The Fox of France

Chapter 8: Are you going to be a translator?

 "What is it?" Joseph asked, furrowing his brow. For those unknown things, Joseph didn't have an urge to bring them inside his mouth, thus showing that he was by no means a big fan of food before traversing the world.

"Let me tell you, this crystalline liquid is the very same kind of liquid that was used by the goddess of youth, Hebe, when she entertained Zeus, the king of the Greek gods who ruled over thunder and lightning. It is a divine object given by Hebe to her followers. Come and try it; it will bring you all sorts of dreams and inspirations and make you forget all your sorrows." Darcy replied in an exaggerated tone like a recitation of the Cid.

"Come on, Darcy, you're not on stage; you're not performing Cid. To be clear, what exactly is this thing?" Joseph's tone was getting a little impatient.

"Ah, O mortal, the endless treasure is before you, but you have no eyes to see it." Darcy continued in that aria-like voice, "Do you love gold? With it, the treasures of Mansa Musa and Alexander will open with a loud blast before your eyes; do you love fantasies? Drink it, and boundless space and deep oceans will open their arms to you'; or are you keen on power? Drink it, and you will become Caesar, become Augustus, or even become Alexander. Isn't that tempting enough?"

"What the hell is it?" Joseph frowned as he said. He could have known that in this day and age, it was a time when all kinds of psychotropic drugs were commonly abused.

"Have you ever heard of Saracin?" Darcy asked.

'Of course I've heard of it, and I know about Assassin's Creed.' With this thought, Joseph said, "Of course, of course I know."

"Then you should also know about the old man of the mountain who tried to assassinate Philip Augustus. Legend has it that he ruled over a rich valley flanked by towering mountains - from which he took his legendary name. Legend has it that in that mysterious valley was one of his gardens, where, according to Marco Polo, he grew an immortal herb. His chosen ones, the assassins, could sor to heaven early if they ate it. Having seen the supreme joy of heaven, they all believed that service to that old man would lead to eternal access to that heaven. So the old man told them to kill whoever they wanted. Even if it meant trekking to the end of the world and walking next to the golden apple tree where Hercules had once been; or facing a venomous torture or even beheading. They all feared nothing because they thought that it was just a way for them to be able to ascend to that paradise that they had briefly visisted. My friend, now the keys to this heaven are before you."

"Indian cannabis!" Joseph said.

"Yeah, that's the stuff!" With an exaggerated grin, Darcy said, "How about it?"

"Alas, Joseph, how much less fun in your life will be because of this! But maybe you really don't need all that much, because you never lack a spark of inspiration. Plus, this attitude you have about dying is kind of similar to my uncle's Darcy saying, "Well, what's wrong with your father? "

"Not sure yet," Joseph said sadly. "But the doctors suspected that he had a tumor growing inside his stomach, causing his stomach to constantly ulcerate and bleed. All in all, it was very dangerous, and the doctors could do almost nothing at all. They figured he wouldn't last much longer. Maybe soon I'll have to leave school and go back to Corsica."

"So you'll be back?" Darcy asked.

"I hope to come back." Joseph said, "Who wants to leave Paris? It's just that, you know I have several other brothers and sisters. My sisters should be fine, but my brothers have to go to school, and that's a lot of money to spend. If anything did happen to my father, as the eldest son of the family, I would have to step up and take all the responsibility of the family."