Once upon a time...Lord Sarapis descended with a shine:

Little Jester, of mine! No killing, no booze, no dope! The all of YOU is more than this realm can stand, with all YOUR soap!

Alright, Lord! What do you expect? YOU made me this way. Is this now to save me? What shall I say???

No more words have been heard. I have to adhere to what I was told.
My soul I have seemingly sold!

So the Soulfinder, a relic crafted by Proteus in ancient times, is not the relief.
Resembling something between a dagger and a dirk, it allows its user to store a bit of people's souls, after which they can be easily located. I am blessed by THE LORD, such a relief!.
The soulfinder has a well-honed steel blade, a simple cross-guard.

Pffz! Right, HE made me engage to such "Cyrenese-Guard. In HIS puzzle, nuffin but a shard!

And the soulfinder has a pommel that ends with a small, rounded cap; otherwize, it is not a very fearsome-looking weapon.

If I would see it, it would be sumfin, I would step on...

HE told me: Remember Child of mine! Remember Vaniah, the Necromancer She has a passion for the study of undeath. And her work focuses solely on it. She spends her time to advance her studies in the Mhaldorian Cathedra.

Right, LORD, when shall I see her?

Little one, remember the Eye of Proteus, when I granted Dawn the gift of immortality, and the ONE became SHE, ithraea, Goddess of the Sun.

Gosh, what is HE talking about? And will I ever have kids, perhaps a son?

Listen closely: it is just like with Miraman occuring mid-spring. Remember, it is symbolized by a set of balanced scales, and people born in this month are said to be of an especially impartial nature. Child, you are blessed with this gift. Your skin shines bright with all it's light.

When will HE, for LOGOS sake, be finished with HIS talk? I gotta go do my Jester-stuff, aight? Plus, my skin is already full of tattoos with please remember this and that  LORD you should have crafted me more fat!

Remember how you made me: quite small, long pink hair sticking up as if it is being pulled up the whole time by an unnatural force. Turquoise eyes sparkling the whole time with amusement, that make others feel like something very hellish is going to happen when I am around. My entire body is ALREADY covered, LORD!!!

Covered with tattoos. Everyone can read the following words: The holy symbol of Apollyon was that of the wheel, usually depicted broken. No, LORD, it was the sound of a band across my heart that has broken, not the wheel. The holy symbols of Twilight are a pair of glowing red eyes surrounded by darkness, the shadowy owl and lamens. No, LORD! The truth is: the Twilight Rose is missing. Eventually, the fog was so strong it coalesced into the form of Sartan, the Malevolent. Squirming sluggishly across the ground, a fleshy maggot creates a trail of foul-smelling slime. Sartan symbols are a black hand crushing a dying sun. No LORD! The truth is: THE SUN will never die!! The holy symbol of Shaitan was an open palm with fingers splayed, on a red background. No LORD! The truth is: The background is green, not red! repulsive smell are reminiscent of rotten meat, a bloated female cockroach, their eyes are a deep yellow, and their beaks black, speckles of blood mar the weed's surface the shrub smells heavily of flesh. malnourished squirrel, unhealthy, all bared below a pair of slitted, golden eyes. Across her chest you read the following: A firecracker arcs high into the sky above you. Calliope was discharged from the guardianship of the Aureliana, allowing her to deliquesce and become whole with Nature once more, MOTHER has returned! A spectral guardsman mutters, "May She stand forevermore." Beware of the number 57780! His true name is Scallywag! A myriad of colours are reflected in the wings of the unique glitterlight butterfly, which legend records transform with every sunrise. You have recovered balance on all limbs, little one. The truth is: The Divine symbol of Neraeos is the hippocampus and a water chestnut. I am a Jester, not Your "holy sword"!

Others shall know about the Creville Asylum, little one. This world will become cold as stone! You have talken to Wildberry.

Right, LORD, I was tending my little Jester-business as usual; met her, as usual of course also touched her but...as IF I am some kind of sweet little cherry!

I am a Jester, I lost my Jack and was on a mission. I was even chatting with Helen Heartless, in charge of the Bureau of Extramarital Affairs in the Tier of Bureaucracy within the Erisian Pyramid, official place of worship of Eris, the Goddess of Chaos, to find my Jack. She had no clue,
just like me  pure chaos...end of the day: it stuck in some hot Neraeian face, purely like glue!.

LORD, I ain't one of The Ebon Fists. I dun strive towards excellence and perfection in the triadic beliefs of the mind, body and soul. What kind of bad-ass idea do YOU have with my role?

I dun have "incendiary wings of liquid magma". I am born as sumfin else without wings. All YOUR hopes? My heart, good LORD, it stings!

I ain't Shura, Mistress of Games. I am only mortal  with all my shames!

I aint a hero within this world. Nor am I a logical and practical female, such as Phoebus Mithraea, Ardoris Sidere, the Goddess of the Sun. I am YOUR child and I know YOU will not, being honest as I am, praying these words towards YOU, now spank me on my bum.

LORD understand: yes I will understand that YOU wish for me not to kill, not to do in drugs and not to drink. Nuffin, that will make my little Jester-heart sink!

With all respect: can we PLEASE stop this chat now? I will also leave YOU with my best greatest Jester-bow! Thank YOU, bless YOU and please do not appear to soon again to me. I have other things in this great lovingly world to see, mind me.

End of the story? NEVA!


Penned by my hand on the 21st of Mayan, in the year 913 AF.