she in reality knew the same things that you knew respect to that mysterious events and the paradoxical adventure in which you have been catapulted. The only difference between you and her was that inside Dafne there was an instinctive voice that exhorted her/it to conquer otherwise totally the love and the trust of its beloved Saint you/he/she would have lost him. Its superior Spirit spoke to her in dream, it admonished him to tie deeply to you, to do so that you blindly trusted her, so you would have allowed its Spirit to tie to yours, remaining so laced, if not properly to the terrestrial dimension, at least in a limbo, where you/he/she would have been able to enjoy whenever of your presence every you would have connected to your spiritual dimension. Dafne with his/her Spirit panted to be nearby simply you.
In all the histories of the world the devil represents the unknown one that frightens and you/he/she has always been painted from all the religions of the world or better from those people that interpreted to them comfort the Sacred Writings as the worse evil, the abyss that any pious soul would have had to avoid with all the strengths. But the truth, as you know, it is well other. These charlatans' goal to head of the great religions of the world is the manipulation of the human mind so that people subdue him to the constituted power, without I handed too questions. What they try to paint as the absolute evil as the devil, the being with the feet caprini, provided of horns and with an insatiable thirst of blood, it is instead a prophet a carrier of light. The greatest contradiction in the interpretation of one of the most important religions of the world is really in the term in which you/they treat the enemy of God, leaving him however its native ambiguous name rather, Lucifero, that carrier of light literally means. The truth, in fact, is that in the Sacred Texts the devil represents he who you/he/she brings the fĂ ce of the knowledge, the to know to the man. It is the rebellious angel that is freed by the divine slavery to know and to draw near to the men. It is the Prometeo of the people monoteisti.
You have chosen the road of the truth that however, as in all the choices that they take, hands to you determine consequences. If you have chosen the disenchantment, the lacking truth from every compromise, here that you have had to lose by circumstance the faithful love of Dafne that you would have been able to feed only having faith in her.
If a man marries the love for the wisdom, unfortunately, going to fund more and more, sooner or later you/he/she will risk to be without the warm comfort of a faith or an any belief that relieves his responsibility of his to act and of his to think in front of the inevitability of the human stories.
It misses only to remember the anchorage with which your Spirit is tied to your dimension before undertaking this spiritual trip and in a flash you will find again yourself to house, in your world of origin."
"My anchorage.
The abstruse words of the man had operated in Saint a series of internal mechanisms what time they autonomously stirred decontrolling locks of mysterious doors inside its psyche, reducing her endless and inarrivabili possibility that hardly succeeded in realizing with its eye clairvoyant, in an only simple and directed path. You looked around and the dark of that extraneous universe instantly seemed him more dish, less appalling than that that it appeared him few instants before. Also the earth chestnut dark, disseminated of thin threads of grass tiredly emerged by the opacity of that ground, where they leaned his/her feet, suddenly it seemed more docile, almost yielding under to the wish of his/her ready legs to devour that brief path that separated him/it from the reality of his/her body, that attended him/it in the terrestrial dimension. It fixed the calm oak, silent and patient in attends him of his/her ineluctable destiny, ready to be rout by the wish of Saint that was reawakened to rhythms by now dizzy. Instant after instant, every spiritual cell of the occultist resurfaced from that long numbness to ransom to big voice its power on the things. Its legs knew whether to go even if its deceived eyes didn't see the I continue of some walk around that edge of earth suspended in the void, even if its weak rationality still tried to warn him/it in front of the dizziness that that atro abyss aroused him. The key missed only him the anchorage that the archer had spurred him to look for. Fixing his/her look in the depths black eyes of that man, Saint was certain that these it already knew the answer to the final question that exploded liberatoria from its bellows.
"You know qual is the key!"
And while it was pronouncing that sentence, his well trained intuition completed the whole puzzle of his to cogitate. It happened really while you/he/she was pronouncing those words and his/her look imperceptibly stirred toward the other man ch'era been passive for the whole time, absorbed in the shade, almost to try to make to lose his/her traces to the eyes of Saint or to make to lowly forget the echo of his/her image that tried to already fade in that minimale context. Saint recognized him/it, was Charles Monteghini the dead husband of Dafne! You/he/she had put again in sixth himself the face of that man, dead tragically in that violent crash of his/her Ferrari against an anonymous guardrail.
It aimed the fire of his/her look against the archer and it pronounced the final verdict of his/her extreme lucubrations.
"The key are you, my edotto orator! I don't know at all the motive for which has chosen you as anchorage for this astral trip of mine. I have sunk my soul reporter in all the dusty caverns where my self guards the history of my memoirs, but I has not found your face. However the intuition is totally always deprived of fault and you you represent its final target. I will perhaps discover the mystery of this choice when me riapproprierò of my body and my dimension of origin."
The archer then smiled lifting the hands to the sky and everything to a line Saint didn't see anything, then you/he/she didn't feel, then he didn't know anything than that world, then of himself.
XLIII
Why would you/he/she have had to wake up him? That warmth softly cradled him/it, it held him/it narrow among persuasive, invisible braccia that concealed him/it to the cruelty of the life. That maternal shade emanated an idyllic odor, attractive as if you/he/she had been sweet, even if in reality it properly was not sweet. He/she knew of flowers of field and at the same time of woman just gone out of the water and later kissed immediately by the heat of the sun, he/she knew about the coolness of a fall montana, of the soft perfume of a pup just wakened up, of joy and of love, of silence and of peace. In that salvificos limbo could finally choose not to choose to be free from the weary subdued human condition to the ineluctable decisions imposed by the free will. Surrounded and blessed by the love of that all, despite him he/she didn't take care of him of nothing, it didn't act to any level, it didn't desire any thing. It was again in the abdomen of the eternity, again freed by the nudity of the human confinements and by the suffocating belts of the conscience.
"What other?" did he/she wonder "that other?"
But the eccentric instinct of the mechanics of its body shattered in a real beating of eyelash that mysticism reached ecstasy. They were the eyelids not to hold up the sudden entry of that powerful Spirit that connected again him through the soul to that vacant and immovable body. They opened wide him of reflex, allowing the external light to hurt the sleeping pupils, painfully waking up again the whole human car of Saint and forcing his/her Spirit to risedersi to the cockpit of that body that up to a little before it apparently seemed dead. With work it owed riaccettare the sharp pain sentence of the gravitational strength that burdened even on his/her most imperceptible gesture filling him/it of responsibility and heaviness. The sterile bones of its face pressed tyrants the timid softness of its cheek. But there was some soft velvet to make of antagonist to that oppression. Delicate and perfumed of ambrosia was that chaste back that prevented the head of Saint to fall in earth. The numbness slowly dismissed him from all the secluded meander of that forgotten body returning the burden to reactivate its impolverata dynamism to Saint. Taken conscience to have among the braccias an irresponsible body of woman. She was completely naked! It warned among the hands the rotunda sinuosity of lukewarm breasts. It perceived the int
imate heat of firm buttocks glued to his/her pube. He was completely naked! The impelling need to know where it was found it aroused him/it violently. Its eyes rotated hysterical to snatch more information possible respect him around and meanwhile its body got up and crossed disorientated and heavy the first footsteps in that atra dimension. That other dimension that then was his! Recognized the room! The elegant room decorated as you/he/she had been the ancient palace of Cleopatra. The purple curtains were still dams, impendendo to the light to penetrate.
There was also the dormant young girl that Dafne had given him with a gesture of pretense anger. That young pale body appeared him of shoulders, he/she almost wanted to conceal the intimacy of its alcove and Morfeo against the back of that sinful red couch.
"Then was everything one astral trip!it " began, suffered a sudden dizziness that outrageously nauseated him/it.
In few instants it found again on all four him to in earth to throw back all of this that its stomach could contain at that time. To on all four! Both the hands planted on the floor! Had both the hands! That visceral pain was