Into his cloak I surrendered. All was silent, all was still.
Thine eyes closed and beheld the vision of the white rose, drifting silently upon the river of life.
It moved to and fro upon each passing wave like blood falling from thy chest along the contours of thy enraptured body. And the voice of thy Lord spoketh...
“Thou shalt rise from death into new life. Thou hast been reborn unto the ways of the Akakharu.
The jewels of Asaru thou hast seen and the flames of the dragon hath spoken and thou hath understood.
And this stone, Asaru, shalt become as thou heart. A cold and empty glass, to be filled with the blood of mortals and to be bled unto the Maiden of Life as an offering of thou powers.
...For, the blood is the life...
Let her name be sacred in all thou thoughts and all thou actions and thou shalt live within her, which is to live without.”
“I mayest, my Lord, but of thine own vein doth I naught partake?”
“Yes, my child of thou own vein doth thou partake...which is to partake without.”
And with these words, the Lord of the Artifact, the Lord Ningishzidda, became as mist before thine eyes.
And I looked downward to face the blackened soil, and upon the earth there lay thirteen petals of a white rose.
And upon each petal I beheld a symbol scripted in the sacred tongue (of Sumer) and penned in the blood of our holy communion.
And the petals read ...Dalkhu Zilittu...
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