Amel woke at 4 am. He went to his small kitchen and brewed a cup of tea. He sat for a few moments looking out the window at the garden. "Sat Nam", he said quietly as he opened the door and walked out into the garden. He stood on the path and drew a deep inhale. His breathe began deep in his lower stomach and went up through his torso to his clavicle. His eyes were closed and focused at the brow.
The Cannabis Spirit called to Amel, "Come to me with water, Brother, for I thirst and my buds grow heavy with the dew of your yearning." Dutifully Amel brought a large watering can. He smiled as he poured the water and murmured, "beautiful ladies" in a melodious fashion.
Gaia had said that she would give her children many gifts and one of them was the Cannabis Spirit. "Be a connection to me for them," she instructed the Cannabis Spirit. And so it was for many eons. But as the Kali Yuga proceeded the ways of the children became so frivolous and spoiled that the gift of cannabis itself became a curse and was no longer a blessing.
Amel had escaped from the desert fortress of Harou eleven years ago. Many assassins had followed him. One had come disguised as a pot-seller. Another had come on horseback leading a company of mercenaries. Some had died. Some had fled. Some had stayed and been given the instruction setting off afterwards for a destination chosen by Amel. They would spread the Message across the world.
Harou heard of this and was quietly enraged that Amel had been able to defy him. He stood in the courtyard under the stars and looked around him at the young men and women he was training to kill. They lounged on couches and pillows, beautiful companions offered them sensuous delights, delicacies and favorite foods were proffered, and the sweet pungent smell of burning cannabis wafted through the setting. Harou gestured to Bodan, his second-in-command, "Tell me, Bodan," said Harou in a bare whisper, "What can we do about this Amel. He must not be allowed to continue defying me."
"Leave him to me, Master," said Bodan. "The man has not lived whom I could not overcome."
"Yes, I will do that, Bodan," said Harou. Neither of them noticed the shadow light of Amel's subtle body as it stood in the corner a few feet away.
Amel lay down the pipe. He drew a deep breath on the inhale. He focused at the brow. He rose and pulled his sword from its sheath. First he executed the Katarn Manuevers, swift and graceful movements to invoke the flow. Then he repeated the Manuevers standing first on his right leg and then on his left leg. He then sheathed the sword and sat on his heels. For the next hour he sat, his arms raised above his head, elbows straight, hands together in prayer, reciting "Sat Nam", contracting the stomach muscles on the "Sat" and softly inhaling on the "Nam". (Author's note: I have vowed to finish this story if and when I get at least three comments asking me to do so. Otherwise it can remain as a collection of thoughts in my little brain.)
