Don Quixote's Windmill

Shiloh - Posted May 6th 2010

An allegorical novel for anyone interested and in preparation for the New World.
by John Paul Anthony aka Abraxas in Us.

Don Quixote's Windmill
(by E.M for Pacifica Omniscience)​

Inventory:
Chapter One: Don Quixote's Dream and Cavalier Servante'
Chapter Two: The Lance of Cleopatra
Chapter Three: The Battle of Perdition
Chapter Four: Fatherlie's Revenge
Chapter Five: The Dark Night of Sancho Panza
Chapter Six: Armageddon in the Valley of the Windmills
Chapter Seven: Benjamin's Doomsday
Chapter Eight: Sophia's Agony
Chapter Nine: The Door Opens
Chapter Ten: *Dulcinea's Fantasy

Dedication:
This story is dedicated to any would-be Don Quixotes and all budding Dulcineas, waiting for their heroes to rescue them.

Abstract:
Cogito Ergo Sum! Per Ardua Ad Astra! Quod Erat Demonstrandum!

Apology:
My acknowledgement goes to the originator of the idea, namely Miguel De Cervantes.

Code:
Et Nomini Patris Vici Matris! Et Nomini Filio Vidi Filia! Et Nomini Spiritus Sancti Animus Veni Spiritus Sancti Anima!

Copyright:
There is no copyright!

Artworks:
All artworks and sketches are by Helen Roberta Waters created form 1977 to 1983.

The Artist: Helen Roberta Waters; Albury, NSW, Australia


The Author: Anthony Paul Bermanseder; Queanbeyan, NSW, Australia​

Prelude of Cosmic Romeo's Poem to Cosmic Juliet.

​

CHAPTER ONE: DON QUIXOTE'S DREAM AND CAVALIER SERVANTE'

Once upon a time, there lived a man of gallantry and honour in the land of Espaniola.
His name was Donato Don Quixote and he thought highly about living a life filled with chivalry and respect and love for one's family and friends. One night Don Quixote had a very vivid dream; he seemed to talk to himself from some other place of reality.

"Hello Don!", said Don from the other place.

"I am your imagination Don and I would like to tell you about your dreams of a meaningful life and how you can achieve that in your ordinary state of being; when you are awake.
You know that the world around you is in a big mess, so to say. There is no respect between the people, so little consideration of helping one another and so many regulations about what one can do or not do.
Everyone is just trying to get lots of things, money and conquests and fame and fortune in a kind of vanity and coloured in those things of greed and violence.
There often is just so little love left in people, it makes the people here, in the other place, very sick at heart and mind. We, all the other people here are trying very hard to wake you, the people at your place up, out from your slumberness in your wakefulness.

You can help us Don!

You still harbour a kind of selfrespect within you, when you are awake and when you consider the dire state of the conscious world. When you wake up, you will recall this conversation and then after thinking about it, you can make a decision if you would like to help us, that is all the people here.
Should you agree to help, then you will be able to see things of our world here and act accordingly. Now the other people around you might or might not see what you see. This means that most people will call you a fool, crazy, or out-of-your-mind.

And you will be, because you will look like through a window from your world into our world. We are the imaginary people here, living in an imaginary place of pure fantasy.
What you call your past is our heavenly above and what you term your future is our hellish below. Your present moment is our Now, an event which to us marries the above to the below, heaven to hell and the past to the future.

So Don, seeing into our world through the window of your mindful imagination will allow you to see the present as All That Is and so you can view all that exists as a construct of your own imagination, which is of course myself as the imagination of yourself, named Don Quixote.

If you agree to help us, then you will become an adventurer for us and our Now. You shall follow the grail of an imaginary hero, our champion, and embarking on a rescue mission; namely to free our queen, held bondage by the windmill devils.
Then, upon contemplation, you will learn to use your visionary window as communication channel and so be able to receive more detailed information, should the situation and circumstances require it. I shall leave you now, awake well Don!"

Dreamtimes​

Don Quixote woke up with a spinning headache.
"What a dream, sort of talking to myself", he thought aloud as he recalled the information apparently given to himself by his alter ego or higher self or Id of whatever. Don decided to help the fantasy people.
"Gee, maybe everyone has got such an imaginary persona. If enough of us here gather our dreamtime forces, then this quest, whatever it is, should be able to be concluded in a positive manner for all concerned."


"I'll come along Don!", said Sancho Panza, Don's best friend in the land of Espaniola and who had come to share breakfast with Donato Don Quixote.
There and then had Don Quixote shared his dreamy experience with Sancho.
"You do not know really just what you would like to do, but I am your mate and what are friends for, but to help one another. I'm sure those other mirror-people will help us to fulfil our quest; it's their idea anyway."
"Thank you Sancho. I hope this window in my mind opens soon. Then we will know what to do next," replied Don appreciatively.

Don and Sancho were sitting outside Don's house, a typical Espaniolean villa with a roomy verandah, sipping Cadizian ales, when Don suddenly jerked.

"There is something Sancho. I'm fully awake, yet I feel something stirring in my mind.
Yes, it's like a presence. I can feel words forming in my mind. It's not a voice, it's me, my thoughts, but tuning into something. I'll try to use words to describe what is going on. Just listen Sancho, what I say and what you can make of it.
Cavalier Servante'! I am your channel Don. You will be able to feel me, that is all.
Then you should use your imagination and your vocabulary to describe what you feel. That is the only mystery. The window between imagination and reality is a mirror.

Pure thought, pure abstract imagination created the physical universe out of a quantum singularity, a point of infinity. This creation became mirrored as the left side of the imagination and the right side of the physical reality, relative to how you perceive it. You can think of it as debits or negative numbers on the left and credits or positive numbers on the right. So the Zero becomes the mirror. Or you can call it the 12th dimension on the left, the 10th dimension on the right and the 11th dimension at the zero point, the quantum singularity.

So Don and Sancho; the world you live in is reality of the 10th dimension.
The world, where it all came from is the imagination of the 12th dimension.
The problem for the 12th is the fact that to create the 10th as a physically real or nonimaginary reality, part of the 12th got lost in your world so to say.
Effectively, half of the original imagination of the creating energy got lost in your physical reality and the imaginator desires it back rather urgently.

The continuance of our world depends on getting it back, this lost fantasy stuck in physical reality. It is like a male piece of the whole has lost its female mate.
So what we are asking you to do, is to act the lost half and by your living the creator of your own world lose half of your reality. This means, that the world of your reality will think you crazy.
But you or the two of you or anyone else who can play the game and help us, will have to do just that. There is no easy way out.

As the Now is the mirror between reality and imagination and just as your image in a physical mirror is a fact; only the doing things in the Now can heal the big rift and close the great divide between creator and creation, between imagination and reality.
Living and acting in a real world, but presuming exactly half of that reality is actually imaginary; will allow the mirror to reflect half of you imagined reality back into the 12th dimension of pure fantasy. You see in the real world you still have imagination, but you call this imagination unreal, relative to your physical perceptions.

But that's the bit we desire, your so called fantasies. Your imagination becmes real and your reality a dream.
But to give it to us, you need to live in the reality as though it were a dream, unreal relative to you, yet consensus reality to most.
So you will see faces in the rocks and you can name them. You will see spaceships in the clouds and be able to concoct stories about their comings and their goings. You will see devils and monsters, where other people see towers and caves and mountains; Angels and fairies and leprechauns, you'll see them all.
You will see love in people, where others see crime and hatred and fear.
You will begin to feel the pains of the creation, the cries of the trees, the mumblings of the mountains and the calls of the animals in birth and in death.

Well Don and Sancho, you shall feel all of those things and much more with your mind, that is the mystery. You will find your heart a thinking lovemind and your mind a feeling loveheart, such is the reflection.
Our queen is held hostage by the lord of the windmill devils. It's name is Fatherlie and our queen is known as Sophia.
Should you succeed to separate the Fatherlie and Sophia, then you will have split the fake image from the wisdom of the world and then Sophia will be able to escape the underworld and return to the overworld. There is a special dispensation for all heroes, which participate in Sophia's rescue mission.
Our queen has decreed, that every hero shall gain her hand in marriage and become king in her kingdom. You see Don and Sancho; our queen is wisdom personified as creation. So the hero's reward is to gain Sophia's wisdom, personified in a beloved; a queen for every king.

As your imagination channel, I know of your love for Dulcinea, a dream beloved in your mind. You shall find a real Dulcinea in a princess of your reality and so will Sancho meet his beloved.
I shall leave you now. Prepare well my friends. Beware of Fatherlie.
It is the master of deception and utilises things like your pride and selfesteem to thwart your endeavours. To fight Fatherlie, you will suffer humiliation, physical pain, emotional anguish and mental despair.
You will be laughed at as fools and called arrogant and stupid and many will dismiss you as hopeless dreamers or selfdeluded idiots.
Good-Bye, until we meet again. This is Cavalier Servante'."


Don Quixote paused and took a long sip from his bottle of Cadizian ale, he had held grasped in his hand throughout his monologual experience.

"What can you make of it Sancho? Seems like we have to visit the windmills and see what awaits us there. But I do like that bit about Dulcinea. Gee, I really would like to get married and live like a family man one day."

"Yeah Don. Me too. I have always liked little Pasqualina down in the provinces. But she's from a rich family, wine merchants. I could never ask for her hand as poor Sancho Panza; but as hero I could and I think she likes me. If I just had more than I do; property, money and social status.
So I'm all for it. Even if I do not understand all this reality and imagination bit. Do you understand that Don?", asked Sancho.

"Kind of Sancho. I'm pretty well read, erudite on philosophy and that sort of thing.
This reality around us is made up of what the majority of people call real and measurable things in space and time, objects and things to touch and perceive with the senses; like the ale bottle in your hand, this verandah and my old and loyal mare Rosinante and your faithful crippled dog Benjamin.
But Sancho, there is also the dreamworld of fantasy, fairy tales and strange phenomena, which the majority of people do not take serious at all. They call those imaginary worlds of ghosts and demons, giants and witches, magic and childishness.
Our quest is to switch the two perceptions around. To see this masterdevil Fatherlie to be specific, at the place of the windmills. Somehow, I don't know yet how, we'll see something where other people see nothing at all or windmills at most.
But let us make preparations. I'll saddle Rosinante with provisions for us and you still have Jose', your old donkey still in your stables, have you not?", asked Don Quixote.

"Yes Don; Jose' is still alive. He's getting on now, but he'll like a trip, to move around a bit, as long as we take it slowly. But I am worried about Benjamin. He's getting very lame and can't walk either very fast or very long.
And he'll fret without me. Who'll look after him without me?", replied Sancho Panza.

"Never mind Sancho. We just take Benjamin with us. I've got a carriage basket, which I can tie onto Rosinante. Benji can travel in that!", Don replied reassuredly.

And so Don Quixote and Sancho Panza prepared themselves to go into battle for the imaginary world; to follow their dream of happiness and chivalry and a hero's honour in the form of a double-wedding between Don and Dulcinea and between Sancho and Pasqualina.
Jose', the wrecked donkey and the crippled dog Benjamin were going to be the best of men and the honour of the maidens belonged to loyal mare Rosinante and another lady yet to be determined.
Following an ordinary sleepful night, Don and Sancho set off to the place of the windmills to face the invisible; Fatherlie, kidnapper of the wisdom of the world; Sophia, queen of the imaginary shadow-people of the 12th dimension.

Monumento a Cervantes (Madrid) --- Don Quixote with Sancho Panza​

CHAPTER TWO: THE LANCE OF CLEOPATRA

The place of the windmills was a day's journey from Don Quixote's villa. It was a populated area, with many farmers and toilers of the field working together to edge out a living for themselves and their local communities.
The predominant trade was one of milling the grains of the land to produce flour by milling the wheat and other cereals by grinding the grains between millstones and sieving the ground meal to grade the various flours.
The energy to power the grain was supplied by millstones grinding against one another under the action of a turning shaft, rotating by the movement of oblique blades radiating from the shaft at the front of the windmills. The strength of the winds so determined the speed of the shaft's rotation and so the progress of the milling work. The energy of the winds so became transformed into mechanical work.

Don Quixote rode upon Rosinante with Sancho Panza upon Jose' the old donkey next to him. Benjamin, the crippled dog was squatting in a carrying basket, dangling from Rosinante's left side.

"Hey Don, do we need any weapons to fight those devils? We haven't got any with us at the moment", asked Sancho turning to Don.

"I've thought of that too", replied Don.

"Not far from here is Martinez's Inn. I've heard that Martinez is a returned soldier. He's fought for the king of Espaniola long ago, when royal bloodlines separated the rulers from the common classes. Martinez has travelled far and is thought to have a collection of battle-proven, even mysterious weapons. Up there Sancho; that oakwooden dwelling is Martinez's place. Let us rest there and make some enquiries."

Spanish Frigate​

After comforting Rosinante with some hay and water and offering the same to Jose'; Don and Sancho and Benjamin introduced themselves to Martinez the innkeeper and weapon collector.
Sitting around one of the guest tables; Benji underneath, chewing on a juicy bone, compliments of Martinez, Don explained their quest.

"Strange story this", said Martinez."
"But it is not for me to question motives for battle. I'm an old hand, a warrior of the finest class. I've fought at Gibraltar, in Ethiopia and in Libya. Come to think of Africa. In one of the Hannibalean battles I took part; there did I meet this merchant and he was very eager to get rid of a certain lance, a magnificent work of art really.
But this merchant, I recall his name as Thothanubis, he said that lance was cursed. It was just after the last battle, when we decimated the Hannibaleans in the battle of Gizeh. Thothanubis was very eager to get away, to India, Tibet, he said and so he gave me this lance for nothing; but warned me not to sell it for any price.

He said, that selling or trading this weapon would unlock the gates of all the hells, so great was the cursing on it. The only way it could be used, was to give it free of charge for the purpose of a noble quest or something like that.
Now your story of battling it out with some unseen enemy to rescue an invisible queen called wisdom sounds very crazy to me, but this is honourable alright and I've got this feeling deep inside, that it is ok to give you two this mysterious weapon. Let me get it from my collector's items."

Martinez left Don and Sancho to the ales and food , he had provided and returned with a long, coloured and segmented lance, made of ebony wood and a bronzen handle. Placing the weapon in front of his guests, the Lance of Cleopatra glistened in the sunlight shining into his inn.

"There are strange encodings on it, a foreign language, hieroglyphics or something. Probably to do with that curse, but Cleopatra was a queen of Egypt, that much I can read. That's why I've called it Cleopatra's Lance", said Martinez.

The Lance was a collection of ten ebonite pieces, each piece able to fit with any other as cyclindrical tubes. The inscriptions read as:

1. Black Segment: Cubiscum Maria Matris Infinitas ad 0;
2. Brown Segment: Terrestris Urielio Antonius Pollux ad 30;
3. Red Segment: Tetrahedrium Leonina Rosa Libidos ad 60;
4. Orange Segment: Ignistii Michaelus Douggis Oggero ad 90;
5. Yellow Segment: Dodecahedro Sarona Catharina Libertatis ad 120;
6. Green Segment: Icosahedrii Dorothea Iunia Amobilis ad 150;
7. Cyan Segment: Aerius Gabrielis Alanus Castor ad 180;
8. Blue Segment: Aquarius Raphaelii Hariolus Heia as 240;
9. Magenta Segment: Octahedra Paulina Anna Formosus ad 300;
10. White Segment: Lancea Vanitas Vica Potae Cleopatra ad 360.

Martinez​

"Well, I just hope our Cavalier Servante' can help us to decipher all of that", exclaimed Sancho, looking at Donato Quixote.

"Hmm, the words are an ancient code, which I have come across before in my philosophical studies. But I can't interpret it yet. The colours are complementary colours and rainbow colours too. Red and Green and Blue make White and Yellow and Cyan and Magenta mixed together give you Black. Red and Yellow gives Orange and Red and Black makes Brown. Also it starts with Black and ends in White and that is like an interchange of mixed clours in paint and in light as the complements. The numbers at the end are just the going around a circle, starting at 0 degrees and ending there after one revolution of 360 degrees.
I'm sure that is what that means. So you can look at this lance as something straight and yet somehow being like a circle with no beginning nor end", explained Don Donato Quixote, the philosopher.

"It's all yours my friends. I wish you luck in your battles. I would feel honoured, should my present ennoble your quest", said Martinez.

Don and Sancho had decided to move on and after thanking their host for his generosity; the foursome travelled again, slowly, towards the valley of the windmills, now just a few hours of walking pace away.
A short while later, Don Quixote suddenly stopped Rosinante in her gait.

"Sancho, it's here again. Less aprupt than before. I'm getting used to it by now I guess.
Yes, I'm Cavalier Servante'. The lance you have found is a magical weapon of antiquity. It has ten parts, because it got nine lives to mend itself. Nine parts can you lose in battle to enter the deciding fight with just one piece left. It will then become a duel to the death. Every battle will weaken the magic weapon, but strengthen the enemy. So great courage is required to continue the war.
Like a Russian doll, the lance without an aim gets smaller as the hero comes nearer the lord of the devils. The first devil is called Beelzebub Minoris, antiid of the ego; the ninth devil is named Beelzebub Majoris, id of the antiego. The tenth devil is Fatherlie, encompassing them all, lord of the windmill devils. Defeat Fatherlie and Sophia, queen of wisdom is free. Destroying Fatherlie obliterates the last part of Cleopatra.

Even the bronzen handle will be no more. In its place you shall find and abandoned black kitten, the familiar of queen Cleopatra. But it is a long haul, a tiring siege even to come near Fatherlie. He's a master of deceit and will apply all his minions mercilessly to destroy your resolve to carry on in your arduous quest for liberty and freedom.
The second devil is Belial, the soul-squeezer, but the elemental earth can help you upon alliance to the heavenly queen. One heavenly queen and four princesses and four princes can join you, one by one, should you show faithfulness in defeat and indomitability of your spirit to trust in love against the odds and a devilish kingdom eager too crush you into the dust as the laughing stock of the entire world.

I shall leave you now as the window to your imagination. Prepare well for your first battle against Beelzebub Minoris. My love remains. I am Cavalier Servante', your unlimited creative imagination."

Don Quixote relaxed again in Rosinante's saddle.

"Whew, Sancho. Where is all this information coming from. How did I make up those names for the devils? I must have read about those names someplace before. Yes, that's what it is. This window thing is like my subconscious memory. All the things, this data coming into my mind is stored as often forgotten labels, names, places. But I've never known how many undiscovered things are in my mind; my imaginations, my fantasies," exclaimed a somewhat baffled Don Quixote.

"I do not know how you do it Don," said Sancho Panza, 'but I surely wish I could find my own window and tap all this stuff in my own memory."

"You've got to start reading books and study the worlds, Sancho. That is how you get the vocabulary and the raw data about things", replied Don Quixote, the student of life.

"Guess you're right Don. Once I start I'll probably never stop this learning. I've heard that Pasqualina often visits the libraries. She'll probably has her own Cavalier Servante' like you. I'd better start to educate myself to keep up with you two."

"Life itself is the best teacher, Sancho. You just need to be aware of things and think about just what you experience. But books are a great help, because you must visualise the things you read about to make sense out of them. Yeah Sancho, when our honorouble futures crystallize, then there will be eight of us in four bodily manifestations. Dulcinea and Pasqualina with their Sophias and you and me with our Cavalier Servante's".

"There are the windmills Don. And look at the many people working. This is a busy place, like a market," said Sancho pointing towards the valley of the windmills spreading out before them.

"This big windmill on that hill gives me the creeps, Sancho", replied Don. "And yes I do count 9 smaller ones, around the big one. We have arrived in hell my friend.

"But I can't see any devils Don. Only windmills and the people all seem very normal. Working and laughing and swearing and doing things. Where are the devils Don? I can't see or feel any at all."

"Don't be deceived Sancho. Of course you can't see any devils. But I can feel them alright. And the master devil is in that big windmill alright. There is Fatherlie, laughing at us, pointing his claws at you and me, no it's just me now and he says he is going to have our selfesteem for breakfast, our pride in ourselves for lunch and our sanity for dinner.
Look at me Sancho, I'm shaking, not because of fear, but my nerves are getting at me, because I can feel the evil energy emanating."

Don Quixote dismounted from Rosinante to stop his legs from shaking. Don had seen Fatherlie in all his glory; not with his physical eyes, but the imaginary vision had been very clear and unambiguous indeed. Fatherlie was as big as the windmill and his power derived from the rotation of the angled four blades, which supplied the mechanical energy to the millstones from the gentle breeze which was blowing across the valley of the windmills.

"Sancho, we'll have to somehow stop the devils power by interfering with the movement of the blades. Just momentarily halting the rotation of the main supply shaft, will end the windenergy to be used by the devils for their evil purposes. Stopping the mechanics of the millstones will end the transformation of air energy into earth energy. So we'll shortcircuit the hellish circle. When the rotation restarts, the evil presence will have gone and the windmill's energies can be used by the angels."

"But why is this energy evil in the first place?", asked Sancho.

"Because that's the curse, based on fundamental principles. I just know, without understanding it yet. It's elemental, somehow bringing opposites together, like earth and water or air with fire. But you see this small windmill down at the right. This is Beelzebub Minoris. Get ready for attack Sancho. I have Cleopatra. I shall charge at him, with you backing me up,"
replied Don Quixote, rising Cleopatra and with Rosinante pacing.

 

CHAPTER THREE: THE BATTLE OF PERDITION

Old Rosinante was huffing and puffing as she tried to comply with Don Quixote's urgings to gallop faster than her old legs and heart allowed. With Cleopatra's Lance pointing straight forward; the duo stampeded past a variety of onlookers, which had stopped their various activities to watch the comic procession of the worn out mare with her knightly rider pass by.
And was this not a dog swinging violently in a basket hanging from the old mare's saddle?
And now there was an ancient looking donkey following behind, with a rustic short man on top.
What was going on? Is someone playing a joke or is some sly director shooting a film, a sort of comedy?

Clown of the Realms​

"This clown is heading straight for Manuel's windmill. He's going to get hurt! , screamed a nameless voice out of the crowd.
More and more onlookers were coalescing in clusters, groups, to discuss this strange occurrence in the valley of the windmills.

Don Quixote was now only a short distance away from Manuel's windmill. It's four blades were rotating at what was known as fair speed, about 7 revolutions per minute; as Cleopatra hit one of them.
Don Quixote lost his grip on the Lance; the shear force of his forward momentum twisted him sidewise and in a magnificent somersault, Don Quixote catapulted through the air to land painfully in a pitch, set aside for collecting fermenting compost.
Next to the windmill stood Manuel's chalet, being the windmill keeper's cabin. Manuel had just come out of the entrance to his chalet to witness Don Quixote's uncermonious acrobatics. Manuel reached out to help Don out of the ditch.

"My dear Sir. What are you doing in my compost field? Did you get hit by a windmill blade? It is rather dangerous to go near them", asked the windmill keeper.

"This is hard to explain. Thank you for helping me. I could have fallen even harder, were it not for the softness of your pitch", replied Don Quixote.

Don explained his deed to Manuel. Sancho had arrived to collect old Benjamin, which had also been thrown out of his basket and Sancho had calmed down Rosinante, which had found herself in a very confused state. What was Don up to, Rosinante thought in horsetalk; he's never done anything like that before.

"My dear Sir. There is no devil in my windmill!", protested Manuel.

"But I've seen him, grinning at me, as I approached him. And wait, let me check something out", replied Don.

Don Quixote stepped on to pick up Cleopatra, laying near the entrance to Manuel's cabin.
Sancho had introduced Don and himself formally to Manuel, as Don returned with a big grin on his face.

"This is Manuel, Don. I have introduced ourselves!", explained Sancho.

"And I've killed Beelzebub Minoris, Sancho, Manuel. I was right. I know, because the black part of Cleopatra's Lance is shattered. That means that the angel of the id of the ego has overpowered the antiid of the ego and so the first principality of the devil kingdom. Ha, I don't feel the bruising any more. We won the first battle Sancho".

Manuel​

Manuel was standing there scratching his head and ever so gently shaking it, gazing knowingly at Sancho. Sancho hmmd.

"Don is well read Manuel. He's studied many things. He normally knows exactly what he is talking about. It's this reality and imagination conflict of course. That's what Don says."

"We have an excellent medical practitioner here Sancho. Maybe your friend has caught a little too much sun. You have travelled for a while and the climate can get hot in the valley, what with all those westerly winds around here. It would be no surprise to catch something like a cold or a bug."

"Manuel, I'm as rational and clearheaded and well as can be", interjected Don Quixote. "When Cleopatra hit the blade of your windmill; it stopped the rotation of the main shaft, even if for the minutest moment. Can't you see, that then the evil heart of Beelzebub Minoris also ended to beat, causing him to die a devil's death in a heart attack - cardiac arrest?"

"No my dear Don Donato. I certainly can't see that. You are having a vivid attack of the fantasy bends, implying there are devils living in my windmill. There are definitely no devils in my windmill. I should know. I have lived here for 20 years and have been the windmill's operator for 13 of those years. In times past, I have repaired the windmill's blades and generally maintained the operation of this windmill. I've never come across any devils in whatever shape or form," Manuel said agitatedly.

"There was only one devil and he is no more. The angel of the true identity has taken over and from now on your windmill is no longer cursed", explained Don Quixote.

'Well everything is alright then", said Sancho Panza in a relieved tone of voice. "Let's leave it there. No harm was done, except to the devil maybe. Don we should look after Rosinante, Jose' and Benjamin; they had quite an unusual experience you know."

"You're right Sancho. Will you excuse us please Manuel. We do apologise for causing you disturbance. But certain things just require to be done," agreed Don Quixote.

"Good-bye Sancho and Don. I shall try to explain to the folks around here what has happened," said Manuel preparing to talk to his fellow community dwellers, which were still looking on in groups, eager for an exposition on the strange events, they had witnessed.

As the foursome gathered, Don winked to Sancho and said: "Sancho this quest is going to require a lot of strategy. There are not only devils in the windmills, but in people too. Manuel had a minor devil, making him so sceptical. It was a pride devil. Us seeing the devil of the windmill and not him, after living here for so long, made him a little angry, as his integrity was being challenged."

"I didn't see any devil either Don, only you claim to have seen one".

"I know Sancho. This is going to be a spot of trouble one day. But don't worry we'll work it out with help of Cavalier Servante'."

"That might be so Don. I am worried though, that people here are going to get upset, if we keep on attacking their windmills. Manuel seemed to be a peaceloving and gentle man to me."

"That's why we must plan every move from now on. There are at least 9 more master devils to confront. And I have this feeling that the first victory was the easy battle. It will get harder and harder from now on. And we have lost the surprise element. The people here now will be suspicious towards us. They might even ask us to leave. Any ideas Sancho?"

"Let me think Don. We could attack the next devil at night; or we could pretend to leave."

"We'll need the surprise again Sancho. We must do the unexpected. Yeah, I've got an idea. Let's play it cool and find a place to rest, to spend the night. We can make enquiries. Maybe there are more isolated windmills we can battle first."

"Will you charge at all the windmills like you did before?", asked Sancho Panza.

"Only as a last resort Sancho. Somehow the Lance of Cleopatra must be used to stop the smooth rotation of the windmill blades. Maybe we can devise alternative methods. But charge I will; if I must. I am going to find my Dulcinea in rescuing Queen Sophia!"

Sancho sighed: "Yes, I can't wait to stand in front of Pasqualina as her hero either."

Don Quixote and Sancho Panza found suitable accomodation with provisions for their fourlegged friends. They had become the talk of the locals by now and evening had arrived in the Windmiller's Inn, where Don and Sancho had found residence for the night.
The colloquial atmosphere in the inn was electric. For some reason, the inn was filled to capacity. People which hardly went out for a quiet drink or a bite to eat, had decided to go out tonight.

"They are checking us out", whispered Sancho. "I've heard someone call us the mad windmill attackers from the north".

"I do understand Sancho. Come let us introduce ourselves to that elderly lady over there in the corner. She is sitting all alone. I'll ask her some pertinent questions", replied Don Quixote.

"Good evening Ma'am. May we allow ourselves to share your company? I am Don Donato Quixote of La Mancha and this is my friend Sancho Panza. We are travellers from the north of Espaniola?"

"You're welcome strangers. I am Maria, the local herbalist. I know about cures and sickness of the mind. The plants are my friends and the minerals. I've come here to check out a couple of crazy visitors, I've heard are out to fight devils in windmills. So you are the two! I make up my own mind about things. Can I feel your hands Don? I have healing hands. I'll know if you are mentally deluded or not by just touching you. My sacred acorns will tell me."

Maria grabbed Don's hands as both he and Sancho sat down around the herbalist's table.

"Hmm, you have a very strong nervous energy Donato. I would say, that there is definitely something the matter with you."

"I am fine Maria! It's just that I can feel the unseen worlds. I only see it in my imagination and not physically at all."

"No no Don; I didn't imply either a physical or a mental malady. What the matter with you is, is indeed very familiar to me. My dear Don Quixote; you are hopelessly in love with someone. This is the strength of the vibrations which I feel."

"Yeah, it's the lady in my dreams, Dulcinea. I haven't found her yet. I do not even know what she looks like; but I'll know when I meet her."

"The love for the unseen can become like an obsession. It also is the only way true spiritual love can become manifested in the physical reality of the body and the senses. A prince creates the princess in his mind and then projects this dream into the real world and the lady which can match her dream of her prince with the prince's projection will become the queen for the king. That is the natural way things are to be, the law for all. Even the flowers and the fauna obey that law of nature. I should know. I have lived in that law all of my life and many others."

"Maria, you might be able to help us", said Don Quixote.

"I'm glad we talked. I feel most people here just will not understand what our quest is all about. May I explain our endeavour?"

Maria nodded knowingly and Don and Sancho explained their adventures hitherto. About the imaginary Don and Cavalier Servante' and the Lance of Cleopatra and the devils holding captive the wisdom of the worlds in Queen Sophia.

"A most noble deed my friends; and yet so magnificently irrational. It is so unlikely to succeed; that it has no option but to succeed if the auspices and elemental energies harmonise just right. I shall try to help you. I am well established here. I know the valley of the windmills like no other resident. For 54 years, I have lived near the adjoining woods, the meadows and the hills and the river El Nino' winding itself through this valley.
My cabin of Oakwood is suitable in the eastern corner of the valley. Three windmills are nearby; one of them abandoned, derelict. The other two windmills are operational. They are worked by two families; one the Feliciano's and the other the Ramirez's. Alfonso Ramirez and his wife Mariquita are away to visit Mariquita's parents in the west.
If you like, you two can visit me tomorrow at Oakwood East, right next to El Nino' and plan your next step under my hospitality", ended Maria.

"Thank you Maria and mucho gracias. We shall accept your offer. Sancho?", asked Don Quixote.

Sancho Panza nodded and said: " I just had a brilliant idea Don, about our next move. There's no need for you to charge at the devils anymore; because when I was a little boy; I've learned something."

"What was that Sancho?"

"Aye, Amigo", said Sancho exhuberantly; "I've learned how to build a catapult."


CHAPTER FOUR: FATHERLIE' S REVENGE

A glorious morning broke across the valley of the windmills, as Don and Sancho arrived at Oakwood East, placated next to El Nino' amidst a setting of ancient oaken trees.
A reddish chestnut tailed russet brown bird was about to cease it's nocturnal songs of the breeding season; sitting upon a low branch of the great oak tree next to Maria's cabin.

Maria's Cottege​

Maria was sitting under the branch listening intently to the nightingale's mating song, that of the feathered troubadour.

"Good morning Don; good morning Sancho", bade Maria.

"Please meet Infinity, the Nightingale; the two of us are very familiar friends, you might say. We talk to each 0ther as mates of the love within our souls.
Four more of our airborne friends you may meet in this valley, should you decide to extend your stay.
you decide to extend your stay.
Tony Solomon, the Eagle oversees the entire valley; he soars very high above it to get the overall picture of the kingdom here.
Douglas, the Golden Raven patrols the realm; he's the ranger of the valley, reporting on the events and reharmonises any outbreaks of illness or dis-ease. Doug told me about you two, that's how I knew to look for you in the "Windmiller's Inn".

Alan, the sagacious Seahawk works in close association with El Nino'. Alan connects' the water to the air; he's an excellent diver too.
He so mirrors the things of the air, the windy communications back in to El Nino' and so the moody waters and all their branchings.
Harry, the Wise Faloon relates all the elements to each other.
He often visits all the valley dwellers one by one or in groups to share his great wisdom about the overall harmony of the elements.
All five birds are like patrons here. Infinity looks after the inner substance, the Plasma of the Mind; Tony protects the Earth, Doug the Fire, Alan the Water and Harry the Air.

But look here is ample room for your loyal fourlegged friends to find creature comforts; grass and water directly from El Nino'.
I shall serve some refreshments out of my larder, excuse me please."

Don Quixote and Sancho Panza settled Rosinante and Jose' near a shady spot beneath Abraxas, the ancient Oak tree and gathered around the oakwood table and matching chairs to await the return 0f their hostess, which had disappeared into her simple, but roomy fourtiered cabin. Maria returned with the speciality of the local produce; Aniseeded leaven Ryebread, Cordobian cheese and ham from Malaga.

"Make yourselves at home my friends. You may serve the food. I have a few bottles of Sevillian wine to come."

Benjamin was happily inspecting a bowl of ham and pea soup, containing the stockbone, as Sancho explained his idea of the catapult.

"As a kid, a lad of 12 or 13, I came across this old book on Roman warfare and decided to build a catapult, one of the weapons the Roman armies used to conquer besieged towns or cities.
All I need is some kind of platform, onto which I can mount springs of flexible wooden branches and some ropes to put the bent wood under tension.
Then a kind of launching mechanism, a leather pouched belt maybe; and we can hurl Cleopatra, the magic lance at our targets," explained Sancho, the engineer of Roman antiquity.

"There are ropes next to the cabin; I have an old leather gourd inside, which might suit your purposes and strong durable oaken branches can be found anywhere in this oak tree tract", said Maria.

"Let' s give it a go!", agreed Don.

"But Maria what is this defunct windmill about, where is it? The one, which you have mentioned yesterday in the inn?"

"You see that clearing, where El Nino' curves to the west. Just around the corner there is the windmill of Carlos Lopez, who died 3 years ago. Since Carlos had no heirs, no family at all and this windmill is furthest from the town center, the marketplace; noone claimed it or desired to work in it. So it became abandoned; but the windmill blades still continue to follow the enticings of the wind", replied Maria, looking at Don, preemtying his next question.

"Good, when we face Carlos' windmill, then Cavalier Servante' will tell me what devil it is. But I would say it is Belial, the soul-squeezer; the brown segment of Cleopatra is now the tip of the magic lance."

Sancho had satisfied his culinary desires and had made himself rady to scout the surroundings for the equipment he needed to build the catapult.

"I shall prepare a room for you two and Benji. Who knows how long your adventure here in the valley of the windmills will last," Maria excused herself.

And so in the forenoon Sancho Panza with help from Don Quixote built Julius Cäsar, the Roman catapult to conquer the windmill devils and beginning at Oakwood East in the land of Espaniola.
Maria's leather gourd served as launching pad and Don had found four wooden spiked wheels mounted on a wrecked horse carriage, once used to carry the flour of Carlos Lopez from his mill to the market place.
Sancho had modified the old carriage to serve as a platform and a natural Y-shaped oaken sprig became the projector for Cleopatra, mounted through a tightly fitting hole through the platform.
Both Rosinante and Jose' could take turns to pull Julius Cäsar in the military manouvers by using a number of ropes, which formed part of Maria's equipment to secure her cabin from the storms, which seasonally visited Southern Espaniola from the great Atlantic ocean in the west.

"The big father of the winds, letting everyone know, that he is alive and well by his summerly calling cards", as the herbalist used to explain to the town folk.

Just after noon, Rosinante had pulled Julius Cäsar around the bend, following El Nino's flowing path and the abandoned windmill of Carlos Lopez came in to full view of the strategic warriors and their weapons.

"Noone is around, this should be easy", said Sancho, petting old Benji, which was hobbling beside him.

"It's Belial alright! ", explained Don.

"I can feel him, and as soon as I feel the fiend, my imagination can construct pictures and give him form.
There is the soul-squeezer, the second principality of the devilish realm, the contraction of the mind, opposing the angel of expansion. I shall position Julius a spear throws distance from this windmill and pierce Belial's evil heart."

"Your devilish grimace shall cease to greet the morning sun", shouted Don Quixote, shaking his fists at the imaginary windmill devil Belial.

Sancho Panza began to position Julius Cäsar the required distance from the windmill's face.
The blades were rotating at medium speed, about 10 cycles per minute.

"A little bit more to the left. Load Cleopatra. Tighten the ropes", Don issued the military commands, as he and Sancho calculated by rule of thumb just how the parabolic kinematics of Cleopatra's flight path would impact upon the circular movement of the windmill blades.

Don and Sancho pulled the Y-spring into position and balanced the magic lance with auxilliary wooden stick supports and flaxen fibres, compliment of Maria.
The breeze had picked up quite a bit of speed, about 16 rotations per minute.

"I can feel the evil vibrations in the wind. Belial is trying to scare us away", said Don to Pancho.

"Get ready to meet your doom, you emissary from hell!", grinned Don, as he prepared himself to release Cleopatra, by severing the supporting rope, which held the Egyptian queen under tension.

Rosinante and Jose' were resting peacefully, grazing a little distance away and old Benjamin was standing next to Julius, with his ears pricked.

"This reminds Benjamin of our happy times together", said Sancho.

"We used to roam the woods and the hillsides. Benji was such a good retriever. Bringing back the sicks and rocks I used to throw for him."

"Fire!"

Don's shout was accompanied with a slash of his heirloom dagger, the Quixotean Stiletto and for generations an emblem of Quixotean chivalry.
Cleopatra wobbled only slightly as she left the tight embrace of Julius Cäsar.
A short moment later she hit the windmill of Carlos Lopez; attempting to find a hole in the circumferential masonry of Cadizian bricks.
For a moment, Cleopatra was sticking there, horizontally, just about digging herself into a cleft between two bricks.
Then the windmill blade caught up with the perpendicular invader of its airspace and told the magic lance in no uncertain terms to get out of its way.
A point of collision; a stopping of the rotor shaft for just an instant; then a violent vibration of Cleopatra and the magic weapon broke under the force of impact, the brown tip of the lance remaining embedded in between two bricks. The brown part of the Egyptian curse had found a new home, and the remainder of Cleopatra fell to the ground below.

"We got him. We killed the soul-sucker!", shouted a delighted Don Quixote.

"Yes and my idea about the catapult paid off", exclaimed a proud Sancho Panza, turning to shake hands with Don Quixote.

"Hey what is Benjamin doing Sancho?", Don had suddenly seen Sancho's old companion jump towards the windmill where Cleopatra was laying.

"Benji! Come back! Don't go there!", screamed Sancho, as Benjamin got hit by one of the returning arms of the windmill cross.

Benjamin was struck with an impacting force, which lifted him off his crippled legs and slung him through the air.
Benji was comatose: before he hit the ground.
Sancho rushed to his beloved canine's side; a deep gashing wound ran across Benji' s left side with blood pouring out to soak his master' s chest and arms, as he hugged and cuddled the corpse of his lame dog.
Intense tears of emotional agony rolled down Sancho's rosy cheeks.

"Benji, my 'Benji, my dog!
Come back, don't leave me here all alone. I'm so lonely without you!

Sancho Panza cried the tears of the loss of Man's best friend; loyal and faithful and true, the way any man wishes his woman to be.
How often had Benji slept on Sancho's modest bed; happy and contented just to be with Sancho, feeling loved and wanted.
During the cold winter nights, when Sancho and Benja had often warmed each 0ther and Sancho had dreamt of the bliss to lay there with Pasqualina in his arms.
The crippled dog had played Pasqualina's role, not as feminine beloved, but as companion, as best friend or a male intimacy, only a man and his dog can understand.

Pasqualina​

And now Benjamin was dead!
Never again would he lay at Sancho Panza's feet, that special way, the way only loyal dogs lay at their master's feet.
Sancho would lay in his bed alone; dreaming about the times gone by, when Benji shared his life; and longing for future times with the beautiful Pasqualina.

"Oh Don! What am I going to do now. No other dog can ever take Benji's place. I can't replace my Benjamin. I'm so sad; so sad!"

Don Quixote was standing next to Sancho, with sorrowful furrows across his forehead.

"I can feel your grief and pain Sancho. I experienced the dying of two of my dogs too, right in my arms. The feeling of losing someone you love so much is an overwhelming anguish. Toby and Struppy died that way and I then dug their graves with my bare hands under tears and emotional sufferings.
I can hear Fatherlie, the master of all master devils laugh at us right now from across the valley.
He's behind all this.
Even if it just looks like an unfortunate accident; Benji attempting to retrieve Cleopatra."

"Oh Don, I just don't know about all this devil stuff anymore. Benji would still be alive, if we wouldn't have come here to chase the invisible."

 

CHAPTER FIVE: THE DARK NIGHT OF SANCHO PANZA

Tony Solomon, the Eagle and protector of the Earth, was circling high above the valley of the windmills, as Sancho Panza dug the grave of his beloved canine friend Benjamin.
In between two oaken trees and overseeing the running waters of El Nino' and near Maria's abode, Sancho erected a little plaque of oakwood:

"Here, rests my friend Benjamin, who in joys and sorrows shared my life".

Sancho signed the ornament with his name and stood next to the final resting place of his loyal companion for what, yes 16 years, when he had picked up a little wayward and stray dog from the
streets. He had then named the scruffy looking terrier cross as Benjamin; the younger brother of Joseph.
Joseph had been Sancho's dog as a young man, just after school; when Sancho had had this dream of making it in the world.

Yeah, starting his own business, trading and dealing in works of art, antiques maybe or inventions.
Since he had been a young lad; he had liked inventions; he had taken apart old clocks and mechanical contraptions to find out how they worked.

But as things go; Sancho's parents had been poor, working a small farm, which they had proudly called: "Panza Estate".
A meagre crop of vegetables; potatoes a la' Toledo and a harvest of Panza carrots had just been enough to sell and trade a little surplus at the markets and to prepare for the next season of planting the seeds.

Sancho had helped his parents and his love of mechanical inventions had taken second place to the necessities of daily living.
Then Sancho's parents had died and being a single man; Sancho had left Panza Estate to work as a free lancer; to find his fortune away from the routines of the farm. His brother Miguel Panza and his wife Ramona had taken over the farm. Miguel was the firstborn of the only two sons of his parents Alfredo Panza and his wife Chiquita.

Travelling southwards and working here and there on scattered farms, requiring seasonal harvesters; Sancho had finally settled near the foot of mount Banuelo, where an abundance of olive groves provided Sancho with a meagre income as a fruit picker.
He knew about the fruits of the olive tree.
The fresh and ripe ones used to make olive oil and culinary olives, picked when unripe and used for pickling.

So what, the inventor had become an expert on olives.

And near mount Banuelo was Don Quixote's villa; impoverished now, but, once a main inland centre for the trade between the Espaniolean trading ports; Valencia to the west; Lisbon to the east; Madrid to the north and Malaga to the south. And then connections to Barcelona, Saragossa, Bilbao, Porto and Seville.
But alternative routes between the main centres had become established and the predominance of the Quixotean freehold, centred on olive oil, had more and more diminished.

Now there were enough regional centres for the production of olive oil, that the Quixotean trade was just enough for the local markets and no more.

But it was enough to allow Don Quixote, the last firstborn Quixote and without an heir for lack of a Senora Quixote; to live a life of study and philosophy.
It also allowed Sancho to live free of charge in a small cottage near Don's villa. They had become friends, when after being a hireling in the olive groves, Sancho was able to help Don free Rosinante from a mishap. As a sprightly young filly; Rosinante had fallen in a ditch and Don had asked the grove workers for help, an idea to get his horse out of the pitch.

He, Sancho Panza had stepped forward and suggested a combination of ropes and pulleys to heave Rosinante out of her dilemma and using the nearby birch trees as anchors.
From that incidence, Sancho and Don had become best friends, like brothers.

Sancho Panza stood next to the grave of Benjamin Panza and could hold back the next avalanche of tears no longer.
All this reminiscing about his past had only temporarily clouded his realisation about the demise of his one and only.
Don Quixote had respected his wish to be left alone with Benji and to allow Sacho his intimate privacy in grief.

Pan's Sentinel​

Don and Maria were inside the cabin, preparing dinner or talking or whatever.
Sancho didn't care. He had no appetite. He just wished Benji back to life.
If he just had stayed back home. To look after the olive groves during Don's absence. But there was nothing to look after at the moment.
The olive harvest had ended a couple of weeks earlier.

It was olive siesta time.
lt was getting dark; the Espaniolean nights came quick at that time of the year.

"It's all 'Don's fault!", thought Sancho Panza.

Don and his invisible devils. Nobody else can see those devils.
All well and good to try to change the world for the better. But he, Sancho Panza lost his lifelong canine best friend, companion through thick and thin they had been. Pals for ever; who needs those crazy women which all seem to have strange minds of showing off themselves and their husbands.

This has gone too far. Devils or no devils; the joke had ended right here and there. This was getting too personal for his own liking.
He was a free man after all.

No he, Sancho Panza had to draw the line; had to get away from all of this.
A man has to do what a man has to do.
So he might lose Don as a friend by abandoning him; it had been Don's idea, this nonsense of the windmill devils.
Yeah, his mind was made up. He would saddle Jose' and hit the roads again. Like before he came to mount Banuelo and the olive groves. Where to go?
Southwest maybe, towards Lisbon perhaps.

He could work in the harbour of Lisbon for a while. To see what that was like; loading and unloading cargo ships.

Maybe to sail on one or the ships to some faraway place; to get over Benji.
There might be some lonely lady waiting in Lisbon, just for a man like him; reliable, steady and a budding inventor on top of that. He didn't have to look after his lame dog anymore; but he still had Jose' to take care of.
But so what; there would be other donkeys in Lisbon and donkeys too, could travel on big ships, could they not?"

"Hey Sancho! Maria has cooked up a special wake feast for Benjamin.
Sevillan casserole with red port from Malaga", the sympathetic voice of Don Quixote interrupted Sancho' s train of thoughts.

"Ah Don; I'm just not hungry. I prefer to spend the night here at the grave site. I'll mourn my personal wake here, wrapped in a woolen blanket maybe.
But you two go ahead; just pretend that I am there too", replied ,Sancho reprehensively.

"As you wish my good friend. We do know how much you love Benjamin", said Don. "I'll get your woolen blanket from Jose'''.

Having fetched the blanket from Jose's saddle; Don Quixote returned to Maria to celebrate the loving memory of Benjamin Panza in welcoming him in the land of the fantasy people.
Night had fallen, as Sancho Panza kissed the plaque of Benji and the soil covering his physical remains. Then Sancho went to Jose', who rested nearby next to an oaktree mounted him and rode away into the night, southwestwards along El Nino'.
This would lead him to the coast before noon and then on northbound towards Lisbon along the ocean, somehow.

Sancho passed Julius Cäsar, still standing at the same spot, where Julius had dispatched Cleopatra to kill Belial, the soul-squeezer.

"Well Don; you just have to kill the other devils without me.
I have to get away from here. Too many memories of Benjamin."

Sancho cried again, as the painful memories of the times of Sancho and Benjamin flashed around in his mind.

The moon was shining brightly in the reflection of the sunshine, bathing the other planetary hemisphere, as Sancho and Jose' reached the outlet of the valley of the windmills.
A great plateau, forming the plains all the way to the cape of Gibraltar stretched out before the nocturnal travellers.

" Ha, northwest from here lays Lisbon; so we might as well head there right now", Sancho explained to Jose'.

A short while later, heading northwest, Sancho felt the sleepiness creeping up on him.

"I must keep going until daybreak at least. I want some distance between the valley and us Jose'. I just hope that Don is not trying to catch us, when he finds out that we are missing", Sancho talked with a loud voice to keep awake, mentally alert.

"You can do that, but you could also go back and have a good night's sleep in the bed, which Maria has lovingly prepared for you Sancho! "
Sancho Panza jerked aboard Jose'.

"Who said that? Where was this voice coming from?", Sancho thought.

"I am you Sancho. The part of you which is watching over you from a more expansive vantage point you might say. I am your own imagination Sancho. I am the ideas about inventions in you. The ideas of how to get Rosinante out of the pitch and the ideas of how to build a catapult. I am your very own genius Sancho; and I am linked to all your memories and all your many experiences all your life."

"But why didn't you ever talk to me before like this, if you are me?", asked Sancho.

"Because you have opened the door in to your higher awareness Sancho.
Your love for Benji and your painful suffering over his death have caused this Sancho.
Love and pain and desire are very closely associated you know; very strong emotions indeed; the most powerful of all the emotions actually.
In a way you have lost the ordinary consciousness of survival issues, the reaction to external stimuli in terms of food and gratification of the senses.

Intense emotional anguish caused you to go within. You allowed your emotions a free play and acted on impulse to love's pain. That's why you are heading towards Lisbon.
It's kind of irrational, you have lost your head of survival logic, but found the door to your higher awareness, me, your genius".

"What is your name? Are you like Cavalier Servante'?"

"Indeed. You can either create a name for me or call me? Hmm, yes you just gave me a name: Le Musketeer; Pasqualina's hero of the Renaissance. "

"So what are you going to do now Sancho? You can continue towards a new adventure in Lisbon; meeting new challenges or you can help Don as friend and fulfil your quest to gain Pasqualina's hand in marriage. Whatever you decide, you have become conscious of me and I am here to serve you as your own genius."

"So you are my imagination; my own door into the invisible world!?
Does this mean I can see the devils like Don?", asked Sancho.

"That depends on your feelings. As soon as you have an emotional response, your imagination can spring into action and paint or construct any picture you can create in your mind."

"My good lord. I just thought I'd seen Benjamin running around here besides us, like in his younger days. Have I seen his ghost or something?'

"There is no death Sancho; only the changing of the forms for the life to live in. If your imagination is strong enough, then Benji will be by your side forever, as long as you wish him to be"!

"Wow, I'm going back with Benjamin to have a good sleep in Maria' s cabin', said Sancho as he turned Jose' around to ride back to Oakwood East.




CHAPTER SIX: ARMAGEDDON IN THE VALLEY OF THE WINDMILLS

Don Quixote and Maria Infinity were sitting around the dining table, deeply engaged in philosophical discussions, as the tired Sancho stepped into the cabin of the renowned herbalist and natural healer.

Don looked up: "Glad to see you Sancho. Are you getting hungry?
There's plenty of casserole left; but after such a stressful day you might just like some sleep?"

"I feel Sancho has experienced what is commonly known as 'the dark night of the soul'; what losing a beloved and moving through all the associated turmoils of the feelings", nodded Maria.

Sancho Panza sat down and digged into the casserole a la Seville, which Don was dishing out for him.
"I've got something to tell you. I was in turmoil alright.
I tried to run away; but then I met myself as Le Musketeer and Benji is back too; well in a way", Sancho told his story of despair and salvation.

"I thought it quite a possibility for you to short circuit, Sancho", said Don compassionately.

"Well, I have known you for a long time now, what going on 12 years.
I'm your best friend. When Toby died in my arms, I wept all night.
I wanted to escape to another planet, run away too. And you search for something, someone, some circumstance to put the blame onto.
It never works.

You isolate yourself emotionally and then you slowly crawl back into your physical life experience.
But I understand, we understood you and talked about a way to ease your suffering; but there is no way, but your own inner strength, best gathered in your own self-isolation."

"Pain turns in to love, just as love in a physical body often becomes very painful until a mental rebirth of perception can occur.
This is what happened to you Sancho.
You discovered your own loving nature within all of your pain and that allowed you to transcend the dependence on the bodily form and in a very real way resurrect your beloved Benjamin in nonphysical form. But he is all there you know.
All Benji's feelings and devotion to you and all his love of course, now closely linked to your imaginative power of being aware of his energy.
You are, your love is, creating Benjamin anew out of your own memories!", explained Maria.

"Well I feel so much better now. You two are not upset with me and I'm ready for those devils now Don. I shall train Benjamin to attack them through my imaginative genius of Le Musketeer. Benji is young and strong now, a real terrier to dig out the hellish rats."

Sancho sipped on the carafe of Malagian port, Maria had placed before him.

"It's after midnight my dear friends", said Maria. "Are you two going to retire for the night or discuss the next battle plan?"

"Maria has given me more information about the strategic positions of the other seven windmill devils we have to face before confronting Fatherlie.
I've drawn up a map, Sancho. So we can attack the windmill of Alfonso Ramirez a little to the north from here early in the morning. As you recall Alfonso is away, so Julius Caesar and Cleopatra should have free play. Further north still is the windmill of Roberto Mitana and his wife Eliza; they are busy at the moment grinding rye and corn.
Northwest about midway between those two windmills is the Feliciano windmill and operating at medium capacity under the management of Hugo and Carlotta Feliciano.

So we could have a good sleep and rest for maybe having a go at those three enemies, should time and circumstance allow. What do you think of this Sancho?"

"Yes Don, I agree. First we take on the absent minded devil; then on to Feliciano's windmill and if we can avoid too much razzamattaz from the operating people, we should try the far northern one as well", replied Sancho Panza.

"I hope for a message from Cavalier Servante' though; I have no idea even what the names of those devils are as ye", added Don Quixote .
"Well maybe Le Musketeer can help in that too", replied Sancho, brimming with confidence.

Maria showed her gallant knignts their beds for the remainder of the night and retired herself, meditating upon the haunting melody of Maria Infinity the Nightingale, and guardian of the mindful plasma.
Another sunny morning greeted the valley of the windmills.

"lt is going to be a decsive battle today. Three masterdevils are to face their maker in the valley of decision today!", said Don Quixote, placing his drawn map in front of Sancho Panza over Maria's breakfast of buttered honey toast, Lisbon coffee and peppermint tea.

"I have numbered the windmills after the numbers and colours on Cleopatra.
We know that number 1 was Beelzebub Minoris as the black; number 2 was Belial as brown and number 9 is Beelzebub Majoris as purple or magenta. Fatherlie is the number 10 in the upper centre as the white.
The other devil names we can fill in, when we obtain information about them from Cavalier Servante' and Le Musketeer."

Map of Don Quixote​

"There is one other thing I need to tell you!", interjected Maria.

"Last night Infinity, the Nightingale conveyed to me a message about a special elixir I am able to concoct. It is a balsam of extraordinary healing qualities; to combine the natural fragrances of four aromas with four crystalline mineral essences.
I require tour flowers to distill their individuated essences and then use liquid crystalline solidification to derive the ingredients for the paste of this elixir; called: 'Alabaster of Vitruvius'.

I do not know the identies or the location or those four flowers; but Infinity told me that they associate to the four princesses of the floriadic kingdom here; just like the elements are patronised by the four princes of the air I have already told you about.
Now there are four crystal numbers, one for every princess: 4, 12, 20 and 8.

I know that my sacred acorns, as the fifth ingredient for the magic mixture to produce the 'Philosopher's Stone' as the 'Alabaster of Vitruvius' merges the crystalline cubic structural form to the floral secret essence of the number 6.

Flower Chakras​

The names of the princesses, here in this world are all I know.
Leonie-Anne for the number 4 and Sharon-Mary for the number 12 and Dorothy-June for the number 20 and Pauline-Ann for the number 8.
So my dear Don and Sancho, I, we would be most grateful if you could maybe collect those four flowers for me. They are definitely associated with the reawakening of the angels, taking over the vacant places of the defeated devils.

After the battle with Belial; did any of you see one of the elemental princes flying about?"

Don shook his head: "I didn't notice any birds of prey"!

"Come to think of it, an eagle was circling over the valley, as I buried Benjamin," nodded Sancho.

"Ah, so the elemental Earth has found it' s angel and Tony Solomon has already told the worlds about your victory," smiled Maria.

And so Don and Sancho prepared for battle.
It was Jose's turn to pull Julius Cäsar from war-point number 2 to warpoint number 3, the windmill of the absent Ramirez's.
Becoming more proficient in the loading of Julius with Cleopatra; Don Quixote and Sancho Panza prepared the setup of the tensile force to project the magic lance in to the windmill devil housing itself in Alfonso's windmill.
The landscape was deserted, no people anywhere.

"I just can't get any name from Cavalier Servante' for this devil", said Don. "Maybe we have to find this out first, before killing the fiend?"

"Hang on Don; I'll try to concentrate on Le Musketeer", replied Sancho.

Sancho Panza then closed his eyes and tried to empty his mind.

"Well, did you get anything?", asked Don impatiently after a period of maybe 5 minutes.

"Nothing Don! Maybe it is only Cavalier Servante', who knows the hellish names!"

"Hmm, this is interesting Sancho. I just feel nothing at all. Why? It could be, that...Yeah, we are to use our imagination Sancho and not rely on some strong intuitive feeling too much. Any name come into your mind? From nowhere, seemingly? Just make one up, if you like Sancho!"

"I can see something Don. In my mind, a sort of confusion, disorder and a name: Nebiros! "

"Die, Nebiros; you Confusion-Sower out of the brimstone pit!", shouted Don, as he slashed the binding rope with his Quixotean Stiletto. Nebiros, the third antiprincipality died instantly, as Cleopatra pierced him between the eyebrows, shattering her red tip, which had momentarily halted the main supply shaft of Alfonso Ramirez's windmill.

"Congratulations, noble fellow knight! ", said Don, grinning at Sancho.

Stepping forwards to retrieve Cleopatra, Don' s eye was caught by a four-leaved Clover flower, stretching upwards in the sunshine, as to ask Don to pick her up.

"Sancho, I've found Leonie-Anne!", laughed Don.

"Leonie-Anne, the four-leaved Clover is the symbol, that the angel of order has replaced the demon of chaos on the spiritual level Sancho", explained Don Quixote.

"But have you noticed Sancho, something strange?
There are no people around at all. Sure Alfonso and his family are away, but there should at least be some workers or travellers around."

"Something might be going on in the main meetingplace, the market or the inn ," replied Sancho.

"But whatever it is we could try to take advantage of it.
Confronting and shooting at the windmills without witnesses is easy. So let's speed this thing up; we might have enough troubles with the onlookers later on", Sancho Panza became more and more accustomed to the role of leader and initiator and Pasqualina's hero of course.

And so Rosinante pulled Julius Cäsar from war-point number 3 to the windmill of Hugo Feliciano. There were no personages, but half-filled crates of bundles of wheat indicated that for some reason; the normal work routine had become interrupted.

"This devil here is the fourth antiprincipality of distortion, to be conquered by the angel of symmetry.
Meet your doom Moloch, you sulphur- spewing Heart-Breaker from the fiery bottomless pit", labelled Don; as Cleopatra shortened herself yet once again by transforming her fourth cat-live of the orange segment in to an all consuming holy flame, which incinerated Moloch.

"Phew, now on to the windmill of the Mitanas , the Rye- and Corn millers.

Will, by providence, war-point number 5 also be devoid of possible interference in the form of know-better rationalists?", Don Quixote questioned himself, as Douglas, the Golden Raven paraded himself to the knights, taking a ride upon Julius Cäsar, pulled strongly, but slowly by Jose'.

Unstacked sacks of rye and trays, partially filled with corn, became the only witnesses to the demise of Baalim, the fifth antilaw, the Self-limiter.
Cleopatra's wrath manifested the curse of the yellow fever, boiling Baalim into the obliteration of sulphuric bubblings.

Sancho Panza found a 12-sheeted Rose, near the now 5-pieced magic lance.
And so two flowery princesses returned with the heroes to Maria.

 

CHAPTER SEVEN: BENJAMIN'S DOOMSDAY

"Oh this is so wonderful!", exclaimed a happy Maria.

"You have found Leonie-Anne, the princess of the Passionate Oneness and Sharon-Mary, the Oneness of the Freedom. The floral essence of Leonie-Anne transmutes her four-leaved cloverness into the tetrahedronal crystalline s tructure of the alchemy. The reddis tint in the clover is the aroma, just as the yellow colour of Sharon-Mary, whose chrysalis produces the butterfly of the Dodecahedron as mineral essence of the 12 faces."

"We are pleased to have been able to find those princess flowers for you Maria," replied Don Quixote.

"But some thing strange happened. We had basically no resistance from the devils in the form of minor devils manifesting the thoughtforms of onlookers.
All three windmills were deserted of people, and we could kill their devilish masters one by one, sending them back into their imaginary hells."

"The angels helped you Don and Sancho! I had this feeling that after Fatherlie played his trump card in taking the body of Benjamin; there would come a certain balance out of this apparent sacrifice.
Doug then told me, that Juan Fernandez had called a special meeting in the Windmiller's Inn to celebrate the victory".

Juan Fernandez​

"Who is Juan Fernandez?", asked Sancho. "Is he that important; that all people just drop whatever they are doing, all their works, just to meet him?"

"Yes, you could say that Sancho", answered Maria smilingly.

"You should know, that Juan Fernandez is the toast of this valley. Juan was born and bred here.
Then as a young man, he was discovered to have a great talent in kicking a ball around.
Juan moved to Madrid and joined a football club there: Real Madrid; one of the oldest and most famous football teams in Espaniola.

Anyway, Juan Fernandez scored the winning goal in the recent final, playing against another prestige football team: FC Barcelona, the old rival of Real Madrid.
So Juan became the hero of Madrid for a little while; and having a little holiday after the end of the football season; Juan decided to spend a couple of days in the village of his birth and to meet old friends of his upbringings.
So as soon as the news broke, of Juan's arrival at the Windmiller's Inn; it was like a local holiday. Everyone rushed to meet their sporting hero and to bask a little bit in his reflected glory!"

"Such is the way of the world, Sancho!", added Don.

"But it really helped us in our quest. And being so euphoric about worshipping Juan as a personality cult; might help us even more."

Don Quixote placed the map on the table top, around which the three friends were sitting.

"Our next battle will be against the three devils in the western part of the valley. We need to pull Julius Cäsar across Miller's Bridge South to gain access to windmills numbers 6 and 7", explained Don.

"At the bottom is the windmill of Stefano and Carmen Fenuca; and the windmill next to Lake Westwind is run by the Batistas, Pedro and Joanna", added Maria.

"Anyway, we then have to move back across the southern bridge and move to the northern Miller's Bridge to get to war-point number 8", said Don, looking at Maria.

"Yes, that's the place of Marco and Francisa Garoza", exposited the herbalistic alchemist.

"Can we do all this today?", asked Sancho Panza.

"I don't know Sancho. There is a bit of travelling involved and now we will run into people. We'll have to pass the Windmiller's Inn and the Market Place to reach the bridges."

"There's another problem Don!", said Sancho. "I've noticed that our Cleopatra is beginning to wobble violently after being hurled by Julius Cäsar.
Maybe another two such manoeuvers, then the lance will just be too short to be catapulted at all. "

"You're right Sancho. Let me think. What would you say if we attack the devil of the Fenucas with Julius, say tonight, when the townsfolk are most likely celebrating in the inn and then move on to the windmill of the Batistas, provided Julius can still be utilised to shoot Cleopatra.
Then we return to our base here to plan alternative strategies without the catapult".

"Just my thoughts too, Don. And I think I know the names of those two devils. I can see Benjamin in my mind standing in front of this monster out of the depths of hell. Benji wants revenge on Mammon, the Life-Stopper; Fatherlie's right hand devil. The colour green is with Mammon; green slimey plastic sheets of papers - greenbacks.

Then above mammon; there is Abaddon, the Mind-Sucker; absorbing the principle of reflection by clouding the skyblue waters, making them murky.
Abaddon is the left hand devil of the Grim Reaper Fatherlie. And Benji wants them both, to tear them apart, for taking his life out of his physical form.
Benjamin is growling and gnarling at the fiends. And they are afraid like hell, from the holy hound of wholeness."

"Great Sancho. You are really merging with Le Musketeer in your imaginations.
Hmm; so the angel of Inversion will destroy the demon of the spiritual inertness, the constancy and the cherubim of the Reflection kicks the devil of Absorption back in to his black hole of the abyss."

"Yes, my knights of the wholey grail, and I know that Alan, the Sagacious Seahawk resides near Lake Westwind as the protector of the waterways.
So you should meet Alan and find one of the missing floral princesses perhaps around there too", proposed Maria.

Don was pleased with himself and the course of the logical events.

"So we are agreed. Tonight we cross Miller's Bridge South and annihilate the Grim Reaper's two sidekicks; to give Benji a tasty feed."

Trippings​

As the twilight began to permeate the airspace in the valley of the windmills; loyal Rosinante was pulling Julius Cäsar from Maria's cabin to war-point number 6.
Don Quixote was leading his faithful mare by the bridle, with Sancho above Jose' carrying Cleopatra.
A tumultuous commotion could be heared in the form of shouts and excited voices, toasting the homecoming of the local hero of the footballing world.
Just as the knightly procession of Don Quixote and Sancho Panza passed the back entrance to the Windmiller' s Inn, two local millers stepped out of the southern doorway of the tavernised hotel.

"Hey Manuel; look at those two characters, pulling this contraption around.
Good evening my friends. Have you come to celebrate with us our famous hero of Bernabeu; the stadium where Juan Fernandez killed off those wanna-be Barcelonians, those Catalonians?
This thing, is it a surprise for Juan?
It's his shout in there. Free ales and wines for everyone. Come in and join us and meet our champion;" asked Edmundo Olmedo, brother-in-law and partner of Manuel Castilla and his sister Isabella.

"Good to see you, Don and Sancho. Are you feeling better now Don?
No more of this devil in the windmills stuff, eh", grinned an intoxicated Manuel, exkeeper and host of Beelzebub Minoris.

"Hi there Manuel and ..?".

"Edmundo Olmedo, Don and number one supporter of Real Madrid, the best football club in all of Espaniola and the entire world too!"

"Yes, we have heared about the great victory, haven't we Sancho.
Juan's masterly executed goal to win the game. What was the score again?", replied Don, raising his voice into a nuance of excitement.

"Real 2 and Barca 1; halftime score 1 to 1; scorers 22nd minute Paolo Senevista for Barca; then penalty to Real, 39th minute, Diego Cortez equalises for Real. 81st minute, Juan Fernandez volleys the ball from a flank of right winger Ronaldo Zica into the net as final score", Edmundo's happiness sparkled in a proud smile from ear to ear.

"Wow, you really know your football", said Sancho, glancing at Don.

"Well my friends, we need to pull this contraption across the southern bridge to engage in another victory celebration of another kind. If we can do that in time, we might join you in the inn later on;" said Don Quixote with a hidden grin.

"Ah, I know what this thing is. It's for fireworks, to shoot colourful lights, crackers, rockets into the air to celebrate our champion," Edmundo ellbowed Manuel, pleased with his detective genius.

"Yes, you are so right", replied Don, putting his index finger before his lips and looking sternly at Edmundo and Manuel.

"But it is going to be a great surprise; a secret you two have now become privvy to.
You can help us by keeping this confidential. The pyrotechnics of this firework must be prepared without disturbances. Will you help us?"

"I've got an idea Don," said Manuel, enjoying the thought of the possibility to participate in a hidden agenda to honour the local hero.

"Edmundo and myself can go back into the inn and keep an eye on things.
Practically the whole town is in there; we are still expecting Maria, the herbalist and the Garozas from across the northern bridge.
Then we can cook up some story of a surprise, to keep everyone away from you, setting up the fireworks. But how do we know, that the surprise is ready?"

"When you hear a big bang or when you see the first coloured light in the sky; then the surprise is ready. Thank you for your help, my friends", Don explained charmfully.

Manuel and Edmundo staggered back into the inn to fulfil their mission.
A short while later, Cleopatra found herself within the tight squeeze of Julius Cäsar and after a slashing execution by the bladed hangman, the shortened magic lance vibrated violently through the air and hit her target of Mammon's neck, strangling him instantly by releasing the curse of the Egyptian mummy - the slimegreen embalming bandages.

"Don did you see how grossly Cleopatra oscillated? We were lucky to have hit this master devil! "

"There's no such thing as luck, Sancho. Only action and providence.
But yes, after the next shot, Julius can retire. But we have the townspeople in suspense now.
So we still can use Julius to camouflage our real agendas."

"That was brilliant Don; the way you used Edmundo's and Manuel's own selfconditioned frame of mind to help us inadvertingly".

"Yes Sancho, enthusiastic pride in the search of selfimportance can be used to great effect by the higher awareness. In the end everyone will learn the required lessons and all benefit by the experiences."

Don picked up the four-tiered Cleopatra, and searching the ground around the deserted windmill; he found a 20-petalled Lotus flower, near a tiny pond of drinking water.
Dorothy-June was infused with a skyblue tint.

"I have found one of the princesses, the 20-numbered one.
So let's give our old Julius his last shot at glory. Did you see Benjamin?"

"Oh yes, Benji is still licking his chops. After Cleopatra strangled the life-stopper, our greyhound ate him up, bit by bit."

Sancho switched Jose' and Rosinante and with the eager Benjamin leading the attack; war-point number 6 became war-point number 7.

Benji, the heavenly greyhound charged at Abaddon, the mind-sucker.
Both Don and Sancho saw Abaddon cower from the leaping canine, just avoiding him, as Benji passed right through the windmill's blades and Pedro Batista's mill.

The crossed blades, which once had forced him out of his fragile and crippled body, could hurt him no longer.
Cleopatra got ready, released her menstrual tension - and missed; the wobbling imbalance was too extensive.
But the second attempt caused the master devil to gnash his teeth in a final futile effort to avoid being atomised in an azurish detonation of Cleopatra's mushroom-clouded-bomb.

Alan, the sagacious Seahawk was resting on a nearby branch of an apple tree, as the wholey temple knights with Dorothy-June left Julius Cäsar near the southern bridge to ride back to Oakwood East.



CHAPTER EIGHT: SOPHIA'S AGONY

It was breakfast time, as Donato Quixote and Sancho Panza gathered around Maria's oaken table to discuss the cause of events.

"Ah, I did sleep well Sancho. Seven master devils are now dead, relative to the higher dimensional perception.
The seven holy angels of the love principalities have taken the place of the seven unholy demons of the antiprinciples.
Now peace between heaven and earth can be achieved by defeating the three remaining super principalities, the wickedness in high places.

The eight's devil' s name is Asmodeus, the Grim Reaper of the Relativity principle.
Either perceive a linear beginning and end like birth and death; or close the circle as a cyclic self-repeating continuum of life without end.

"Yes Don, I sort of understand this. Merging with Le Musketeer has allowed me to sense something like a natural law in everything.
People are individually very unique and different; yet they have a kind of identical character of the loving way or something like that.

And yes, I used my genius to come up with an idea about Cleopatra, Don".
"I knew you would think of something. To avoid our Rosinante having to charge at the windmills, like we did at Beelzebub Minoris."

"Don; if I could find a counterweight for the bronzen handle; then we can use Cleopatra as a spear for the next attack.
After that a two-pierced spear can be used as a sword without the balancing weight and then a one-pieced dagger can finish off Fatherlie.
How, I do not know however."

"Sounds excellent to me Sancho. We'll take it a devil at the time.
Cavalier Sevante', my imaginative genius will help us when the going gets rough."

"I need a cylindrical hollow rock, maybe a torus or doughnut shape would serve nicely, suggested Sancho.

"Ah maybe I can help here", interjected Maria, which had joined the adventurers at breakfast of homemade marmalade, Lisbon coffee and lemon tea with acorn essence.

"A while ago, the four princes of the sky congregated upon the branches of Abraxas, the ancient oak tree and conversed with Infinity about some old curse of the shattered rocks.

Tony Solomon, patron of the earthen element had brought an obsidian, glassy volcanic obelisk along and had asked Alan, Doug and Harry to mix their elemental energies into it. Then Infinity would one day be able to use the mixture of the elements in a harmonious balance to lift the old curse and bring the splitted pieces back together.

I didn't know what it was all about then; but Doug the Golden Raven one day brought a lead ore along, containing some gold; just a rock with yellow lustre really. But that's why we call him the Golden Raven; you have seen him, he's as black as the darkest night. But he knows the golden things, the Aurum.

Not to be outdone, Alan the Sagacious Seahawk later came with another red rocky substance, called Cinnabar, with hydrargyrum, quicksilver in it.
Then Harry added a greyish rocky ore called zinc blende with, what's the name; yes Thallium to the Galena ore of the gold.

Then Infinity proclaimed to be able to transmute the elements in a sequence: 79-80-81-82-83 in using Tony Solomon's volcanic rock, because that obelisk had bismuthinite in it, giving it a pinkish tinge and changing things from being stable to being volatile, radioactive he called it.

Anyway under Infinity's directions, I put all the ores together under heat and the quicksilver became like a bath for the other elemental substances; the Aurum, the Plumbum, the Thallium and the Bismuth immersed in the Mercury of Hydrargyrum. Well I am an alchemist after all.

At the end, this strange looking ringshaped rock crystallised and Infinity said, that one day; after having been named, this rock would possess magical qualities.
Wait and I shall get it my friends."

As Maria returned with the ringshaped rock, looking smooth and sparkling in a deepish blue colour; Sancho Panza jerked a little under the induction of Le Musketeer.

"Yes, I know that rock's name. It is Mark Anthony; lover of queen Cleopatra and taking the place of old Julius Cäsar.
Mark Anthony fits around Cleopatra like a wedding ring around the ring finger of one's beloved."

"Very good. It's settled then. Mark Anthony is quite heavy and I'm glad his magic destiny can now be fulfilled," said Maria, the alchemist.

"Well then let' s get going to fight Asmodeus. I shall throw the loving embrace and passionate desires between Cleopatra and Mark Anthony at the fiend and end his relative power of evil over the wisdom of the good," exclaimed Don excitedly.

"One thing my friends, though", said Maria.
"When you return, I might not be here. I need to visit Windby Woods with the three flower essences you have found: Leone-Anne, Sharon-Mary and Dorothy-June. Please consider my cabin your home during my absence."

"Maria, you seem so sad about it. What's the matter?", asked a concerned Sancho Panza.

"Oh; it's the passions of an alchemist, having to undergo a purification ritual to harmonise the elements. Don't let it bother you at the moment. You have Asmodeus to worry about. I can look after myself.
I've got many friends in the forest. I'll 'tell you about it, when we meet again."

Woman​

Don Quixote saddled Rosinante and Jose' as Sancho fitted Mark Anthony around the blue segment of the magic lance in a perfect fit.

Just as the knights of the loving way turned the corner to head towards Miller's Bridge North past the Windmiller's Inn; Maria Infinity packed a small woolen pouch with the three princesses and began her journey southbound, towards a shallow passage across El Nino', only she knew about.

Tears were streaming down Maria's wrinkled cheeks, as she reached the geyser of the willow tree at the southernmost end of Windby Woods.
Maria Infinity, the nightingale was sitting on a branch of Abraham, the willow tree, as Maria took off all her clothes to bathe in Sarah, the hot geyser of gushing waters and as Wisdom's burning pain awaited it's hermetic deliverance.

Nude​

The Windmiller's Inn was deserted.
A long night of merry celebrations was followed by a morning of hang-overs and dehydrated blood streams. Without much ado; Don and Sancho reached Miller's Bridge North and were just approaching war-point number 8, just north of Lake Westwind.
Across Lake Westwind, Edmundo and Manuel Castilla had stopped their inspection of Julius Cäsar and had begun to wave their arms at the visitors from the north.

"Look over there, Don. Edmundo Olmedo and Manuel Castilla are with Julius and they have seen us."

"Yes Sancho! I feel they will soon come here to ask us about the missing fireworks from last night. I shall do what we came to do, before any further explanations become necessary."

Mounted upon Rosinante, Don Quixote balanced queen Cleopatra in his right hand by adjusting Cleopatra's bronzen handle with the weight of Mark Anthony's masculinity; Don took aim and threw the magic couple at the windmill devil of the relativity.

"Go to hell, Asmodeus, grim reaper of an unnecessary physical death!"

Straight as an arrow, the provisionary spear flew towards the windmill of Marco and Francisca Garoza; piercing one of the blades on its downwards path.
The normally applied impulsive force, produced a shock to the angular supply system and just for a moment stopped the rotation of the main shaft, distributing the windmill-cross for the four blades.

Reduced to the last two pieces, Cleopatra escaped Mark Anthony's erotic advances by flinging through the air and landing at the foot of Isaac, the coniferous cedar tree.

Harry, the Wise Falcon was looking on, resting upon one of the higher branches of the needled tree.
Mark Anthony shattered on impact with the windmill's blade; but the blue part of Cleopatra's sensual charms fractured with him,reuniting the lovers within an aquamarine transformation of pure virtual-imaginary energy.
Asmodeus drowned in the gigantic deepblue tidal wave, which became the effect of the metamorphosis of relative perceptive awareness of the 12th.

Manuel and Edmundo had finally caught up with the devil fighters.

"Hi, where have you two been last night. We were waiting for the signals, the coloured lights and the big bang.
And you didn't come back in to the inn either to celebrate Juan Fernandez with all the free grog?", asked Edmundo, catching his breath.

"Well, Edmundo. The reason for that is that our equipment broke down.
So we couldn't set off the fireworks; we did what we could, but then the coloured lights became defunct and we are trying to find some alternative way to celebrate the victory", replied a serious looking Don, contemplating Edmundo.

"Juan has left early this morning. Back to training camp in Madrid.
So you've missed the boat to meet him and to get an autograph maybe," said Manuel, looking at Cleopatra, which Don had picked up underneath Isaac, the cedar tree.

"Are you still attacking those windmills Don?"

"How many windmills are in this valley?", countered Don Quixote.

"Ten all up".

"Did you see me attacking any windmills Manuel?"

"No, but many of the folks here saw you attack mine."

"Hmm; to tell you the truth Manuel. We are only interested in two other windmills now. The one over there, right to the entrance into this valley and the big one up there in the centre", Don pointed to the northeast.

"Lesice Gonzales and his wife Sylvia have no devils in their windmill either.
Neither does the mayor's central mill.
Benito Diablos and his mayoress Cynthia will not allow you to interfere with their trade.
I've heared him say yesterday in the inn; that should you go anywhere near his windmill; he'll have you arrested for trespassing his property.
Actually, he wants you out of this valley. He would have told you so, if you would have visited the inn."

Edmundo Olmedo approached Sancho Panza.

"You know Sancho, I thought I saw Don chucking a spear at the windmill of the Garozas. Did he do it? And if so, why did he do it?"

Sancho smiled, thinking for a moment and replied: "Yes, if you saw Don throw a spear, did you also see a black- and white dog chase after the spear as though it were a stick?"

"Come to think of it; I think I saw something black- and white move around this place", answered Edmundo.

"Where is the dog now Edmundo?"

"I can't see any dog; but that wooden sword, which Don is holding, could have been the spear."

"And you did have a black- and white dog with you, when you attacked my windmill", added Manuel Castilla.

"The dog and the spear so somehow belong together, do they not?", asked Don Quixote, looking at Edmundo.

"I am getting confused. Guess it's not important anyway.
Manuel, I'm getting tired, ready for morning siesta. It's been a long thirsty night."

Manuel nodded and said yawningly: "Yes Edmundo, dogs or no dogs; let' s have some shut eye. We've been up all night. Sleeping dogs do lay!
But I'd advise you to leave the windmills of Lesice and Benito well alone, if you wish to stay out of trouble. Good night, . . eh good morning Don and Sancho!"

Manuel and Edmundo walked tiredly towards the northern bridge to get home to their windmill.

"We got out of this one alright Don; but what do you think about the warnings?
The lord mayor doesn't seem to like us, even though he's never actually met us."

"I'm not surprised Sancho. The lord mayor's prestige and social pride forms the minor manifesto of Fatherlie, the chief of the windmill devils."

Don Quixote glanced at the double-pieced Cleopatra.

"My dear queen; I shall have to ask you to become the lady of Lake Westwind and convey onto me the swordsmanship of king Arthur's magic sorcery.
In the name of Cavalier Servate', I shall name you Merlin's Excalibur for the next battle against the Id of the Antiego, the superprinciple of holographic quantisation!"

Then the holy grailers returned to Maria's cabin at Oakwood East.

 

CHAPTER NINE: THE DOOR OPENS

The cabin of Maria was as she had left it; Don and Sancho found the place orderly, but deserted, with no signs or any wildlife.
No birds were flying about or chirping; even the multitude of squirrels normally scouting about for acorns was nowhere to be seen.
Donato Quixote and Sancho Panza entered the chalet which had become their home away from home and after comforting Rosinante and Jose'.

"Gee, I hope Maria returns soon from Windby Woods. I do not like to abuse her generous hospitali ty;" said Don.

"Yeah; but I am hungry. I'm sure she doesn' t mind if we get a little something to eat out of her larder", replied Sancho, proceeding towards the kitchen area.

After a short while, Sancho came back with grained bread, natural butter, cheese from the eastern continent and some fresh water.

"There is a concealed door behind the larder, leading into some kind of cellar, Don.
A few steps into a cavern, with catacombs along the walls.
I only had a peek to see if Maria would be there, but the cavern is empty."

"Hmm, Sancho I feel that our friend is up to some major work to do with her alchemy. Remember, she requires one more floral princess to concoct this special elixir, this Philosopher's Stone and the Vitruvian Alabaster.
I think we should try to get this missing ingredient for her. I'm sure she'll be back at the time we found it for her.
Tt's just before noon time. Let's have a little rest and then head north along the eastern border of the valley to get to war-point number 9 and Beelzebub Majoris, the master devil of the quantisation of the one being in the nothing and in the hologram for the everything."

"I agree Don. Hopefully we find that 8-sided princess around there.
What was her name again?"

"Pauline-Ann, and we should look for a purplish, lilac or magenta colouring, going by the information, Sancho."

And so after a short siesta, the warriors of the rosy cross set off to confront Beelzebub Majoris under the disguise of the windmill of Lesice and Sylvia Gonzales.

Don Quixote had modified the leather gourd used to project Cleopatra from Julius Caesar to serve as scabbard, a sheath for his magical sword Excalibur, attached to his belt.
The secret weapon of the Lady of the Lake Westwind was dangling down the left leg of Don Quixote, as the two riders approached war-point number 9.

Ordinary day-to-day activities had resumed in the valley of the windmills.
The euphoric excitement about the visit of the local hero Juan, now residing in Madrid, had evaporated and become replaced by the normalities of events as perceived by a milling community.
Passing the windmill of Roberto and Eliza Mitana only glances of vanishing interest
had greeted the knights .

Milling rye and corn is a time consuming occupation, requiring concentrated attention with little time to engage in idleness of mind or work. Only an extraordinary occurrence, enabling one's generally boring and repetitive life style to experience a kind of uplifting could change the modus operandi of one's being alive.
Like reflecting in another's glory; identification with someone, something more successful, richer, better than one's own perceived selfimposed limitations .

That could change one's lethargy - like Juan Fernandez, the local hero; who had made it good and had become successful, rich and famous.

But now Juan had left again; and the normality of one's life had reassumed it's well established priority.

And so the general apathy of the uneventfulness in the valley of the windmills had prevailed again and Don and Sancho's presence bordered almost on the superfluous.

Well, almost was the imperative word.
Reaching war-point number 9; Lesice and Sylvia Gonzales were standing next to their windmiller's cabin, as though they were waiting for the would-be unsung heroes.

"What do you want? Get away from here; Manuel has told me all about you mad hatters. That you might show up here to disturb the peace", shouted Lesice Gonzales, as Don and Sancho came nearer.

"We do not need the likes of you around here. Go back up north, to the place of the crazies, where you came from!", supported Sylvia.

Sylvia​

"No devils are in here, our windmills. If you touch my windmill, I shall tell Benito, our mayor. He'll have you arrested and thrown into prison," continued the raging Lesice.

Good day, my dear folks", replied Don Quixote, bringing Rosinante to a halt just near war-point number 9.

"We have no intention to harm or damage your windmill my dear sir, ma'am!
I am Donato Quixote from mount Banuelo and this is my best friend Sancho Panza, one of the famous musketeers of the court of the King of France. We humbly apologize for any misinformation and rumours about us, which you might have received.

We are here for reasons of expediency; to bring honour and glory to this valley to be precise. May I explain our visit to you two, the honoured proprietors of this magnificent windmill; truly a work of art; a monument to the architectural brilliance a la' renaissance?"

Lesice Gonzales looked at Don and then at Sancho and replied in a baffled voice: "Ah, hmm, yes you two do look like you might be from the continent. And you surely talk like educated gentlemen and not some madmen, which we thought you were. So go ahead and tell us, what you really wish to do here", Lesice glanced at the nodding Sylvia.

Don grinned at Sancho, sitting aboard Jose' next to him and went on:

" Sancho Panza here, is a famous swordsman after the emblem of Alexandre' Dumas; the supreme academy of swordsmanship. I am his lanista, his trainer or fencing master. We are here to test a new form of sword manoeuver.
Do you know about the epee, the scimitar, the sabre ,the rapier, the claymore, the cutlass, the foil, the hanger, brand or the falchion?"

Lesice Gonzales stood there with an open mouth: "No Don, I know nothing about those things, but you seem tp be an expert on it."

"Yes, we are here to test a new kind of rapier, a slender thrusting sword, used for pointing combat," Don took Cleopatra out of her scabbard and pointed it right at Lesice's chest.
Lesice jumped backwards.

"But what have the windmills to do with this testing the sword?"

"We have heared about the excellent way the windmills have been constructed here, Lesice.
So the king of France has commissioned us to select a windmill in this part of Espaniola to test the timing efficiency of the modernised rapier, named Excalibur.
You see, the magnificent technical construction of the windmills here allows a lanista like myself to calibrate the timing of the rotation of the windmill blades with the thrusting movements of the sword.
Do you wish me to explain the mathematics of the physical kinematics involved in some detail: angular velocity, centripetal forces and the momenta of inertia as point-particular mass distributions as acted upon by a system-external linear impulsive force?"

"Ah, no, this is not necessary Don. We do believe you, don't we Sylvia", Lesice looked at his wife with a little hidden terror.

"Of course, my dear", replied Sylvia Gonzales supportingly and reassuredly.

Sancho Panza smiled at Sylvia and said: " And my fencing master has selected your windmill as best suited to gain the honour of becoming the testing material for the King of France. Isn't that marvellous to say the least?"

"Yes, Sir Sancho. We feel dignified indeed; the King of France? But will you excuse me; I shall prepare some refreshments. Do you like Cadizian Ales or red port from Malaga?"

"We follow the master of this windmill in his taste; your dear husband Lesice, don't we Sancho?", laughed Don Quixote, giving Lesice a friendly smile.

"The best bottle of port; the one we have put away for special occasions my love", said a happy and well pleased Lesice Gonzales.

"My good lord; wait until Cynthia, the mayoress hears of this. Our mill being chosen ahead of hers. Who knows in the next mayoral election, Lesice might stand for mayor and I can become the new mayoress of windmill valley", thought Sylvia, as she hurried away into her chalet.

"It will be short and swift, the manoeuver of Excalibur", explained Don, after a general toasting to the honours of the land of Espaniola, the King of France and the Gonzales windmill in windmill valley had been formally completed.

"I shall end the revelry of Excalibur with a swooping movement to execute the 'coup' de grace' to the overall manoeuver!", detailed Don.

"After you have calculated the exact timing sequence of releasing the new rapier", added Sancho, displaying a serious facial disposition.

"Of course, my knighted musketeer", laughed Don benevolently.

The demise of Beelzebub Majoris was his rape to the death by Excalibur.
As cunning as the master devil, second in command only to Fatherlie himself had been all his deceptive devilish life, so was the Id of the Antiego outsmarted and outwitted by the superior mindfulness of the 12th.
Don Quixote had positioned himself to duel Fatherlie's deputy in the form of one of the windmill blades reaching nadir, it's lowest point in the circular movement.

Then the 'coup' de grace', right into the middle of the blade.
A quick reflex of Don Quixote's biceps muscle had prevented his right arm to become twisted along the movement of the windmill cross, which nevertheless had ended Beelzebub Majoris' wicked existence with an instantaneous ceasing of the angular movement.
Lesice and Sylvia Gonzales had stood by, clapping applause in excitement, without understanding the deeper significance of the artful event.

The magenta part of Excalibur laid shattered as the purple fangs of Excalibur's Count Dracula, which had screwed Beelzebub Majoris to death.
Retrieving the remnant of the magic wand of the Lady of Lake Westwind; Sancho Panza and Benji had found a 8-pieced lilac-indigo coloured buttercup, near the magenta fragments of the tip of the now defunct Excalibur.
Don Quixote turned to Lesice Gonzales.

"The test is completed my friend. As you can see, the rapier broke under the impact force of your windmill. This means that we shall report to the King of France, that the raw material and the craftsmanship of the swordmakers requires improvement.
The timing mechanisms proved correct; your windmill served as the appropriate testing material, a worthy duelling opponent indeed."

Don and Sancho bade their gregarious hosts farewell with another toast to the successful completion of the mission and rode back to Oakwood East.

"Flattery will open all locked doors, Sancho", laughed Don.

"Next time the whole valley will believe that we are emissaries from the King of France. That will confuse them even more.
We attacked Manuel's windmill by surprise and Lesice's by stealth, well their own pride and wish for esteem really."

"Don, Le Musketeer and Cavalier Servante' I would not lie, and the King of France did not really send us!?"

"Sancho, we did not lie at all. Who is the King of France?"

"Don't know Don!"

"Just as Cavalier Servante' did send me and Le Musketeer is part of you; do you not think that the King of France, whoever he might be, has a say ... Rex Bonaparte to show him the ways, even if he is unaware of it?"

"Of course Don. And then if in terms of the character of the loving way Cavalier Servante', I and Le Musketeer and Rex Bonaparte are One in All and All in One and so One and the Same, then the King of France really did send us to test Excalibur."

And you remember the motto of the Three Musketeers dont you: 'All for One and One for All!"

You see, Le Musketeer has played the role of Rex Bonaparte, Sancho".

"That isfor us men, Don. But that means that queen Sophia is a name for Maria and Dulcinea and Pasqualina and whoever can wake up to themselves."

Maria​

"Your genius is shining brightly", laughed Don as they reached Sophia's hut.



CHAPTER TEN: *DULCINEA'S FANTASY

Don and Sancho stepped into the cabin of Maria the herbalist and found an already prepared dinner dished up on the living room table.
A beautiful woman, carrying a jug of spring water, filled with natural minerals joined the warriors and poured refreshments in to crystalline glasses, standing upon the table.

"Hello, Don and Sancho. Maria has sent me to look after you.
I am Rebecca, the apprentice alchemist of Maria Infinity".

"Where is Maria?", asked Sancho.

"Maria is still at Windby Woods. But she has given me instructions regarding the Philosopher's Stone.
Have you found Pauline-Ann?"

"Yes, we think so", Sancho gave the 8-pieced buttercup to Rebecca.

Don Quixote looked at Rebecca admiringly: " You are so beautiful, Rebecca and you remind me of someone."

"Everything and everyone is connected and related somehow, my gallant Donato, Don of the Tao", replied Rebecca smiling lovingly at Don.

Don turned to Sancho to disguise the blush, creeping up into his face.

"Hmm, yes my fellow knight of the golden new dawn. Cleopatra is now just a white segment with the bronzen handle. I shall rename it now the dagger of Cavalier Servante'; the weapon of Fatherlie's perdition.
I shall retire early tonight to gather strength for the battle to the death tomorrow."

Rebecca​

"Don I wish I could help you physically in that duel, but Cleopatra's magic as your dagger relies upon your personal aptitude.
Benjamin shall try to help you in attempting to distract the lord of the windmill devils by charging at him.
All the devils fear Benji as the heavenly ghosthound. How the Fake of it All will react to our hellhound I do not know however"; said Sancho Panza hesitatingly.

Don Quixote had finished his dinner of saragossa trout, boiled buttered potatoes from Guadalajara and the customary rye bread with aniseeds.
Don stood up.

"Good night my friends!"; with a last adoring glance towards the beautiful Rebecca, Don Quixote retired to his bed to meditate for the melee laying ahead the next morning.

"Good night Don. I shall discuss our quest a little longer with Rebecca, before joining you in retirement for the night", said Sancho, sipping the delicious mineral water from the geysers of Windby Woods.

A cloudy morning dawned over the valley of the windmills.

"Looks like we could get a thunderstorm today", observed Don Quixote, who had received no further insights from his imagination during the night.

Actually, he had slept quite well, considering the seriousness of the situation at hand.

"Rain might keep the townsfolk inside and under shelter. That could suit us fine", answered Sancho Panza.

Rebecca served breakfast of Lisbon coffee, blackcurrant jam and buttered ryebread and added: "The elements are preparing themselves to actively participate in the metamorphosis of the caterpillar into the butterfly, my friends. The chrysalis of the alchemy of love is ready, like a bride adorned for her bridegroom."

"What does that mean Rebecca?", asked Sancho.

"It means that a new harmony between the elements can now almost be achieved by the addition of a fifth element, kind of encompassing them all like a plasma or Maria's sacred acorns of the mindful love awareness."

"Yes, it's this joining of opposites by an intermediary agent", explained Don.

"I've got it: Think of an elemental sequence like Fire-Earth-Air-Water, back to Fire and repeating itself. Then Earth is joined to both Fire and Air, but separated from Water as it's nourishing opposite or complement. The same way, Fire and Air are apart, the Fire needing the Air to breathe, to live.
Now marrying the Fire to the Earth makes Fireearth, two halves with the Earthfire, by the fifth element of the Mindplasma, which could also be termed four quarters of Fireearthairwater.
Fireearth and Earthair can now join the Fire and the Air by the common Earth or the common Water via Airwater and Waterfire and so on.

In mathematical terms the assignment of labels is arbitrary and setting Fire=1; Earth=2; Air=3 and Water=4 gives 1+2=3 and 3+4=7.
But since 3+7=10+1+0=1 again, we have effectively transformed the basic, first element into it's higher manifestat like 1=1+0=1=10=01 in a mirror symmetry effect.
This is numerological gematria, a hermetic code", Don Quixote said, pleased about his deductive analysis.

"My, my; you do have a very good grasp of the alchemical intricacies", smiled an appreciative Rebecca.

"I do try my best in all the things I study. I'm not scared of the details, the hard mental yakka one must put in to train one's mind of the intellect; to teach oneself how to think rationally and logically".

"That will be the way of the new perception, the loving intellect", nodded the junior alchemist.

"Well, let's do it. Let's get Fatherlie.
No more pussy footing or outsmarting the fake reality.
I shall go straight for this monstrosity, the abomination of all abominations", Don Quixote raised Cavalier Servante' the dagger above his head.

"The princes of the sky will be with you and I shall call upon the floral princesses", said Rebecca, as she farewelled the knights and their fourlegged companions.

Light drizzling rain fell, as Don and Sancho reached war-point number 10.
The activities about the market place were subdued.
People were surrying for shelter, as the drizzle changed into a steady shower of downpouring rain.

Don and Sancho rode up the little hill, which was the location of the mayor's windmill and which precisely pinpointed the place of the mortal duel between Donato Quixote and Fatherlie.

"There is that abnormal miscreation Sancho. I can feel him in my bones. He's not scared of us, but a kind of calamitous aura seems to permeate the air all about here now."

"Yes, now I see him clearly. He's sort of grinning at us with disdain written all over his hellish grimace.
Now he's shaking his left and seven-clawed fist at us.
He is calling us despicable worms, unfit to crawl upon his Earth.
He says he shall kill me and feed my flesh to the maggots; and my memory to the world shall be of Don Quixote, the fool of all the fools.

That idiot, who thought that he could play god, the creator of the world; the arrogant know-it-all, who fell prey to his own folly.
Now the fiend is laughing his head of and he's sticking his tongue out at me ", Don was looking with great concentration at the windmill blades revolving at about 10 cycles per minute in the streaming rain.

"I can feel something too Don. Hmm, let me tune in. Yes, there is this giant demon with long curled red horns and a pencil-pointed moustache.
He doesn't look frightening to me, rather comical, out of a book of the twilight zone or necromancy perhaps"; observed Sancho.

"It's the same thoughtform Sancho, even though our individual imaginations construct different images in our perceptions of the energy."

Don looked at the revolving bladed cross and raised the magic dagger.

"Sancho, I have no idea how to stop the shaft rotating this time.
The white segment is too short; it won't reach the masonry behind the blades, even if I could stab at them.
You're the engineer; what can you make of it?"

Sancho looked at the mechanics of the windmill cross.

"It's a tough one Don. Right there in the middle of the cross, the main shaft connects the blades through the masonry to the millstones inside. Maybe you could interfere with the horizontal shaft there, where it penetrates in to the brickwork."

"Only one way to find out", said Don, dismounting Rosinante and walking towards the mayoral windmill.

"How are you going to climb up there?", asked Sancho.

"Ah, I see! Benjamin would you like to help us? Charge my darling, get the beast and tear him apart!", Sancho sent the holy ghosthound on its way.

Benjamin gnarled and gnashed his canine fangs and leaped at Fatherlie; just as Don executed a little hop to grasp the windmill blade on its lowest point to catch a ride through the air upon Fatherlie' s left and outstretched arm.

The entire bladed fourcross appeared to wobble, trying to readjust its angular momentum, so violently disrupted by the addition of Don Quixote's bodyweight. There would have been an instantaneous halting of the shaft, but without direct application of Cleopatra, the ancient curse prevailed.

Don attempted valiantly to take a good hold and to climb or slide towards the supply shaft at the point of intersection of the four arms.

The door to the mayoral oaken cabin opened and Benito Diablos, closely followed by the mayoress Cynthia stormed out.

"I knew it Cynthia. This cock- and bull story Sylvia told you about. All lies!
These are dangerous lunatics, escapees from a mental asylum probably.
Quick send for Miguel Philipe, the constable to have them arrested.
It's jail for you, attacking my windmill and disturbing the peace in this valley for the umpteenth time!"

Cynthia ran down the hill as Benito Diablos shook his left fist at Sancho Panza, who observed Don' s rollercoasting ride around the main supply shaft; just barely holding on to the fourth arm with one arm and trying desperately to stab Cavalier Servante', Cleopatra's dagger, into the slim opening between a number of bricks, supported by metallic rings.

"I can't hit the bastard. It's too slippery. I can't get a good grip", shouted Don, slithering to and fro and tearing the skin of his left arm, used to hold his weight near the windcross centre.

"Get off my windmill you madman. You are going to cause some serious damage to my property. I'll have you charged and sued for retribution.
You shall regret this under punisnment, you imbecilic clown!", screamed Benito.

"Benito, Don is hurt. Can't you see the blood running down his arm?", interjected Sancho, who had been overcome by a sense of fear and foreboding.

"Take this, you are the clown of creation's worst joke ever told! ", cried Don Quixote, jabbing vehemently at the metallic annular shielding.

A brilliant and eye blinding flash lighted up the entire valley of the windmills, as lightning struck the supply shaft, electrocuting Fatherlie in a white flash of elemental evaporation and primordial fusion.
Sancho Panza rushed to the foot of the mayoral windmill to pull Don Quixote away from the revolving windmill blades.

"He's a goner! A fool's fitting end for an unteachable madman", said Benito, shaking his head.

"He must have thought this to be his own windmill!"

A number of people had gathered under the news of Cynthia Diablos and Miguel Philipe, the local policeman.

"Don, oh Don. It just can't end this way!", cried Sancho Panza, as he strapped the lifeless body of Don Quixote onto Rosinante to ride back to Maria's cabin.

What would the story of the heroes be now?
Maria, if she was back and Rebecca, could have no answer to such a tragedy. Cleopatra's white segment was burned to cinders and the bronzed handle too had become obliterated by the lightning strike.

Sancho Panza did not notice the female black kitten, which followed the mournful procession to Oakwood East.
A despondent Sancho and a sad Rebecca prepared the waking vigil, after placating Don Quixote in his bed in the oaken chalet.

"I was successful in making the elixir of the floral princesses, Sancho.
The four princesses of the 4,12,20,8 and Maria's sacred acorns.
The least we can do is honour our Don, by embalming his corpse with the magic nature of his life; he lived and died for it", said the alchemist.

"Should we bury him here, near Benji; or should I take him back to his villa for entombment or cremation?", Sancho asked with agony.

"Sleep on it Sancho. I can keep the vigil by myself!", answered Rebecca.

"I couldn't sleep Rebecca, I'll just sit here and watch you."

Rebecca applied the Alabaster of Vitruvius to the body of Donato Quixote.

Dulcinea​

A black kitten, named Tracey Emilia Judith Gaby Angela Kay Patricia Rosa Cleopatra Juliet was rubbing against Rebecca's leg, as she held Don's hands, looking at the handsome hero of her many dreams and fantasies.

"I'll love you for my wife Dulcinea!", said Don Quixote, opening his eyes.

"I love you too; forever! I am so happy now! ", replied Maria Infinity.

The End

Postlude of Cosmic Romeo's Poem to Cosmic Juliet.

​