"The Prince"s Secret

     The next morning I got out of bed and looked at my self. But, as you might remember, I didn't actually see myself. I didn't think much of the ailment that had taken my sight. It was the price to pay for my powers. But today, I was thinking about it. I was thinking hard. Because today, I knew I would have it all back.
     I shade walked through time to the date that Machiavelli had left for me. I knew it would be the last time I ever felt the rush of darkness over me, carrying me to were I wanted to go. I would miss it. But it was worth it for revenge. Because I had realized that The Voice wasn't the savior I thought it was. It had taken me away from the ashes of my old life and quarantined me from all that I could have loved.
     I came out in the Saint Mark's Basilica chapel in Venice, Italy. It seemed both alien and familiar, like moving back into a old house after you've been away for years. I looked with the shadow of the cave from all those years ago, and I realized where I was. I ran up the stairs two at a time as I headed towards one of the spires of the biulding. I passed a painting that I saw in the map of shade.
     I knocked it aside, revealing a hole in the wall. I climbed in and was instantly relaxed. This was it. This was The Cave. I found the path to the outside that I had taken all those years ago. Thats when I heard it.
     "So, you've returned" The Voice said. But this time I knew it wasn't just a voice. And I knew what it was.
     "Your book was ingenious" I said to it. "A true work of literature. Tell me Father, how did you get here?"
     "The same way you did. I too am a Shadow-charmer."
     "Then I guess there's just one thing left to do." I threw darkness at the Voice, otherwise known as the Shadow-charmer Machiavelli. He parried it aside, and responded with a fist of pure night that sent me flying across the room. I landed in a heap, thinking that I would soon black out.
     I heard Machiavelli land beside me, then he picked me up by my throat.
     "Son, you know you cant beat me." He said. I responded by spitting in his eyes. "OK, then, I'm going to teach you some manners." He slammed me onto the ground and then threw me into the air. I landed in his arms. Then he threw me out the path to the outside of the cave.
     When I landed I was in a small clearing surrounded by trees. My Father landed beside me. He punched me and I flew into the ground. I lay there, thinking I was beat and just wanting to see the sun one last time, when I realized that I had the key to beating Him all along.
     I looked inside myself, took a breath, and shifted the darkness off of my heart. It felt like a weight lifting off of my shoulders. Instantly I tore off the tattered blindfold that I had worn all these years and saw the sun shining down on me.
     I looked at my father for the first time, and was pitiful at what I saw. He was shriveled like prune with a rag running across his eyes. He was dressed in rags that limply hung from a scarred and bruised body. I walked up to him, light shining from my eyes, and tore off his blindfold. He looked at me with eyes that were full of a pleading look of self pity.
     "Kill me," he said, "Kill me like I could have killed you!"
     "No"I said, looking him right in his eyes, "You don't deserve death."

     I left him there, crying for death, for I showed him light and he hid in the shadows.

Austrias paper sales fly sky high

Austria has hosted one of the worlds strangest and most innovative competitions in the world. It is called the World Paper-plane Flying Championship 2012. There were over 200 competitors, and as many as 600 qualifying rounds. Paper plane makers from all over the world were in attendance, including contenders from Turkey, Lebanon, Switzerland, and the United stakes.
Pilot Tomas Beck of Czechoslovakia won the long distance honors at the Red Bull Paper Wings World Finals – the distance covered was 50.37-meters. The world record is 63.19-meters.
Elie Chemaly of Lebanon bagged the honors for the longest flight time - it was 10.68-seconds. The world record is 27.9-seconds. WOW. My paper planes barley stay in the air for half a second. As far as the rules go, contestants must use size A-4 paper, without the use of any tools or adhesives. It takes people hourse to make these planes. Talk about devoted!

Eureka!

    I ran back to my room, "The Prince" under my arm. I new for a fact that Machiavelli had hidden something in this book, and I had all the time in the world to find out what it was. Lazily, I settled into my impressive bed and got to work.

     After hours of looking at the book, I finally found what I was looking for. In the exact middle of the book, there was a drawling of what appeared to be the Medici family crest. I took out a magnifying glass and looked closer. then I saw it. There was a date, Nov ember 5th 1616, and next to that a time. Inside of that there was a name. Venice. Saint Mark's Basilica.At this time the church was becoming less and less authoritative. This was exactly what I had been looking for.

     I was happy, but I was very tired. I took a look at the secret message one last time, and fell into a deep and dreamless sleep.
   

My plan is working
I have infiltrated them
Information win!

Setteling

     I was getting settled in my new home when a man walked into my room. By the way he moved (as though he owned the whole world) I could tell he was a complete despot. Amused by his nature I decided to take him down of his high horse.
     "Oh there you are," I said, a imperial tone in my voice "Its about time. I've been waiting almost an hour for my servant."
     "What!" said the nasty little man.
     "You should call me sir, or I shall have you punished" I said, fighting to keep a smile of of my face when he turned a beet red.
     "DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM!"
     "But of course, you are my servant! And I am your master. Now go away, and don't come back till you can treat me with some respect!" He almost looked to explode when I said this, and quickly rushed out of my room. I smiled and continued unpacking. After about a half an hour of relaxing in my luxurious suite (Cosimo always had an excellent sense of taste) I decided to do what I really came here for. I slipped out of my room and walked to the library.
     Inside there were hundreds of books, all the most up to date or the most collectible works of the Rinascimento, or renaissance. It was very impressive. But the book I was looking for was one of the most notable books in the world. Machiavelli's "The Prince". A book so infamous it was famous. I found what I was looking for, took a glance around, and slipped it into my coat pocket. Phase two of the plan was done.
     Happy with my work, I returned to my beroom to wait for the beet faced man.

Cosimo sees the Cosmos

     I was done being nice. I had been acting like a human! I hate humans, and I couldn't let myself forget that. After all, humans had killed my mother. It was time to go back home, to the place where I was born again as a shadow charmer. I was angry with myself that I had grown so attached to what I was supposed to kill. I knew now that there was only one way to prove to myself that I was not human. I had to kill my closest friend. I had to kill my worst enemy. I had to kill my Father. Not the shell of a man that raised me, but my real father. The one I had never seen. I had to kill The Voice. But first I would need to find him, and to find him I had to go to the center of knowledge. Florence.
     I shade walked into a busy Florentine street to look for the man I knew I could trust. A man that all but ruled Florence. I needed Cosimo de Medici. But Cosimo was a secretive sort, the kind everybody knew, but nobody saw. Then again, nobody saw me either. So I started my search. I found him after four days, staring up at the newly painted inside of the Florence Cathedral.
     "Its quite a sight, Cosimo." I said from behind him. He turned, startled.
     "Who are you?!?" shouted the famous Medici.
     "I am but a simple knowledge seeker, hoping for patronage. Of  course, if you don't want to take me in I will, how to put this, show you what you look like when hanging off the edge of a cathedral. Interested?"
     He nodded animatedly, saying "Of course I'll take you in. Into the dungeon! Guards!" Six heavily armed and armored men emerged from the shadows of the building. They all rushed at me at the same time, thinking to take me by surprise. It was them who were surprised as I jumped high into the air and landed on there crossed swords. I kicked a guard in the face and took his sword before turning and deflecting a thrust by one of my other adversaries. I turned by blade and ran it down the side of his to close the distance and delivered a fierce elbow to his jaw. He fell, eyes crossed in a classic and comical defeat. I turned around to see the remaining four guards in a line facing me.
     I beckoned with my fingers for them to come get me. One of them (the biggest) took the challenge and ran at me, screaming bloody murder as he did. I took this opportunity to scare them. I transformed into a giant black demon, the wings of a bat, the legs of a goat, the attitude of a sixteen year old, and the muscles of Mike Tyson. The rest of the guards ran away. I turned toward Cosimo. One uppercut later he was seeing stars and offering me patronage. Step one of my plan was complete.
     Satisfied with my work, I turned toward the Medici Villa and got ready to unpack my bags.

M9 Aristocrat

     I had my fun with the Maya, and decided to pay a visit to one of my favorite countries; Japan! I stepped into the shadow and came out in the Japanese city of Kyoto. Ah, Kyoto! I thought, A beautiful city up to its neck in the opium trade. It was sad, because that same obsession would lead to the city's downfall. In the mean time though, I was going to visit one of my old friends. I had known him for a long time, and his home was one of the most splendid I had seen. My name (well, my alias) was Kuria Kisho, meaning dark one who knows his own mind. It was good to be Kisho again, for the times me and my friend had were always memorable.
      I knocked on his door politely and changed into my expensive robes (made of shadow, of course) just as the door was about to open. Close one, I thought to myself as the door opened fully. Standing inside was a close personal friend, and one of the wealthiest men in Japan.  My friends name was rather different. His name was Hiroyuki Tamotsu, or defender of wide spread happiness. It was a fitting name, for even in the opium trade capital of Japan he frustrated the plans of impurity and evil. He was a samurai, his swords gleaming on his long, deep red robe.
     "Kisho-kun!" said Hiroyuki, "How are you?"
     "Well, my old friend. And you?" I replied, easily growing comfortable in my friends aura of happiness. This was a man that always made you want to be around him. Between his infectious personality and undying purity, there's no wonder he had amassed such wealth!
     "Good, good. Please come in, won't you? I shall have some sake heated for us." Ah, his one weakness; this clean white stone of a man had a little bit of dirt under it. He loved hot sake as much as I loved to travel! He brought back a tray of two small cups, each of the finest craftsmanship, filled to the brim with steaming rice wine (or sake). "Please sit friend, we have some catching up to don't we?"
     "Yes Hiroyuki, we do." I gestured at the paintings on the walls. "Added to your collection I see?"
     " I am always adding to my collection! Here, take a look at this!" He pointed to a painting of a beautiful tree with red leaves, "a Fuyuka!"
     "Very impressive! Is it true that he sines his name in blood on his paintings?"
     "Yes! Isn't it amazing how dedicated he is?" Fully engrossed in our discussion about art (but running out of things to say) , I looked around at his impressive home. 
     Once again I couldn't believe how fancy it was. Feeling a little guilty as I did, I asked if I could stay for a while.  He said yes, and I thought that we were going to have a good time, with only a marginal bit of saddness.

M8 The Sacrifice

      I was growing to sentimental. This i decided as I left Africa behind and traveled to the Americas. I had to do some killing. Poeple were living to long. It was unnaturel. So i decided to help the Mayans out. They only really did sacrifice when things like famine or bad luck happend. So I decided to help.
     I traveled to central america where I saw a Mayan village. I walked in and changed my form by shrouding myself in a color changing darkness. I took the form of a Mayan priest (seen right) I walked up through the village up to a small pyramid structure. It had an alter and a fire pit. I yelled in Mayan for everyone to join me at the Alter.
      In a few minutes there was a substantial amount of people, each with a curios look on there face. "The great sun Kinich Ahau has told me that it is time to make more sacrifices, for if we do not, drought will strike us harder than ever." The crowd let out a collective scream of blood-lust. That made me smile, and I called up a slave. 
    I reached for the jade sacrificial knife, and got four men to stress him out over the alter. I stabbed him in the stomach and reached into his chest. "Light the fire!" A fire was lit at the base of the alter and I pulled out the heart of the sacrifice. I pushed the body off the alter and into the fire.
     I might have been going soft, but a few sacrifices later, i was the opposite of docile.

M7Griot Hero Three

     After a few days of my fish-for-work deal, I decided to move on to a new village. I walked for a few days before coming to rest at a small village called  Boma. I had read about this village before, and knew a bit about the history of the place.

     While I was there, the village elder asked me to sing him a song. His name was Gahiji, witch meant the hunter.  He was obviously very respected, and I was honored to sing him a song. But first I had to make one up. There was also a young, tall, heavily muscled man named Sentwali Runihura. His name meant "courageous one who smashes to bits", and he was singing to. We locked eyes, and at that moment we both knew it was a competition. He didn't look very intelligent  and I was confident that my song would be much better. After a few minutes, I thought that I had an idea.

     Call: "Boma your soil is soft!" I sang.

     Response: "Boma your soil is soft!" The village sang back.

     Call: "but 10 wars did not sink you!" the next verse went.

     Response: "but 10 wars did could not sink you!"

     Call: "Your people still stand strong!"

     Response"Your people still stand strong!"

     Runihura stood and stared. He dropped his head in shame and started to leave. I smiled and handed him my last fish-on-a-stick. He returned the smile and walked off. We ate my favorite meal, fresh fish-on-a-stick. That night there was a party.
     There was fun and games, food, fish-on-a-sticks, and drinks. I had a lot of fun and went to bed happy.

M6 Visit to The Congo

     I was definitely pissed. i was shaking with rage. But I decided that revenge could wait. Instead, I decided to travel to west Africa! I had always been a fan of its beautiful scenery and the people there.
     I ended up in a small village in the land that would one day be the Congo. It was called Bukavu. It was primarily a fishing village and you could tell from the fragrant air. I walked around for awhile, watching the villagers work. They were doing things like making nets and traps and splitting firewood. There was also the tang of salt in the air. I looked for the source of the smell and walked towards a small marketplace.
    "Fresh fish, fresh fish! Shiny yummy fresh fish!" a man was shouting. I walked towards him and he caught my eye. "You there! You look like a man that could appreciate a good fish! I'll give you a deal. One fish a slate of salt, two fish a slate and a half!" I looked at him helplessly, indicating I had no salt. But the more I  looked at the man, the more my eyes went wayward to stare at the fish. They looked really good.
     "No salt?" asked the man. I shook my head.( I could understand the language but not speak it) He smiled a open, buffoonish grin. "Ill give you the fish, if you scale the rest of my fish yourself and take over the stall for the rest of the day." I nodded in approval and he handed  me two cooked fish on sticks. I ate ravenously, consuming one fish in a bit longer than a standard blink. The other I ate slowly, savoring the perfect taste of the freshest produce I've ever eaten. That moment made the rest of the day of selling fish worth it.
     I stayed there for a long time, every day working for that perfect fish.

M5 Alekxander

     After my brush with Muhammad, i decided to shade walk to a time when one of my best friends was still alive. His name was Alekxander Wolfer-Smidt a German Jew who's ways of following his book were a bit lopsided. Alek was a fist fighting priest.He regularly fought various ethnic groups. His methods lacked style, but his results were incredible. He was, forgive the pun, an unorthodox Jew.
     I arived at his house, well, shack really, and knoked on his door.  He opened the door and came out swinging huge hay makers at my head. I ducked and took his legs out from under him with a swift kick. I looked down at my friend. "I win again Alek.", I said.
     "Schön dich zu sehen Mercer! Its good to see you my friend!",he said in his booming voice,"you come at good time. The dirty gottverlassenen bösen Christens are coming! They have no need for alliances, and they sharpen there

Schwerters, there swords, on Jewish bones!" There was a knock on the door, and then it was kicked down. The people standing in the door were christain knights, the red cross on there shields was as red as blood. They threw a rock at Alek's head witch hit with a dull thump. He collapsed on the floor, a trickle of red escaping from his head. They hit me from behind and I blacked out.
     When I woke up, I was hanging from  my ankles. Across from me Alekander was moaning on The Rack. A bunch of crusaders took him down and picked him up. They dropped him on the floor and dragged him towards what looked like a pile of ashes. They took a torch and dropped it on him. He jumped off and started to run, but one of the crusaders threw a knife at his back. He collapsed on the floor, and they dragged him back on the fire. 'Christ, we adore thee!" they shouted. I hid my eyes but could do nothing to escape the screams. I knew he would die just like he did every time I came here, but this was more than I could take. I was completely disheartened.
     The Crusaders left me there, crying and listening to the screams of my oldest friend. I made a silent vow to find them, and destroy them.