Secret of the Encrypted Script
An intriguing tale of fate and love,
unfolded on walls of the craggy crypt;
as the maven returned to decipher,
secret of the mysterious script.
Not easy was it to revive from the ordeal of a séance but his will to unravel the baffling conundrums, dragged the maven back to the crypt once more. The stench of the rotting offals and dried blood curdled his guts, but calmly did he remain in the chamber, deciphering each word of the coded script he had scribed on the walls in his tranced stupor.
Each word revealed, astounded the maven by the intrigue with which the story of destiny and love of the princess unfolded. Episode of the rotten apple… the messenger’s malicious decree… adventures with the crystal ball… prince of the sun… anguish and affection of the ill-fated lovers… the curse… and finally the serpent in the womb of the princess; all lay revealed as he deciphered the encrypted words on the stony walls.
Confounded by the warped trail of this extraordinary account, the maven struggled to fathom the probable eventuality of this bizarre tale; for all his powers illuminated the past and present to him but the invisible ink that flowed from the messenger’s feather defied intervention by God, man and beast alike. All his calculations would merely help as speculations. But no vision could ever read the designs of destiny; no eye beholds the face of future with the pleasure of certainty.
Shuddering at the unknown hour and manner in which destiny would strike a blow again, the maven knew that the remainder of the messenger’s invisible script held no expedient tiding for the princess. The faint hope that the potent strength of true love would make good all that was lain asunder by her hostile destiny, was also crushed. The malignant curse of the spiteful witch had aborted that redress too. What ambition could ever save the soul that was pitted against its own affection by such a diabolical condition?
It seemed as though there was no redress for the affliction of the princess without causing her physical harm. The sole device that could harmlessly retrieve the venomous creature out of her womb was that manly apparatus of love that nature had created to penetrate the delicate core of a woman. Blasphemous though it seemed, the masterful mind of the maven contrived an ingenious agenda to wage a secret rebellion against the excesses of destiny. The life of the heiress weighed much heavier than the sanctity of her womb; the guardians of hell hardened their dark souls to sacrifice her virginity to save the glory of the diamond throne.
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