Chapter 9: Liber Octavus

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Fantasy  |  House: Booksie Classic

Reads: 140


The tragedy of his most excellent & decorated
master defender of the weak meek
Lumus Novus Dominus
Liber Octavus


By the sickle the farmer doth labor.
By the pen, the poet inscribes his texts.
By the sword, the soldier performs &
His civil duty to justice.
Three professions which differ
But alike due to their cause;
Money, thou gold which feeds me,
Cloths me shelters me from cold.
Sans thee I am nothing.
In thy possession, I hold my peace.
Gold, silver & copper ores of my pocket.
I hold thee in my hand as thou upholds me
From poverty & hunger.
But in abundance, aye the toil lies
In thy one & only truth.
Thou would poison me & inflict me to believe,
How I marvel to conquer the will of men.
Their loyalty is not mine but thine.
Thou piece, which corrupts the noblest soul.
Thou births jealousy & envy.
Proves the most humble to be the weakest.
Money for thou we live by thee we die.





Oh, understanding & kind compassion,
I am at thine mercy. Guide this passion
Which kindles this flame of inspiration.
Alas, be grateful for my donation.
My most respected reader, this tale becomes
Indistinct of real events. Many tongues
Speak at me at once, I know not who tells truth or lies.
What should I discard, what should I prize.

New Corinth was the place where the story
Unfolds. Different names claim old glory;
Corsea, Montillion Tartalus & york bridge
Names I can not confirm, doubts which
I can not appease. But lo, there is more.
The crimes Lumus in his consciousness store.
Mercy & patience my most noble lector,
I revoke to write & believe that somber specter,

Is attributed to my solemn knight.
When he is but the light
Which illuminates the shadows of this real.
To write what was done in justice’s name, overwhelm
The heart & creates lies of his compassion.
Therefore I shall omit this minute distraction.
Sans delay, I will continue my story
& my poem of epithets all laudatory.

Six years had the brutes their ground strongly placed.
Where many a good fight they braced.
‘Til one fateful day in western snowy
Mountains. The very last brute fell, a lonely
A warrior who had lost the will to fight.
Thus on that cold peak, the grave was his site.
Alas, the very race which had caused turmoil
& grief had now become dust & returned to the soil.

The uncultivated lands once again became
Farming grounds where peasants laid their claim.
Thus, grain & fruits were in abundance.
Beers crafted of barely & malt, the substance
By which in New Corinth’s veins runs. So too
The grape both red & green naturally grew,
To craft the finest wines both red & white.
Their flavor, aroma unequal I dare write.

The wild game returned to low meadows;
Pheasants, geese, rabbits, boars & doe. Those
Animals which in the area were
Rarely if ever seen before.
Haunters prized them for their meat & fur.
Riverbanks flowed crystalline water,
Enriching the soil with clay. Giving the potter
The abundance of material to teach his grandson & daughter.

Behold, the trade of New Corinth resumed
With rich materials & viands to be consumed.
& the wealth of the rich grew twofold by year.
As for the poor, their labor improved sans fear.
Any threat or danger, their savior would
Protect them. Their pillar of hope, their ray of good.
Lumus Novus Lux Dominus. His holy title,
His noble title, most true & rightful.

Bestowed by none other than his majesty;
Eduardus Quartus Britanae rex. (A fantasy
Of my author. A Tudor should have the throne
On Lumus  time, not York this is well known.)
As for I, my loyalty resides true
& firm with Emperor of S.I.R oh glorious view.
Thou whom art in the regal throne; Carolus Quintus.
Imperator Augustus et Regni Olympus.

‘Twas in Canterbury where Lumus received
His titles. In its magnificent cathedral, he achieved
A title mightier than a lord, an honorary given.
Transcending all his sins, thus being forgiven.
& by Edward IV very sword, he tapped
The pauldrons of his armor, then he slapped
His cheeks twice thus naming him with grace;
The enlightened one, the new light of God.

& Lumus before his king decreed;
‘My king, in your command I lead
Liberty by the hand. My sword responds
To thine voice, my bond to thine service is beyond
Rapture. I pledge my being to thine only will,
Your majesty, thou hold the very quill
Which writes my fate, thou the author of my
Morrow, which dictates how I live, how I die.’

Upon his return to New Corinth, the city
Overflowed with painters, witty
Poets, dramatists, musicians & sculptors.
All originating from a thousand cultures.
Songs & poems were composed, detailing
His achievements to a crowd unfailing
To hear, their hero mighty resplendence.
How from a mere mortal his ascendance

Was almost divine & supernatural.
Plays were written portraying a pastoral
Youth, receiving a calling to a higher
Fate, to grace only he could acquire.
Painters & sculptures depicted him as
Heroes of antiquity., In many ways
His looks would change; Theseus with black curled hairs.
Prometheus & his flame giving his shares.

Hercules with a crown of Olive leaves.
& his trustworthy mace sans armor, sans greaves.
(After much thought & search I can interpret,
Liber  Tertius as his portrayal & portrait.
Of performing the legendary twelve labors.)
Troubadours sing hymns of him & historians
Memorialize his every breath. From Boreas
To Natus, Zephyrus across the sea to Eurus.


With fame comes from wealth. Indeed, his conquest
Yielded much gold & silver yet untouched. I attest
Of his distinguished state which was immense.
Several acres of land & streams with dense
Groves & vast green plains, habituated
By exotic beasts & birds which fascinated
Lumus during his travels. Bizarre creatures
& their oh so fabulous features.

There were haunter hawks & tiny finches,
Bird camels found only in Arabia. & on beaches
near riverbanks, crocodiles from the Nile.
Camelopards abundant grazing the leaves, while
Equiferus run wild on open fields.
Mighty beasts of large antlers which yields
Good hides, horns & abundant meats.
Products found in New Corinth streets.

Lions, jaguars, tigers, wolves & bears.
Forsooth his state was filled with sweet airs
Of luxury. At hand, it was his every need.
Exuberant antiquities & crafts fed by his greed.
But Lord Lumus, living true to his name,
Founded a school of thought, an athenium whose frame
& very core was his civil code.
Taught by master Lucius  which forebode

The success of Lumus in his profession.
& the very cause of his illness & obsession.
An aging knight, instructing a new seed.
An obsolete, archaic & bygone creed
For in his eyes, only those of pure blood
Could become knights. Nobles whose hands mud
Have never touched. Nor a hard day’s labor
Sans sweat, sans effort, wished to wield a saber.

It came to pass one day, an honest youth
Appeared before Lumus. Long he had a sleuth
The knight, both day & night. ‘Til that very day,
He spoke valiantly as he firmly stood in his way;
‘My father was among the first to die
When he defended New Corinth. As his ally,
I implore thee, make me thine apprentice.
A word, a nod, a merely momentous

A sigh of thine blessing will bring to Fjord peace.
My penance & shame shall then only cease.’
Lumus dismounted his loyal steed & spoke;
‘Thine father was a worthy brother of arms, folk
Were moved by his speech. What is thine name?’
‘The unacknowledged son sans right, sans claim.
Ilman Toivo’. Said the boy with tears flowing.
His face ever-glowing a joy blissfully showing.

But Lumus countenance abruptly changed.
Due to his early youth & nature estranged.
Lumus turned his back on the poor child.
The boys face turned pale as his smiled
Visage slowly faded for eternity. ‘My master,
What is thine reason? Am I unworthy to stir
Thine true heart? Lest I be honored to touch
The red cape at thine back, thou dost hold much…’

Interrupted was he by Lumus; Speak not
In the manner of knights, I am fraught
To learn, the sins of good Fjord. A bastard?!
He was a charmer, truly he mastered
The art of speech, he seduced women.
Now his offspring of lust…Nay, I shouldn’t.
By my master Lucius honorable teachings.
(May he rest in peace) I hold no feelings

For thee. Now bastard, injure not my sight.
Depart away & bother me not, I do not trite.’
& the child collapsed on the ground amidst
Sobbing & painful cries. I pray his fate was fixed.
For the wheel of fortune holds many a surprise.
Those who art as monarchs & highly prized
Knights, in a mere misstep, can be no different
Then a child rejected by a raging current.

So too our Lord Lumus will learn the way of life.
The manners in which luck is both idle & rife.
For I speak to thee personally dear reader.
We are the architects, constructors & only leader.
Of our lives, our fates, our growing success.
At times as such when Lumus lived, one could not guess.
Grasp the moment of your triumph by thine sweat
& avoid temptations or pride, for they are a threat.

My well-respected reader, we have but
Reached, the beginning of Lumus decline. What
Unforgivable crime did he commit?
What was the cause in which his lit
The torch was extinguished? No more I can speak,
But onto the next book which revokes his meek
Nature.  For Lumus world was shaken to its core.
I can not wait to reveal what I have in store.

Liber Octavus Finis





Submitted: August 20, 2019

© Copyright 2022 anonymous 1520. All rights reserved.


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