MY PAST LIVES
Warrior monk, member of a secret brotherhood in 16th century.
If the date is correct, I was born in 1533 somewhere in England. I can't specify my father's nacionality, but I do know he was married to a French woman who gave birth to, at least, three children, possibly more. I spent my childhood in a small village in France, perhaps Bordeaux.
His main occupation was tilling the land. The future didn't look very promising, so he decided to send me away to a school where I would study and work, with the final purpose of becoming a monk, if that was to be my decision.
The first years were quite tough. I had a mentor who would watch me closely while I learned the daily chores, and when I had almost become a grown man, he proposed to me that I join a brotherhood in which I would have access to an unimaginable knowledge, forbidden for normal people. I accepted. As part of the instruction, I traveled to Oxford to receive military training.
Henceforth, my life became a constant pilgrimage to several cities in Germany, France and Spain. We sought support from the most powerful men within the Church, feigning a total obedience to the Pope. But we also wished to bring back the real meaning of Christianity, preserve the Templars' legacy, and save from the flames those books considered heretic that contained an invaluable knowledge for us.
This kind of cause entailed making war, eliminating enemies if our secret was jeopardized, doing things against the basic principles of our religion. We ran a great risk to be accused of heresy if we were discovered. We also required a lot of intelligence and cunning to evade all those dangers.
Little by little I realized that the lust for power of our leaders were perverting our initial goals. At a mature age I wanted to leave the brotherhood, but as I already knew since the initiating oath, that was forbidden.
I was near 60 when my heart started to fail. My death came in the bed of my bedchamber, in my residence close to a cathedral, maybe —only maybe— in Gloucester.
His main occupation was tilling the land. The future didn't look very promising, so he decided to send me away to a school where I would study and work, with the final purpose of becoming a monk, if that was to be my decision.
The first years were quite tough. I had a mentor who would watch me closely while I learned the daily chores, and when I had almost become a grown man, he proposed to me that I join a brotherhood in which I would have access to an unimaginable knowledge, forbidden for normal people. I accepted. As part of the instruction, I traveled to Oxford to receive military training.
Henceforth, my life became a constant pilgrimage to several cities in Germany, France and Spain. We sought support from the most powerful men within the Church, feigning a total obedience to the Pope. But we also wished to bring back the real meaning of Christianity, preserve the Templars' legacy, and save from the flames those books considered heretic that contained an invaluable knowledge for us.
This kind of cause entailed making war, eliminating enemies if our secret was jeopardized, doing things against the basic principles of our religion. We ran a great risk to be accused of heresy if we were discovered. We also required a lot of intelligence and cunning to evade all those dangers.
Little by little I realized that the lust for power of our leaders were perverting our initial goals. At a mature age I wanted to leave the brotherhood, but as I already knew since the initiating oath, that was forbidden.
I was near 60 when my heart started to fail. My death came in the bed of my bedchamber, in my residence close to a cathedral, maybe —only maybe— in Gloucester.