txolops Chapter 47 Armand's Childhood
Chapter 47 Armand's Childhood
I was born in Kiev at the end of the fifteenth century, I don't remember the exact year.At that time, my hometown was in the midst of war.Tatars, Lithuanians, and Poles took turns occupying this land, and there are burned churches everywhere, and people wailing in the flames of war.The tsar's whip cannot help us resist the aggressor's iron hoof.What makes us feel even more painful is that our sacred beliefs have also been ruthlessly trampled on in this war.
Since the tenth century, we have been faithful to the Orthodox Church.Our beloved Grand Duke Vladimir I brought back this spark of hope from Constantinople and set it ablaze across the land of Russia.This strict and orthodox teaching, different from those soft and degenerate Catholic teachings, can best regulate our behavior and enable us to gain a firm belief in living in a harsh environment.We are extremely devout, although we have been persecuted by the invaders again and again, we have never thought of changing our beliefs.
I was born in a civilian family, and I was born with an unusual ability.I can paint the most beautiful icons.Although I have never learned painting techniques, those brushes and egg whites seemed to automatically become images of Jesus and the Virgin when I was fascinated.This gift was quickly discovered by a monk, and I was taken into a church.Every day, I don't need to do anything other than meditate, imagine the radiance of the Lord, and paint His image.
This pure life continued into my teens.The flames of war finally burned to the door of the church.My companions and I resolved to die in martyrdom.Underneath the church, there are stone shrines.We decided to shut ourselves in and drink only a small amount of water each day until we were completely fasted.There we will make our last contact with the Lord, defending our faith with our pure souls.
I was so eager to be a martyr that when my father came to me out of the blue, all I could think of was to sneer at him.He told the monks, I am still too young to know what martyrdom is, and I should not have been decided so early.I have great talents, and he has persuaded the Grand Duke of Lithuania to take me away from the war.I should paint in a safer place and become the exclusive painter of the dignitaries, instead of burying myself alive in the ground of the church.
I can't understand my father's thinking at all.Although he was the person I admired the most when I was a child.He was such a great hunter that not even wild bears could escape his bow.But after living away from home for several years, only the Lord and the teachings of the Lord are left in my world, and I cannot place my ordinary life on myself.My father managed to get me out of the church though.As a child, I had no right to decide at all.
We rode away.He told me how much the Grand Duke of Lithuania appreciated my talents.He hoped that I could live in peace, even if I gave up part of my faith. "You will always be my pride!" he said to me.
My mind is in total disarray.My companions, who were about to walk the path of martyrs, I got cold feet.I'm supposed to be the one closest to the Father, otherwise how can I paint His image in my trance?But my father, that is the man who has influenced me the most in my life, how can I let him down on me?
At this moment we were eyed by a band of wandering Tartars, who, like their ancestors, loved to ravage.Father killed two of them with a bow and arrow, but they were outnumbered.They caught me in a panic, and I could only watch my father roll off the cliff.
I never thought I would leave my hometown in such a way.But this little episode is nothing compared to my later experience.
I came to Constantinople by boat.They must have raped me on the trip, because I can't remember anything that happened on the boat.I was terribly ill with a horrible noise in my head.I was taken into a courtyard, and I heard them tell people that I had never been raped, that my weakness was only from seasickness.So I was resold to an old man at a very high price.
He tried to give me the best food, like fattening a pig for slaughter.We started our sea travel again.My spirit was up and down, and sometimes I wanted to die immediately, but I felt extremely unwilling.When we arrived in Venice, I never got a chance to see the city at all.I was locked in a room full of filth.I heard the old man arguing with another man, in a language I couldn't understand.
So I was transferred again.This time, the guy who bought me wanted to try and teach me something.He sent boys to touch me and coax me and they hugged me and kissed me deeply and kneaded my breast buds with their fingers and reached out and touched me where I was taught not to even look .
It fills me with guilt.Soul and body were torn apart.After a month, I could no longer recall the correct way to pray.I cannot see the face of the Lord.During my trance, no icon was born in my hands.
My uncooperative attitude must have irritated them.They started beating and scolding me and torturing me in cruel ways.Of course, the most primitive punishment methods are also indispensable.I was locked in a small room, allowing different people to invade my body in the same way.Despair and endless despair, gradually I can no longer feel the pain.
I started refusing to eat.No one can make me eat even a morsel.I'm doing my best to end my life.I think I'll be back in Kiev soon.My cold, poor but beautiful hometown, she stands on the land far away, waiting for my return.My soul will return to those dark underground passages, to those martyrs.They may have been starved to nothing but shriveled bodies.But so what?My body was equally filthy.God bless, we have finally achieved the fullness of our souls.
The process of starving to death was so long and painful.Sometimes I would scream in desperation, but just couldn't hear my own voice.There are all kinds of strange sounds in my ears, water drops drop by drop on the stone platform, church bells, women's laughter...
I remember I had a dream.A dream about home.But when I woke up, I didn't remember anything.I finally couldn't help crying, as if trying to get the last bit of water out of my body.
Then, I felt a firm chest.
A man hugged me.His complexion is so fair, far more than anyone I have ever seen.His arms are strong and strong, holding me tightly like a stone.He was wearing a bright red down cloak.Long blonde hair parted down the middle.His forehead is full and smooth, without a trace of age, but his appearance does not have the impetuousness of a young man.It was a face belonging to an elder, gentle and wise.His blond eyebrows were long and straight, giving his face a particularly angular look.Beneath the brows, those blue eyes gazed eagerly at me.
"Amadeo." A deep voice poured out from his lips.
He smiled at me kindly.Suddenly, I thought I saw God.
"No, I'm not God," he told me.
I was moved almost to tears.In this place, no one has ever spoken my language.Although he also spoke a strange language, I was able to understand it. "I'm going to die soon," I told him.
"No, little one, you will not die. You will live under my protection, the same age as the sun, moon and stars."
"You know, because you are God," I insisted.
"You might as well sleep while I carry you back." He covered my eyes with his palms.
When I woke up again, I found myself lying in a huge bathroom.To my left, clear water gushes from a shell in the angel's hand and spills into an oval bath.My new master, he stood under the water column, took off his red cloak.I was swaddled in velvet next to a huge four-poster bed.
The host motioned for me to come over.I am a little scared, but also a little novel.I saw beautiful angels painted on the azure ceiling that I had never seen before.They seem to be alive, spreading their wings and dancing around us.He bathed me and gave me the most explosive and horrible pleasure with his hands.His lips and fingers make it no longer a sin to do such a thing.Every kiss of his is so touching, it seems to make my soul jump with joy.My physical strength has not yet recovered, but after each rest, I will actively entangle his limbs until dawn is approaching.
He took me to meet many boys.They were all so healthy and lively, very different from the ones I saw in the brothel.They had apple-cheeked faces, and their figures were more slender than girls, under the careful trimming of their tunics.They all knew I was coming and welcomed me warmly.
I finally understood that Amadeo was the master's new name for me.My future will be closely linked with him.I shall be his son, lover and slave.The latter is entirely voluntary.
Yes, my master gave me new life.He let the boys take care of me and teach me during the day, and he appeared at night, implanting those joys that I had never had before into the marrow of my bones.
I know his name.Maris, one of the most outstanding artists in Venice.Every wealthy Venetian merchant spared no expense for even one of his unfinished works.But he rarely sold his paintings.He seemed to have untold wealth and could live like a king.
He told me that the first time he saw me, he thought I was an angel in the world and the most suitable model for him, so he gave me the name "Angel of God" - Amadeo.
In my eyes, the master is almost omnipotent.He knew history, politics, philosophy, art, arithmetic, and every language I knew.He brought in tutors in every subject for me and the boys, and taught us better than anyone else.
I was his favorite of all.He drew one portrait after another based on me.And my companions, they never alienated me.We are like living in a big harmonious family, loving each other like brothers and sisters.
In our spare time, we practice painting and fencing, and we read books shipped from all over the world.Each boy was given a small sum of money, sometimes to run errands for the master, and sometimes the master offered to buy us things we wanted.This made me feel very novel.You must know that I have never been exposed to so-called "money" before this.
I saw the beauty of Venice for the first time.Those tall domed buildings remind me of the churches in my hometown.As long as you pay a small amount of boat fare, you can take a gondola to go anywhere you want.I visited the interior of St. Mark's Basilica under the Doge's charter, and I witnessed how the most advanced ships in the world were born in the docks of Venice.Life is so colorful.Me and the boys, we used to snap up the newly arrived picture books and engravings.Every once in a while, we will go to the tailor shop to tailor the clothes according to the small drawings hand-painted by the owner.Our laughter can always be heard in the candy store.I even had a pocket watch of my own, how amazed I was at the time by this little thing that told the time!
I feel like I am in heaven!
The master explained the history of Italy to me, and the boys told me more, all of them seemed to be learned little scholars.They told me that in the eyes of our masters, no matter how much we spend on grooming, we can afford it.They bought me shiny pins and cufflinks, and decorated my neck with inscribed pendants.I also got two ruby rings and some other beautiful gemstone rings.
Of course, behind the wonderful life, I also feel that the master is different.I'm the only one who can share his bed with him.So some details gradually become impossible to ignore.
Sometimes he would make me close my eyes and drip some of the nectar into my mouth.The feeling was so good, I felt explosive throbbing from my throat to my fingertips.I always beg him to give me more, but the answer is always too late.I know what the master is planning, and I am eager for that moment to come soon.
However, he never took any further action.My mood started to become manic.