Above the starry sky, countless stars were arranged in order under an architect hand. The ancients philosophized about his eternity, a true or erroneous theory, his life was extinguished in advance; its end in a tumultuous and null hoax, without a supporting certificate.
Was it necessary? Tumult of positives and negatives; hilarious. The desire for knowledge or the sin of pride.
Different positions through different perspectives, out of focus; wrong approaches.
A candle went out...
The human being was worthy of study focus; just as they did it from materiality to spirituality.
Once again, in his countless example, a new day was opening. The heavenly cellar closed and disappeared in the dreams of many, and the heavenly curtain made an appearance.
Above it, an inextinguishable spark decorated it in its infinity; even the specks of dust being part of it.
The plurality of the male and female actor, stardust?
An idea that is coming as well as past, plural in its essence; crossing the times like leaves sensitive to the fierce wind in their ignorance.
Brittle or full of vitality, their act of flying was not acted. Able to maintain composure in the face of the outside, or hibernate in the superstition of surviving.
No different from the theatrical abilities of humans, realistic or magical...
But no one would deny the skill of a magical playwright; who arranged the pieces and the threads, approaching the beginning of the work.
Work starring dozens of members of high levels of power. With a greater or lesser voice, puppets before the magic dust.
'Who could be the one organizing these events? Even the leaves are coming in... Wait, I went in there once too. What genius could it be that organizes these events? He needs a raise.' Federick thought boredly, as he looked out at the sprawling grounds beyond the window.
His posture was relaxed, slumped over his seat; On the other hand, it comprised a profound difference from those of the other individuals present.
Tense expressions and awkward postures; the normality of a majority, which was not shared by a minority.
This was clearly observed through Federick's deep eyes; who analyzed the constant struggle of a brave ant carrying a huge leaf in proportion, probably in the direction of its anthill.
'Is this the spirit of the ancestors?... Unfortunately these insolent people do not share it.' Federick thought with slight displeasure as he observed the different elders.
In reality, he was the insolent one; since he hadn't bothered to research the different individuals present, so he ranted aimlessly.
Suddenly a loud sigh was heard. A farewell to life, a call to the cold lover.
"I ask, with your honorable permission, Your excellency... Who and how has allowed the young prince to participate?" The elderly man said, his forehead breaking out in cold sweat.
To the surprise of many, before the king responded, another voice participated in the formula.
"First of all, to you he is Federick Gaviria Battlemman." The same person responded, with such objection that it generated disgust.
At this, in a silent explosion, different sighs and murmurs were heard.
"High". A word spoken no more than a sigh, but one that was able to calm the situation in a flash.
What preceded the silence was a simple but emphatic look; which did not judge, but defeated the spirits.
"What do you mean, Young Federick?" He quickly asked who had started the interrogation; an intelligent man who knew how to read the environment.
"That you are all fake." Federick sentenced without measuring his words.
"Upon observing the impresence of class on an individual in this room, I order the postponement of this meeting to another occasion." Said Charles II, observing his grandson's actions.
Following his words, two individuals emerged from among the mixed members, who accompanied Federick to his exit.
But to his surprise, a problem occurred due to his irresponsibility.
"You are all fakes!" Federick suddenly shouted, his saliva flying as he waved his dominant hand; hidden among the predisposed, his observation of resentment, mockery, displeasure or surprise, present among the members.
With this, he was silenced once and for all.
...
An hour had passed since Federick's friendly farewell. At this moment he was in the office of his grandfather, or the king...
"Let's talk about your previous behavior." Carlos II said in an apathetic manner, while attentively reading a book in his hands.
"Haven't I just been sincere? Those are the values instilled by mommy." Federick responded, trying to take a cursory glance at the book his grandfather was holding.
After his response, he only received a scrutinizing look; able to stir his thoughts in a correct direction.
"I just wanted to spend some time with you, worm-eaten grandpa... I mean dear." Federick said while making a heart with the fingers of his third hand.
"Really?". Charles II asked indifferently.
"Yes, a grandfather and grandson moment." Federick responded with complete innocence.
With his response, he only received a bored look.
"I should be retired by now... Enjoying a paradise island, with wine and young girls taking care of me." The old man said with a sigh of regret, his face fascinated.
"Oh really?". Federick asked doubtfully.
And to his regret, he received something typical from his grandfather in response.
"Go away. Your affection transfers to benefits, one way or another." Charles II said decisively.
"But...". Federick wanted to intervene, but from one moment to the next, his butt was already touching grass.
"Old grump, he doesn't disimulate even out of suspicion." Federick commented as he stood up. His eyes hurt a little, but not badly.
He had failed in his main reason for coming, and had probably annoyed many others.
But still, I consider it a victory. His interest was not an absolute gain, but one in proportion to his different facets, virtues and gifts.
In this case, I had visualized different facets hidden in the different members; reason for his slight pain.
"All are false" He murmured in his heart.
'All... Singular in essence.' He thought reason.