in exile as it were,” he muttered, adding, “Sofia’s brother?”
“You’re going to be a cult hero, like Jesus—or maybe Lucifer. Something like that,” Zosimo said in childlike verbal gambol.
“A fallen star. Fallen from grace in humiliation,” Leo lilted.
“The same as the rest of us,” Zosimo consoled. “The dust of a falling star fallen. Matter, a cinder, volatile ash poised to be ignited and transformed into its latent potential in pure, fiery light. Ignus natura renovatur integra.You wanted Deep Inner Planes. But they don’t come out of a gum ball machine.”
“I’m not complaining. I’m prepared,” Leo stuttered.
Zosimo grinned thoughtfully. “’Nature in its entirety is regenerated in fire,’” he softly lilted. It was an alchemical adage about the nature of transformation. After going awkwardly mute for a while, Zosimo said, “I’m the brother” again.
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