At the heart of Trials of Destiny lies a struggle of self-discovery through the halls of power, masked figures, and shifting truths. A faun, the eternal dreamer, steps from the forest into the court, donning armor he found by the ghost of a knight in a field. To wear the suit is to engage in the theatre of history, to submit oneself to the trials of those who have come before. And yet, the deeper one walks, the more apparent it becomes: the journey is not through a kingdom of men, but through the mind itself.
This is a story of ambition, seduction, and betrayal an odyssey into the machinations of power, where every lesson is a test, every gift a snare. The King, he discovers, is a reflection of the self, of history ~ he praises, then undermines. Teaches, then mocks. It is a method familiar to any who has stood before a so-called mentor, drooling promises of ascension.
TRIALS OF DESTINY II
The visions I saw,
As I stepped into court ~
It was a dream.
Through his labyrinth, I walked,
As IF I were, a mere idea in someone else’s mind.
This journey of mine,
Thread through the maze,
Pulled along by unseen hands,
Toward a glow,
Toward the biggest show in the land.
I stepped through the gates of paradise,
And the world unfolded like a painting alive.
The golden towers stretched endlessly,
Their spires vanishing into the heavens.
The streets below filled with those,
Who shon with an inner light,
As though their hearts had been polished to brilliance.
Marble statues lined the grand avenues,
Each one greater than the last.
Yet as I walked, I saw them move;
Subtle shifts of their eyes,
The flicker of a hand,
Caught mid-motion.
Were they watching?
Or was this another trick of this maze?
FAUN
“Do you see me?”
The air was thick with music,
A symphony of strings and choirs,
Rising and falling like waves.
Even the smallest sound,
The rustle of a robe,
The tap of a heel against the stones,
Became at one with the melody.
The crowd parted as I moved through them,
Their faces obscured by masks of intricate design,
Gold, ivory, and obsidian,
Each adorned with feathers and jewels, just like mine.
They spoke a language I had never heard.
CROWD
“Can we trust?”
“Is he one of us?”
“Ask him?”
“Where are you from?”
“Where is your virtue?”
“What do you want?”
FAUN
“To tell the truth, I’m a faun from the forest”
CROWD
“He said he’s a whaler from the oceans”
“Hate him!”
I ran.
“Hold on!”
Above, the sky churned with motion.
Serpents of light woven into an ocean,
Of scales and skate,
Leaving trails of luminescence in their wake.
This was not the sky I had known;
This was a canvas of dreams,
Chaos & beauty as one.
Fountains dotted the plazas,
Their waters cascading in impossible patterns ~
Liquid gold, flowing upward before falling in crystalline arcs.
In one, a phoenix bathed,
Its feathers igniting with every splash,
Only to extinguish in a burst of steam.
In another, a school of fish swam against the current,
Their scales reflecting the faces of those who gazed too long.
It all glowed upwards in shimmering turrets.
My horns loomed above the crowd,
A beacon I could not hide.
To move among them, without blame,
I had to become something else.
Something unlike myself.
A deep hum that echoed in my chest,
As though the very stones recognized my presence.
And then, the throne room came into view.
Cinematic poetry by Laurence Fuller
@LaurenceFuller
www.laurencefuller.art
