Parables of Samos — The Prince Of Pain (Chapter III)

“Who standeth to the fore of my most painful land?”

The Prologue

Metaforeas began the preparations before proceeding to the Palace of Desire, and Samos further understood the nature of Hell. He understood that it is not defined by a God’s presence in a place of suffering, but instead their belief that suffering is present. This Palace was the whereabouts of Karyoti, The Prince Of Pain.

Karyoti and Metaforeas are a pair of Gods that liken the relationship between Samos and Marqus. From their heavenly conception, they had grown together and learned together. More importantly, they had become themselves together. All though all Gods are children of the All-Father, these two, unlike any others, were brothers.

When Karyoti and Metaforeas had bestowed upon their expressions the wisdom of a ruler, the All-Father offered both of them to bid to his deliverance. However, only Metaforeas

chose to make the blessed Angelport his home. Karyoti had asked our Father for a different purpose, wherein a different lesson would be learned. This was the lesson of pain.

After Metaforeas left for The Academy, Karyoti returned to his home. Karyoti would lay inside his silent and empty palace, and ponder what could make him feel a suffering so immense, that no God would ever dare to step inside his world of pain. Karyoti was a brilliant God, with many talents and wondrous magic that our Father granted him. Many stories ago, Karyoti ventured to find Adessa, The Keeper of Time, so that he could learn from her the mysteries of this one, eternal moment all Gods seemed to live within.

After what seemed a century of lessons, Karyoti realised that it was never a century that was known, but one single moment, wherein the illusive belief in a century of memories was remembered. After Karyoti’s return to his desolate palace, he knew enough of both the magic of belief and the illusion of time, that he could create the most excruciating state a God will ever know. This... is the Palace of Desire, where Gods go to strengthen their will and weaken their indulgences.

The Suffering

Karyoti announces, “Welcome back, Metaforeas! Welcome to my wonderful Palace of Desire!” Metaforeas chuckles, “Oh brother, this palace doesn’t seem to share in your aversion to change, for it differs in design with every visit!” Karyoti agrees, “Just wait till you’re inside! Now, who do we have here? Come forth. I am Karyoti, The Prince of Pain! Who standeth to the fore of my most painful land?”

Metaforeas begins, “Let me introduce you to my guests, Samos, Marqus and Madera! Samos’ chattering is usually never-ending, but by his own request, I invited him into my chamber of beliefs, so there is much to concern his mind.” Karyoti laughs, “Ah, that forsaken chamber of yours! You always did enclose me in your spells when Father wasn’t.... for the lack of a better word, aware of your delinquency! Nevertheless, welcome Samos, Marqus and Madera! I hope you regret your visit and hope to never return. Welcome to the only place with more gold than Hell, and more suffering than in prayer. Welcome to the Palace Of Desire!”

Samos steps forth, “Thank you, Karyoti! I am indebted to Metaforeas for his help on my most worthy adventure, that I create a world of lessons for the lost children of our Father. Hast thou heard of my intentions in your Palace? Perhaps our Metaforeas has shared with you the purpose of my visit?” Karyoti responds, “All that I know, is that you were brought by Metaforeas, and such acquaintanceship is no easy feat. Our Father knows how few Gods have successfully made it through my brother’s chamber of beliefs, so your sustained presence is most surprising! So tell me, Samos, why are you at my beautiful Palace of Desire, where Gods come to suffer?”

Samos looks to the Palace, “To say the least, I am here to learn from you, my dear Karyoti. It seems that I had made many assumptions before I set out on this journey, all of which have been put to sleep with the forthright kindness of our Metaforeas. Fortunately, I am now able to see that which could not be seen before, and I realise how little I know of pain as if I would even dare include its most worthy lessons in my world, without speaking to its very creator. That is why I am here, Karyoti, for I am creating a world of lessons, wherein the children of God, who have gone astray, may bathe in his merciful glory, while they drink from the fountain of forgiveness that he has so fortunately bestowed upon them.

Will you teach me of pain? Will you teach me of your suffering? Will you take me to your Hell? Will you show me your scars? Will you help me express the pain you have forged from your heart, and teach me of its purpose? I surely do not understand the meaning of this golden palace, whose towers pass the clouds and visitors are few. Why would no God dare to visit this palace of beauty? This, I wish to know, so that I can, in my world, express such undesirable beauty so well that no God could but resist it, no matter how undesirable it may be to their truest nature.”

Karyoti understands, “So you would like to learn through demonstration rather than through spoken word? It seems your great desire of all that is undesirable is perfectly expressing our Father’s paradoxical nature, of that I am sure you are aware! Let us go inside, and I will tell you of my journey, and everything I required to become the I that I so claim to be, and only then will you convince me of your desire of the lack of desire, for you will finally understand its impossible and paradoxical nature.

But first, I must enquire, why do your siblings not speak? I am sure they have much to say in your presence but are they quiet in another’s?” Samos laughs, “Unfortunately, they know not themselves well enough to allow nothing to concern their mind, so that our Father can speak through their expression, as He is speaking through ours. Although our Father is hiding in the illusive notion of nothingness, it saddens me to say how little they know of nothingness, so much so that they have nothing to say in its regard! But do not fret, dear Karyoti, for this adventure will make them most worthy of themselves! Surely, they await in silence for our coming destinations, where they will be tested truly, and I shall entertain a peace and sombre quietude.”

“Very well!” Karyoti moves on, “Into the Palace of Desire, we go!”

The Torture

Metaforeas, Marqus and Madera entertain the guest room filled with memories and stories from Karyoti’s adventures, but Samos awaits his own adventure in The Room of Much Torture. It was the final room in the Palace, and it was the final destination for those who wished to venture throughout this forsaken lair. Unfortunately, Karyoti decided that the final room would be most suitable for our Samos.

“Before I begin, it truly is that this room is called The Room Of Much Torture, but hopefully you will understand the pleasantry that lies beneath. Shall we begin, or do you have any starting enquiries?” Samos ponders for a moment, “I am sure that all my curiosities will be put to rest the longer you express the mysteries of my questions, so carry on and let me squander no further.” Karyoti begins, “Very well, then! Welcome, to The Room of Much Torture!

Where do I begin, if not at the very beginning? Have you noticed our self’s necessity for the love of our Father? Have you noticed how weak we are in comparison to Him? Have you noticed all the things we would do unto others, and ourselves, to have a piece of Him? Have you noticed the inevitable weakness expressed in the strength of our love for Him? Well, my beloved, that weakness is the one I set to rid myself, of its unfortunate pull and its devilish attraction.

You see, this Palace was empty. It was void, with nothing to see within it. Its barren nature was to express the silence a prayer would require, how else would a God find himself in quietude, in order to give his love to our Lord, the All-Father? However, it should be known that for us Gods, to learn ourselves from lessons old, we must forget our obvious nature, and become like man. To become like man, and make ourselves what could never be, so that we are limited by only our beliefs. How ridiculous would it be, for man to exist, in a world inhabited by Gods? As if such atrocity is plausible, let alone possible.

Yet, we Gods can make ourselves like man. And some, like you, can convince others of their manhood. You have been given a gift, oh Samos, whereunto others you are able to bestow a belief so strong, that a God will forget himself in the guise of a man. Most are only able to convince themselves, so imagine your enormous responsibility with such a talent. So much so that our Father has supposedly allotted you the task of creating a world where Gods believe they are man, to learn whatever it is they long to remember.

This is the tale of stature and riches, wealth and fame. Surely, these are concepts with which you are not yet familiar, so let us begin! You must know the story of man, whose nature is all but infinite. It was a tale to tell the Gods anew, for they knew not of their wondrous abilities. How could you tell a God of their eternal power, if not by comparison? Therefore, the elders would speak of tales of a man, who could not fly and could not see beyond the things permitted by his sight.

This kind of man would fight within themselves, and should a finger lay upon another, their skin would rip and they would weep in agony. They knew not of our Father’s eternal body, from which all life has most certainly come, so they thought themselves as separate, and so too did they think their pain as separate from another. This kind of man had no such powers, and as one would think, could never compare to the Gods. Fortunately, for this mythical kind of man, they were non-existent, so their horrid nature is not to fear, nor to pity.

But there I was, in my empty palace, thinking of how few my burdens were in light of my eternal nature... when it hit me! Oh Samos, not only are we able to convince ourselves that we are man, a mythical type of being, but we are able to convince others that we are man as well! I did like you, and planned to create a place, albeit not an entire world, to rid myself of undesirable expressions, but surely I prepared in excess, for my journey was all but entertaining.

Alas, I knew of my forlorn nature, that should I find an easy route to express eternally my love to the All-Father, I would take it... so I had to rid of it. I flew to the ends of my ability within these Heavens, where there is no light, but only the glistening shine of gold that shun upon the skies as bright as day. With this gold, oh Samos, I filled my palace with its glimmer and convinced myself I was a man who needed gold. I convinced myself I was a man who needed gold, and too that my Father would respect the abundance of his golden gems. That is all. That is all I did, though almost instantly, I misplaced my eternal love for my Father... in the wretched piles of gold about which you lay concerned.

My empty palace overflowed with a golden lustre, and I, a God who believed he was a man, believed he had it all. Unfortunately, I also forgot that all was not substantiated with empty gems of gold, but expressions of love towards our Father, how foolish I was, oh Samos. Not only did I believe in myself as a man, but so too did I believe all other Gods, to be men alike. Those who knew me would hear of my most gruesome plot to overrule myself, so they would come to visit, and in their visit... bring wrath that only a man cannot see throughout. I believed that all the Gods who came to visit were other men, who wanted all my gold for themselves so that my Father would love them the most, but how could I let them have it?

How could I let them run with my treasure? How could I let them walk with my Father? How could I let them be so close above me? How could I let them be at all if I was nowhere near his eternal beginnings? This belief, that all the Gods had come to steal from me, made me weak, though I had thought myself as powerful, for I had all the gold, but truly... the gold most definitely had me. The desire I had built for myself was so strong, that I could not break out of the spell of my own belief, for I thought it foolish to think a man could be a God, and surely this is the kind of man whose nature you seek for your world? A man who would think it foolish to believe in any God, let alone himself as one?

Would you like to meet such a man? Would you like to think from his mind? Would you like to know from his intellect? Would you like to sing from his melody? Such a man, with much love for our Father, yet so misplaced in other places? Would you care to lay down your Heavenly arms, and meet a man who hath forgotten his eternal nature?” Samos sighs, “I would.”

A sizeable God of jolly appears, “I think Fred is on his way. Wait... I’m Fred!” Karyoti scoffs, “More like fried. Stop smoking the mugwort off my drainage, it’s to keep the foundations from leaking, you big, unworthy sod!”

The Misery

Frederick was the God Of Aggravation, and he was truly annoying. He could never fathom his unfortunate, godly nature, so he made sure to pester all his heavenly siblings until he did. “Welcome to The Room of Much Torture!” Frederick bestows a tortuous, bellowing scream upon our Samos. “Karyoti!” Samos exclaims, “Surely, you are not leaving me inside this room with this insufferable Fred? It is true that I love him eternally, but the expression of myself is finding difficulty in bearing the whispers of his undertones. Will you bring in another? Possibly the God of Maybe’s?”

“Perhaps.” Karyoti laughs, “Though it is unlikely. What did you think this lesson of torture held in its most unfortunate assertion? Did you think you were to be stricken by the hand of our Father till you begged for mercy? Our flesh is infinite, you fool! Whatever is the fun in harming a God, if you can teach one to be the greatest poet of all, so that his stories may tell the tales of better poets? Nevertheless, enough from me. I shall leave you with the most irritable himself, Lord Frederick, whose essence was forged of our Father’s inability to create lesser gods than himself, for he was eternally powerful and slightly naive... I’m off to see the others! Good luck, and fare thee well!”

In these infinite Heavens, there was a God for every bout of magic one could possibly imagine. Most magic was subject to the art of belief, and Frederick’s was no exception. Though he was, annoyingly, the God Of Aggravation, he could morph his surroundings to the whereabouts of anywhere at all, with a telling of a tale or a story. With the utter of his voice, his divine environment would express the very tale his words would seemingly entertain. With such a talent, Frederick stood among the greatest storytellers in all the heavens, for his fables would astound any God who cared to listen.

Furthermore, if Frederick’s stories told tales of another, they would become a character within his mythical chronicles. This was the purpose of Frederick’s visit to the Room of Much Torture, for Samos knew not of the sorcery that was yet to come. That is, he did not know that once this sorcerer of fables began to tell a story, he would do, and become as whatever it was our Frederick so wished him to be. Samos looks to Frederick, “I can assure you, Fred, that no matter the peculiarity of your stories, I will never forget myself, so tell as many tales as your provocative heart desires.”

“Not a problem, sire!” Frederick laughs, “Once upon a time, there was a carpenter... but never any wood!” Suddenly, Samos became a carpenter, and there wasn’t any wood. “I... I do not understand? Is there no place to express my brilliance? Oh Father, why have you made no trees, nor planks of wood, lest your kingdom be void of birds and fruits that nourish! How am I to live in such a wretched world that has no use for my craft which I have spent eternities perfecting? Do you fear my recklessness? Do you fear my creations? Do you fear me, that you have enslaved my eyes in a place they cannot see?”

“Oh!” Frederick exclaims, “This foolish mockery is most entertaining! Another! Hm... And there he was, the greatest painter in all the heavens. So majestic with his brush, though how unfortunate his forsaken hand, that all his paint was invisible! No God would ever see his masterpieces, nor would he!” Samos then fell to the ground, “Oh Lord, in what world am I to be set free? This misery is far too grand, that I would hardly wish the same on the devil himself. Lord, why do you constrain me to my hands, that my fingers cannot speak to any other, lest they have the eyes to see what cannot be seen. End my misery, oh merciless lord, and cut my hands, for what can come from their unfortunate demise? Take my hands, and then my eyes, as I cannot bear to see another’s work, and remember my abandoned canvas.”

“Terrible, but fantastic!” Frederick laughs, “More! More!

And in the mighty Heavens, there was one who ventured into the darkness, convinced that he would be the light it needed. Like a thunderous echo in a world of silence. Alas, this God was not the light, nor the gleaming sound he thought himself to be, but the darkness and the silence. Though he’d travel through eternities, blinded by himself, he could never find that which he sought to find, for it was never lost at all.”

“Ha!” Samos mocks our Frederick, “You seem to have lost touch with your deceptive magic, devilish brother! I am as I was, and your tale did not so much as change a hair on my head!” Frederick sighs, “Well it seems to me, that there was nothing to change! It is an honour to meet you, oh Prince of Darkness, for you lay your sights on a world that’s void of light and truth, and seek to make yourself anew through this darkness you misplace in others, but find eternally in yourself.”

“How dare you?” Samos howls, “Do you not know the purpose of my visit? Do you not know to whom you speak?” Frederick concludes, “Oh brother, I was only brought to make you suffer, but the tale your nature tells is worse than any I could forge from my boundless mind. If that is not telling enough, endangered brother!” Samos continues, “Is this a joke? Do you mock me? Do you think this to be a simple jest? Do you know not the harm you have imposed on my composure?”

Karyoti returns, “Ah Samos! It seems you have found what you were looking for, no? I can assure you, that there is no mistake in what you’ve heard. Did you think this room to be a farce? As if the most painful dagger to our soul is not the unfortunate truth we hide beneath the guise of our ambitions! Fear not, foolish brother, for you will learn more from your own ill-fated nature than any story Fred could possibly divulge into your feeble mind! Would you like some snacks while you wait for the others? Or are you well-fed with the pitiful understanding of yourself?”

The Outcast

Frederick disappears behind the closing doors that bar the gloomy Room of Much Torture. “That was fun! Wasn’t it?” Karyoti mocks, “Are you glad to be outside this wretched Palace of Desire, or would you like some more?” Metaforeas, Marqus and Madera all laugh after having heard of Samos’ unfortunate revelations within the Room of Much Torture. Marqus teases Samos, “Maybe next time, you can take us with you so that we can have a jab at your immeasurable ego as well! I’m certain of my infinite ability to find appropriate insults in regards to your misfortune!”

“I know not why you laugh.” Samos returns, “It is you who is to face the Jester King, and hope he finds a reason to bestow upon you, once again, the Stick of Slapstick, after knowing of your gullible nature that led to its demise. You can mock me all you want, but this pain that I have seen has made a fool of me, for I would never have expected that such insignificant technicalities could bring me to my knees in despair. If all it took for my composure to explode was a simple, obvious truth, then I could all but bear the anguish that would come amidst my fall to cruel beliefs. I am weak, but now I know of my fragility. I hope you meet his highness, the Jester King himself, with nothing but a desire to lose yourself, so that you may be found again. I have lost completely what I thought was evidently found, and now I know not of my purpose on this gutted venture.

Metaforeas, if you would allow us, let us give our thanks to the Prince, and be on our way. I cannot bear another moment on this floating island of dejection.”