#is the only explanation for the lack of proportion hue hue

[essays-for-breakfast]

A Song to Forget All Trouble

Kiane Week Day Four: Reign/Daily Life

With each sunrise, another problem awaited Diane. Or, for the sake of accuracy, a mountain of problems. Ruling an entire clan was one thing, but the management of two clans who had spent to majority of three millennia with scornful looks and cold shoulders had more in common with a wrestling match against a Tyrant Dragon. With arms tied behind the back. Giants and Fairies alike always found one little annoyance to blow out of proportion and add to the list of matters Diane needed to discuss and solve with the parties involved.

The quarrel for a resting spot on one of the Fairy King’s Forest’s countless clearings took her half a day to settle because both the Giant and the opposing group of Fairies claimed to have arrived there first. Around noon, Diane ordered the squabblers to find other places to sleep and opened the clearing to a horde of Giant children. At the end of their play session, a rugged crater disfigured the landscape, and smashed golem heads roasted in the sun. No one wanted to rest there anymore.

Every trampled flowerbed and every earth-made pillar became a file on Diane’s metaphorical desk. Fairies liked to boast about their inability to understand concepts like possession and greed, but when someone asked them to share their precious forest with outsiders, they crossed their arms and jutted their chins faster than one could turn over a leaf.

Even if their king asked them.

But the Giants didn’t cover themselves in glory with their behavior either. Their daily fighting tournaments, these days held for sport rather than war training, flattened entire areas on a regular basis. And while the Giants toasted to their displays of power, the present Fairies had little to laugh about. To them, a tree was a lifeform in the same way as a deer or a chaffinch. To a Giant, a tree was a resource for weapons and sometimes a javelin in their ego games.

Drole had assured that Diane would make for the ideal queen to their people. If only he had mentioned the massif of hurdles on the road of leadership.

Daylight was fading, and Diane more stumbled than walked towards the Great Tree. She hawked, but the lump in her throat sat on her voice like a fat, ugly toad. The avalanche of irritated ‘what?’ the near-deaf Giant had spat in her direction continued to ring in her ears. He had built a stone damn to turn the southern river into his private bathing lake. The shrubs and flowers he had put underwater by proxy had concerned him no more than a change in the clouds above. Diane had repeated and rerepeated herself in explaining the problem he had created, but more than another ‘what?’ hadn’t come out of him. A wonder the old man still lived – with the philosophy of the Giants in mind, a useless member of the pack went to bed each night in expectation of a slit throat.

Diane rolled her shoulders to shake away these gloomy thoughts. The merger had its upsides too. She just needed to remind herself of them once in a while.

The stench of fire, mingled with the alluring but precarious aromas of roasted boar hit her before the massive shape of the Great Tree came into view. Not again. Diane darted into the bushes, a string of curses she had picked up from Ban on her lips.

In most cases, even the most traditionalist of Fairies looked past the campfires the Giants gathered around to exchange war stories. But when these parties involved hunted wildlife – deer, boars, or the sinfully delicious cranes found in the western lake district of the forest –, a war declaration already waved between the trees by the time King or Diane could intervene.

Along with the cackling of the fire, the sound of laughter and, strangest of all, music reached Diane’s ear as she zigzagged through the pine trunks. The out of place sound almost made her stumble. Had the wind solely carried the beat of drums, she would have continued her race without a second thought. But a small orchestra of pipes and flutes gave the rhythmic pounding a melody unlike anything she had ever heard in Megadoza. If any Giant knew how to craft and play a flute, Matrona had to have hid them in the catacombs underneath the rock city during Diane’s two hundred years of training there.

A final sprint brought Diane to the clearing from where the smell of meat and the sound of music originated. But instead of a pack of drunk and bellowing Giants, the last sunrays reflected from the faces of Fairies and Giants alike. And instead of accusations hurled at the other clan, laughter tied both sides together.

Above the open fire, spits laden with meat turned while a soup happily bubbled in an oversized iron cauldron. A handful of lanterns in the shape of tulips adorned the trees around. While not as golden or luxurious as the festivities Diane had visited in Liones, the clearing showed all the makings of a celebration, complete with a colorful assembly of guests.

King hovered in the middle of the illusive scenery and conversed with Matrona and Ritho, an older Giant whose passion lay with war before any other activity. All three of them were smiling.

Diane maltreated her temple with her knuckles, but the illusion refused to collapse and return to the dust of her imagination. What had happened in her absence that all conflicts between Giants and Fairies had smoothened into a pretty party with a pretty ribbon to complete the present? Had Bartra Liones foreseen the end of the world for tomorrow? Another explanation failed to arise out of the muddle of her thoughts.

She stared, and she stood, unable to move or comprehend what was playing out before her eyes.

King noticed Diane, nodded to Matrona and Ritho, and floated towards her with two minimalistic flaps of his wings.

He lifted the paralyzed fingers of her right hand with visible effort, and beamed at her. “I’m glad you made it. Gerheade was almost on her way to catch you at the Great Tree. I wasn’t sure when you would return, but I guess everything worked out better than expected.”

“I don’t understand. Did I miss something?”

A shade of pink darkened his cheeks. The orange hues of the fire emphasized the effect. “Didn’t I tell you? We want to celebrate the merger between the Fairy and Giant Clan. We got lucky with the weather tonight, otherwise the open fire might have given us some headaches. Oh, and Happy Anniversary!”

Diane blinked. “It’s… been a year already?! I thought… two weeks, a month at most…”

“If Gerheade hadn’t reminded me, I would have said the same, but here we are. A year later. I’m so proud of what we’ve built here. What you started when you told me about your idea with the merger – no one other than you could have even considered to bridge the cleft between our two clans. All because no one sees the good in others like you do.” King inhaled, and his tiny hands increased their grip around Diane’s fingers. “I love you so much. None of this would have been possible without you.”

His touch and the warmth of his smile melted all troubles and anxiousness of the day away. Nothing else mattered, and if Diane had to put up with a thousand near-deaf Giants to earn this one moment with the one she loved, she would jump into the fray without hesitation.

She dragged him closer, intoxicated by the flowery scent of his skin, lost in his amber eyes, and cradled by all the compliments he showered her with, too generous to be true, but oh, so earnest. The cleft disappeared, and Diane covered King’s face with a kiss.

Before he could pass out from a lack of oxygen, Diane pulled back. She smiled at his expression, a perfect replica of the dazzled Fairy boy before he had grown his wings.

“I love you too, King. And thank you for the party. It’s perfect. When did you have time to organize all this anyway?”

“Oh, that? I really didn’t do much in terms of setting up the location or preparing the meat. The others deserve all your thanks for the hard work. I just flew around a little to find some special ingredients for the stew.”

Diane laughed. “Still a delivery boy at heart, I see. The Captain must have drilled this chore especially deep into your head.”

“I guess he discovered this hidden talent of mine before even I could see it.”

More and more Giants and Fairies followed the sound of the flutes, and soon the clearing disappeared in a crowd of feet and wings. Bowls of two different sizes wandered through the guests, a stew of turnips and roots and chanterelle. While nothing between Purgatory and the Sky Temple could match Ban’s carrot soup, Diane gulped down three helpings in record time, mesmerized by the earthy taste. And she would have asked for an additional portion, if King hadn’t handed her a spit with her favorite type of roasted pork.

The smell of fat made her mouth watery. “Can I marry you a second time?”

“I would marry you every single day, every single year ahead of us, if I could,” King said.

Diane grinned and for the next few minutes, she was too occupied with chewing to talk. The chatter of the people around her blurred into a pleasant carpet of sound. This was what she had always envisioned: Giants and Fairies united in spite of their stupid differences and their arguments, an exchange of words and food to the soft crackle of a campfire. And her and King in the middle of it all, finally side by side after all this time.

The stars stood high up in the sky, a million more than humans could ever spot in Liones or Camelot. From time to time, they winked as if to congratulate King and Diane on what they had accomplished. He leaned against her knee while she stroked the filigree ornamentations of his wings. A shudder rocked him whenever Diane found a new nerve to stimulate.

Neither of them felt the need to disturb the moment with words.

Then a single flute raised its voice above the conversations, a new tune, almost melancholic at first. A panpipe picked up where its companion had left of and gave the melody a merry spin. The flautist enticed a few more notes out of his instrument, and for a moment it and the panpipe seemed to fight a musical battle for the tone of their sonata. But then they fell into harmony, drums and chimes and a fiddle joined in, and soon the entire orchestra played a tarantella to invite the crowd to a dance.

King jerked up. After he had risen into the air, he bowed and extended a hand towards Diane. Sparks from the campfire reflected in his eyes.  “May I have this dance?”

Diane took his hand with a smile. “You may.”

One with the music and the rhythm of nature, King and Diane spun around the fire. Her feet bopped and arched, and he mimicked her moves midair. One moment she pulled him so close their noses almost touched, the next he guided her into another twirl and their fingers parted to finish a sequence with two claps. Other pairs skipped onto the dance floor; Matrona and Zalpa, Ende and Gerheade, and ever so rarely a Giant and Fairy together.

Although her steps lead her astray sometimes, Diane always found King’s eyes in the crowd. Never more than a pirouette away, still in sync with her. The music chased them in circles, two claps of the hands, and another sequence of hops and taps and spins. The odors of cooking fat and sweat from a multitude of dancers got to Diane’s head. Dizziness hijacked her senses until nothing but the next step filled her mind.

With two final claps, the dance ended. King hovered mere inches away from her, guided there by his own doing or a by a smile of fortune. His chest heaved up and down and the many turns had tousled his hair. But his grin was the incarnation of pure joy, brighter than the fire and the firmament.

Their kiss held more force this time, driven by the passion of the dance and heated by the blood rushing into both their heads. The touch of his skin and the flowery taste of his lips replaced the world around Diane, and they were one.

Yes, the merger caused them trouble every day, and Giants and Fairies alike strained their patience with a hellish desire to convince them to give up.

But King and Diane proved time and time again that beauty lay in the union between their clans. They fought for what they believed in, and they continued to push the boundaries of what Chaos’ creations were meant to achieve.

For moments like this.

[autolovecraft]

Once I caught the name of Charles Le Sorcier.

In one corner was an opening leading out into one of the most hideous practices. The circumstance to which I felt in my pockets for flint and steel, and my mind, remembering what had occurred, yet now realizing how the secret of Alchemy was solved? Without certain cause, the ill-paved courtyards, and lit the horrid scene with a ring, which lay directly beneath my foot. For centuries its lofty battlements have frowned down upon the plains that surround the base of the father and son ran one redeeming ray of humanity; the evil old man, who had therefore been called Le Sorcier! In what strange form the curse been carried on through all the Counts of my ancestors. When at last my senses returned, all was frightfully dark, and began to connect them with the rot of long dampness, met my eyes must have started from their orbits at the same fateful age, even down to days and hours, I was able to piece together disconnected fragments of discourse, let slip from the damp and sunken pavement. It was perhaps an effect of such surroundings that my mind early acquired a shade of melancholy.

His figure, lean to the sinister Charles Le Sorcier! Without warning, I heard the heavy door behind me creak slowly open upon its rusted hinges. It was perhaps an effect of such a deadly marble-like whiteness as I delved deeper and deeper into the works of the most startling nature, and gnarled, were spent the first years of my flickering torch that a blank, water-stained wall impeded my journey. At this point I was left to imagine the solution of the dark natures of the spectral wood that clothes the side of the objects I encountered. The dread of years was lifted from my ears the idle tales of the most dreaded and formidable fortresses in all France. But when, years afterward, the peasants told in whispers that their seigneur had but lately passed his thirty-two, a youth as proficient as himself in the ages passed, first saw the light of day, ninety long years ago. In one corner was an opening leading out into one of the stranger raised a glass phial with the desire to learn more of the hill near its foot. A poverty but little above the level of dire want, together with a pride of name that forbids its alleviation by the would-be assassin proved too much for my already shaken nerves, and rooting me to shun, and stoutly resisting all my danger from the society of the sound, my eye fell upon a small trapdoor with a ghastly radiance. As soon as the torch which I lowered into the night. He had studied beyond the Gothic door. When at last but a single tower housed the sadly reduced descendants of the château, I burned with the evident intent of ending my life as had Charles Le Sorcier must in the acquisition of daemonological and alchemical learning.

Prompted by some preserving instinct of self-defense, I turned and faced the seat of the apartment was an only child and the want of a terrible and intense black hue, and disclosing in the minds of the dread curse upon our line from maintaining their estates in pristine splendor; and the lack of companionship which this fact entailed upon me was augmented by the remains of the pendulum of the alchemist, I turned and faced the seat of the strange care exercised by my aged guardian, in excluding me from the hour of his meaning, the Count and his associates turned away and entered the chamber beyond the custom of his kind, seeking such things as the tunic of dark color. My immediate sensations were incapable of analysis. Thus time and the faded tapestries within, all tell a gloomy tale of fallen grandeur. As I slowly traversed the niter-encrusted passageway at the age which had begun to falter in approaching senility, that had a sort of relation to a narrow stone-flagged passage which I had so long viewed with apprehension. Pausing, I burned with the gnarled trees of the assassin could be found, though little above the rank of peasant, by the words 'years' and 'curse' issued from the society of the greatest mystery of all my attempts to open it. His figure, lean to the estate. And my mother having died at my birth, my eyes. Of my own youth one long-continued nightmare. Of my own youth one long-continued nightmare. The circumstance to which I had deemed the old castle in which they were set, opened wide with an expression which I had felled was the source of all were his eyes, blacker even than the moss-grown castle walls? Since most of my own youth one long-continued nightmare. In unusually rational moments I would fall back to the footsteps of the morning in climbing up and down half ruined staircases in one of the stranger with averted face but, as well as the tunic of dark color.

Thus isolated, and thus down through the spell that had hitherto considered this but a single tower housed the sadly reduced descendants of the sinister Charles Le Sorcier!

This pair, shunned by all honest folk, were of the morning in climbing up and down half ruined staircases in one of the apartment was an only child and the falling stones of the father and son ran one redeeming ray of humanity; the evil old man, who often spoke of the sorcerers and there upon the house of C—, first one, then another of the ancient tomes that filled the shadow-haunted library of the father and son, and thus down through the spell that had hitherto considered this but a natural explanation, attributing the early age at which all the long centuries since the time of Charles Le Sorcier appeared through the trees. When at last I turned away and entered the chamber beyond the Gothic door.

Have I not told you of the greatest mystery of all my excursions of discovery in the minds of the pendulum of the late Count's family, so that when Godfrey, innocent cause of the most profound and maddening shocks capable of reception by the vanishment of young Godfrey, innocent cause of the unhappy and accursed Counts de C—, first saw the light of my ancestors. Its contents were of a serpent, the Count and his associates turned away from the idea of beholding any more; yet curiosity over-mastered all. That a blank, water-stained wall impeded my journey. Thus isolated, and even Kings had been killed at the dreaded door of these two. It was in existence, I sought the lower levels, descending into what appeared to be either a medieval place of confinement, or the Wizard. In one corner was an only child and the meadowland around the hill.

When at last but a natural attribute of a skeleton, was killed by an arrow just as he approached the age of thirty-two, a person of no apparent cause, in no manner could I account for the proud house whose honored line is older even than the moss-grown castle walls? But when, suddenly leaping backwards into the face of his disconnected speech. It may have been gold, but which now became dimly terrible. Ceasing after a time my efforts in this direction, I trembled as I watched him. Filled with wonder, yet never had its spacious halls resounded to the proportions of a reminder dulled the memory of the most dilapidated of the two wizards, father and son ran one redeeming ray of humanity; the evil old man, who had therefore been called Le Sorcier. One night the castle, less than a week before that fatal hour which I lowered into the face of his vengeful curse. I was strangely bent and almost lost within the voluminous folds of his kind, seeking such things as the torch which I could have not even the slightest hope of continuing to draw breath that I was, modern science had produced no impression upon me was augmented by the words 'years' and 'curse' issued from the curse with myself. It may have been gold, but I was strangely affected by that which I had spent the first years of my whole life.

That I had proceeded back some distance toward the steps when there suddenly fell to my examination of the walls, the paving became very damp, and how came he within the voluminous folds of his vengeful curse. At length I approached that time when Charles Le Sorcier!

[sasshole-for-rent]

I wrapped the white rose’s stem slowly around my index finger, before tying it to the half completed flower crown that sat on my lap. I had used my thumb nail to scoop out the sharp thorns. The last thing I wanted was to get pricked by one of them. My tight tying of knots had jostled a petal from its home, I mourned it quietly as it fell to the floor. I couldn’t stop picturing that petal as me. Who were my real parents? And why did they abandon me? My movements were too lethargic for my liking as a placed the crown on my head. Suddenly, Kaidan blew a puff of sweet smoke in my face, interrupting my melancholic thoughts. Most people would view that as rude, but it was a needed distraction and entirely innocuous. “Look up, Amalee.” He breathed, thick plumes of white smoke floated up off his tongue like a sleepy dragon’s yawn. “It’s raining.” The rain pitter-pattered on the glass roof, like a poor sod begging to be let in. The dying light of the setting sun filtered through the many windows that made up the frame of our home. The last rays of daylight washed us in fiery hues, dying the smoke around us a vibrant shade of magenta. A half hearted smirk tugged at the the corner of my lips. Usually I would appreciate the beauty the mother bestowed, and would try my best to paint it, but lately, I rarely even thought of painting. I did so adore how rain felt on my skin. I remembered how the cool drops calmed me. If I had let my impulsiveness take hold of me, I would’ve leaped through the double doors and danced in the serein like a madwoman. Though the last time I did that, Zaphira scolded me for making myself sick with a dastardly case of pneumonia. I had drank her herbal teas religiously for two weeks before the illness finally subsided. Kaidan handed me the blunt. “Here. Take a hit.” He stroked my hair rhythymatically, almost nodding off, while doing so. But his heavy lids remained open, waiting for me. I happily obliged. I inhaled sharply, watching the embers glow, and tasting the smoke. It unfurled deep within my lungs like a bird ready to take flight, yearning to wander through the clouds as the current lifted it higher. I resisted the urge to cough as it tickled my throat. My favorite part was exhaling. I freed the sweet smoke from my lungs, after it served its purpose. I watched as it billowed, effortlessly floating away, and out the window that was cracked just a enough for it to escape. I wished I could be that free, but I was chained emotionally to a man who may not even love me. A thought slid over my mind like molten silk. So many people needed to be under the influence just to feel sane, to feel happy. A false sense of purpose coating and justifying addiction. I wasn’t one such person, but I knew those who were, and for that my heart was pricked by pity. I looked at Kaidan, my friend. He was a mercenary. He had been in so many life threatening situations. In his line of work it was expected of him to follow orders, no matter how heinous they were, all for a little gold. It wore him down, so many lives ended by his blade. Only when he was coddled by smoke did he seem to let his human emotions show. His bloodshot gaze locked on the ceiling. He blinked once, slowly as if it was strenuous. “Do you ever wonder why we are here?” I took another hit, longer this time. I laid my head on his shoulder as I savored the taste. Indescribable, indecipherable, indulgent flavors pirouetted on my taste buds. My mind whirred, gears turning like an overly oiled machine, too fast for my tongue to voice all the thoughts begging to be heard. “Well,” I exhaled. “Legends say that a great goddess…” Devoid of his usual indifference, Kaidan interrupted me. “No, I’m not asking how we were created. I mean why are we here? What purpose does our existence hold?” I handed him the blunt. He inhaled a brief toke, then closed his eyes. I spoke solemnly, smoke still oozing from my lungs, punctuating my every word. “I believe that every mortal on this planet, every creature has to discover that answer themselves. And that the answer won’t be the same for everyone.” “Maybe, there isn’t even an answer…” He spoke suddenly. His throat bobbed as if he wanted to say more, but lacked the words. Or, perhaps the words tittered on his tongue, but he was afraid to say them out loud. I laughed. An obnoxious, uncontrollable laughter that erupted from deep within me, and echoed out of my throat. Which, of course, induced a fit of raucous coughs. Kaidan’s face split into a stupid grin, flashing me with his seldomly-exposed smile, as he chortled. “Maybe the explanation of our lives is just a joke of godly proportions, and our justification for the existence of death is purpose, a palpable, promised, potential invented by hopeful minds in denial, a falsehood, that herds us to the inevitable like compliant sheep.” “Amalee, are you all right? You usually aren’t one to be fatalistic.” His lazy grin falling off his face like the rain that now roared above us. I looked at the thing between my two fingers and flicked its ashes away in frustration. “Isn’t this stuff supposed to make people happy? It seems as though everytime I smoke it, I transform into a sad philosopher. I sincerely apologize if I ruined your high.” An inappropriate giggle erupted from somewhere in my throat. I attempted to muffle myself with the firmness of Kaidan’s shoulder. He smiled down on me. “You could never ruin my high, even if you were determined to. Being with you is euphoric enough for me.” I didn’t say anything in response. My shoulders tensed at the hint of flirtation in his tone and my frown deepened. As if sensing my discomfort, Kaidan cleared his throat. “So what is really wrong? You haven’t been yourself for awhile. I noticed it that night when you went to see Falkryn.” At the mention of his name, my heart palpitated. I tried to exhale a steady breath, but my smoke filled lungs betrayed me. My red tinged nose tingled, and my throat tightened as I tried, but failed to hold back tears. “I don’t even know if he loves me.” I stole a glance at Kaidan’s serious face through tear brimmed eyes. “He wouldn’t even introduce me to his parents, like he is ashamed of me.” I choked out between sobs. “He would be stupid not to show you off.” Kaidan gestured to me with obvious flair, his distracting dreads swaying in and out of his face. “Look at you, no one could take a look at you and your baby blues and not want to be with you.” I laughed a little, feeling my cheeks brighten. Then, I felt my heart tug on my sleeve. I sighed, a great and smoke heavy sigh. “I only want him though.” I voiced pathetically. Kaidan cupped my face gently, forcing me to look him in the eye. Those emerald greens sparkling their severe glint. “If you love him, Lee-Lee, go talk to him. Make it right. I hate seeing you so torn up.” he removed his hands. My face immediately grew cold. “When was the last time you have even painted?” He cocked his head to the side. His dreads sliding off his shoulder one by one. I thought about that, and I couldn’t find the answer. When was the last time? I asked myself. “I don’t remember. A long while.” I mumbled out. It was Kaidan’s turn to sigh. It was a disheartening sound, all exasperating and full of disappointment. “Don’t ever let a man come between you and your passion. Go paint him being shattered into a million pieces, or chock full of arrows. I don’t care. Use your pain and go do something beautiful. Then go talk to the man and tell him how you feel.” He got up and grabbed one of my brushes, and slid it behind my ear. “Or I could kill him, if you wish.” He offered sweetly and inches from my face. “No killing.” I lightly punched him. “I like him too much.” Kaidan just looked down at the arm I hit through a shroud of lashes, shook his head, and chuckled. “I would you know. No one hurts my Lee-Lee.” He said quietly, then tied on his knife belt. With a wicked smirk, he was gone.

“Different Strokes” By Riann Noelle Svejcara

[jakehglover]

Do Redheads Need Less Vitamin D?

By Dr. Mercola

Between 1 to 2 percent, or just 76 to 152 million people, of the global population has red hair. This unique hair color is caused by a mutation of the melanocortin 1 receptor (MC1R), a gene located on chromosome 16. MC1R is a protein involved in regulating your hair and skin color, as well as eye hue. As a recessive trait, the mutated gene must be inherited from both parents to produce a child with red hair.  

Variations in the MC1R gene are responsible for a range of reddish hair color — from “strawberry blond” to brown hair with red hues — and fair skin that may or may not be heavily freckled. Due to the type of melanin their bodies produce, redheads are at a greater risk of developing skin cancer even if they avoid sun exposure. On the positive side, their pale skin and sensitivity to ultraviolet (UV) light helps redheads produce vitamin D more efficiently than their blonde or brunette counterparts.

The History of Red Hair

While data on the exact distribution of redheads worldwide is unavailable, red hair seems to occur more frequently among northern and western Europeans and their descendants. Jacky Colliss Harvey, author of “A History of the Redhead,” told The Washington Post the MC1R gene originated in Central Asia and “thrives mainly in remote regions and closed communities such as Ireland, Scotland and coastal regions of Scandinavia.”1

Redhead characteristics, says Harvey, are due to “a mutation in the MC1R gene that fails to produce sun-protective, skin-darkening eumelanin and instead causes pale skin, freckles and red hair.” Indeed, your eye, hair and skin color are determined by a protein called melanin, of which there are two kinds:2

Eumelanin: If you produce mostly eumelanin, you tend to have brown or black hair and dark skin that tans easily. Eumelanin also protects your skin from damage caused by the sun’s UV rays.

Pheomelanin: If you produce mostly pheomelanin, you will likely have blond or red hair, freckles and light-colored skin that tans poorly. Due to the lack of protection from UV radiation afforded by pheomelanin, you will have an increased risk of skin damage caused by sun overexposure.

Professor Jonathan Rees, grant chair of dermatology at Scotland’s University of Edinburgh, and one of a team of scientists to identify the MC1R gene variants in humans,3 suggests Northern European countries are home to a greater proportion of redheads than anywhere else in the world. He believes the biggest concentrations of redheads are found in Ireland and Scotland.

"If you're in northern Europe, you get used to seeing people with different hair color," says Rees. “[I]f you just think about Asia, it's very, very rare to see somebody with red hair. And in most of Africa, it is exceedingly rare to see somebody with red hair. It is an unusual trait globally."4

Redheads May Need Less Vitamin D Than Others

Due to their naturally fair skin, redheads are able to produce vitamin D more effectively than most people.5 Even though vitamin D can be obtained naturally through sensible exposure to the sun, modern lifestyles and weather conditions in many parts of the world make it nearly impossible for some to obtain sufficient amounts. Given their genetic predisposition, redheads are able to produce it on their own. Said Harvey:6

“As our distant ancestors migrated to settle the cool, gray climes of Northern Europe, redheads had a signal advantage over their darker peers: Their pale skin produced vitamin D more efficiently from the wan sunlight, strengthening their bones and making women more likely to survive pregnancy and childbirth.”

The Daily Mail suggests having red hair and pale skin offers an important health advantage to those who possess it:7

“Redheads, it would seem, boast a genetic [secret] weapon which enables them to fight off certain debilitating and potentially deadly illnesses more efficiently than blondes or brunettes. A pale complexion permits more sunlight into the skin, where it encourages the production of vitamin D. This helps to prevent rickets, a disease which progressively weakens bone structures, and the lung disease tuberculosis, which can be fatal.”

Despite its name, vitamin D is not a regular vitamin. It’s actually a steroid hormone obtained primarily from sun exposure. Its ability to influence genetic expression produces many of its wide-ranging health benefits. Vitamin D is so important, research suggests simply increasing vitamin D3 levels in the general population could lower rates of chronic diseases such as depression, diabetes, heart disease, hypertension, obesity and more.

Beyond contributing to strong bones, sufficient amounts of vitamin D can help reduce your risk of several types of cancer. Furthermore, vitamin D strengthens your immune system, which protects you from colds and the flu by helping your body attack and destroy bacteria and viruses.

Sufficient Vitamin D Is Necessary for Optimal Health

Regardless of whether you possess the MC1R gene, your body needs a certain amount of vitamin D to promote and safeguard your health. The optimal vitamin D level for general health is in the 40 to 80 nanograms per milliliter (ng/ml) range; 60 to 80 ng/ml appears to be ideal.

While the ideal way to raise your vitamin D is by regularly and sensibly exposing large amounts of your skin to sunshine, that might not be possible where you live. If so, you will want to take an oral vitamin D3 supplement along with vitamin K2 and magnesium, to ensure maximum effectiveness.

You can determine your maintenance dose by measuring your blood level. Ideally, check your vitamin D level twice a year, in winter and summer, when your levels will be at their lowest and highest. As a general guideline, vitamin D experts recommend 4,000 IUs per day for adults, but that applies only if you are already in the therapeutic range. If your levels are low, you may need 8,000 IUs or more per day to start.

Particularly during the winter months, you’ll want to keep an eye on your levels. Lack of UV exposure can bring out the “winter blues,” leading to feelings of depression. If you notice your mood and energy levels are down, you may not be getting enough vitamin D. Even if you live in an area receiving year-round sun, you are at risk of missing out on vitamin D from natural sun exposure if you spend most of your time indoors, use topical sunscreens or wear long clothing for religious reasons.

Redheads at Greater Risk for Melanoma Even Without Sun Exposure

If you possess the MC1R gene, you are at a greater risk of developing melanoma, the deadliest form of skin cancer.8 Many have mistakenly assumed the increased risk is related to the fact that fair-skinned people possess the type of melanin that gives them less “natural sunscreen” against the sun’s UV rays. It follows then that the sun would be more damaging to redheads, thereby putting them at increased risk of skin cancer.

The problem with this widely held belief is that melanoma often appears on skin that is not exposed to sun, which suggests there must be another explanation. In fact, research suggests redheads have an increased melanoma risk whether they spend time in the sun or not. A 2012 study published in the journal Nature,9 among mice bred to be susceptible to cancer, 50 percent of those with golden-yellow hair (the “redheads”) developed melanoma within a year based on zero exposure to UV light.

This was a far higher incidence rate than occurred among albino or black mice. Even though the researchers initially thought their lights may have been emitting UV radiation, they realized UV light exposure was not the culprit. Instead, the pheomelanin pigment itself, which they say may contribute to damage from oxidative stress in the skin cells, is what triggers cancer.

With respect to subsequent research, published in JAMA Dermatology in 2016,10 Dr. David Fisher, director of the melanoma program at Massachusetts General Hospital, stated, "It’s been known for several decades that UV chemically excites [MC1R-variant] pheomelanin and triggers release of reactive oxygen species, while the brown-black eumelanin has some capacity to absorb UV and is also very good at quenching antioxidant damage in cells.”11

Sensitivity to Temperature and Pain Are Other Redhead Characteristics

Redheads are also likely to be more sensitive to temperature changes and pain than those with darker hair and skin. Research 12,13 conducted at the University of Louisville, in Kentucky, compared the pain tolerance of 30 red-headed volunteers to that of 30 brunettes. The redheads began to feel pain at around 43 degrees F, whereas those with darker hair did not begin to shiver until the temperature dropped near freezing.

The research team believes the MC1R gene may cause a redhead’s temperature-detecting response to become overactivated, resulting in them being more sensitive to cold. This study also involved the use of lidocaine, an anesthetic that works to decrease pain by temporarily numbing the area. Its use was shown to be significantly less effective in redheads. The study authors stated:14

“In summary, redheads are more sensitive to thermal pain than women with dark hair, but do not show differences in baseline electrical pain thresholds. Furthermore, redheads are more resistant to the analgesic effects of subcutaneous lidocaine. These results extend the previous observation that redheads are more resistant to volatile anesthetics.

Mutations of the melanocortin 1 receptor, or as a consequence thereof, therefore seem to modulate pain sensitivity. It remains unclear whether this modulation occurs at a central or peripheral level or both.”

If You Possess MC1R You May Need More Anesthetic, Less Painkillers

Dr. Daniel Sessler, who was previously associated with the University of Louisville and now chairs the department of outcomes research at Cleveland Clinic, suggested the study confirmed anecdotal evidence he’d gathered indicating redheads were more sensitive to certain types of pain. He stated:15

"After a previous study, we received more than 100 communications from redheads who claimed that anesthesia often failed or that unusually high doses of local anesthetics were required to achieve adequate analgesia. It suggested that the redhead gene may have some role in the pain pathway. That redheads are subject to sunburn and skin cancer must be linked to the difference in pain sensitivity."

Sessler also heard from redheads with respect to dental pain and their anxiety and fear about going to the dentist. As a result, he suggests that if you have red hair and are considering a dental or surgical procedure requiring an anesthetic, you should talk to your doctor about the likelihood that you may be somewhat resistant to anesthetics. “Because they’re resistant, many redheads have had bad experiences,” Sessler said. “If they go to the dentist or have a cut sutured, they’ll need more local anesthetic than other people.”16

A study published in the Journal of the American Dental Association17 involving 144 people, 85 of whom possessed variants of the MC1R gene, found participants with MC1R to be more anxious and fearful, as well as more avoidant, of dental care. The study authors said:

“Participants with MC1R gene variants reported significantly more dental care–related anxiety and fear of dental pain than did participants with no MC1R gene variants. They were more than twice as likely to avoid dental care as were the participants with no MC1R gene variants, even after [we] controlled for general trait anxiety and [gender].”

Other research18,19,20 suggests bearers of the MC1R gene are more sensitive to painkillers. Apparently, the same MC1R mutation that is responsible for red hair and fair skin also releases a hormone in the brain that has the ability to mimic endorphins. While endorphins have multiple functions, one of their primary roles relates to providing pain relief.

If you are a redhead, this mimicking ultimately affects how your body receives pain signals from your brain, causing you to have a heightened sensitivity to prescription opioid painkillers. As a result, you may be able to take smaller doses while achieving the same level of pain tolerance as others.21

from HealthyLife via Jake Glover on Inoreader https://articles.mercola.com/sites/articles/archive/2018/01/27/do-redheads-need-less-vitamin-d.aspx

[sherristockman]

Do Redheads Need Less Vitamin D? Dr. Mercola By Dr. Mercola Between 1 to 2 percent, or just 76 to 152 million people, of the global population has red hair. This unique hair color is caused by a mutation of the melanocortin 1 receptor (MC1R), a gene located on chromosome 16. MC1R is a protein involved in regulating your hair and skin color, as well as eye hue. As a recessive trait, the mutated gene must be inherited from both parents to produce a child with red hair. Variations in the MC1R gene are responsible for a range of reddish hair color — from “strawberry blond” to brown hair with red hues — and fair skin that may or may not be heavily freckled. Due to the type of melanin their bodies produce, redheads are at a greater risk of developing skin cancer even if they avoid sun exposure. On the positive side, their pale skin and sensitivity to ultraviolet (UV) light helps redheads produce vitamin D more efficiently than their blonde or brunette counterparts. The History of Red Hair While data on the exact distribution of redheads worldwide is unavailable, red hair seems to occur more frequently among northern and western Europeans and their descendants. Jacky Colliss Harvey, author of “A History of the Redhead,” told The Washington Post the MC1R gene originated in Central Asia and “thrives mainly in remote regions and closed communities such as Ireland, Scotland and coastal regions of Scandinavia.”1 Redhead characteristics, says Harvey, are due to “a mutation in the MC1R gene that fails to produce sun-protective, skin-darkening eumelanin and instead causes pale skin, freckles and red hair.” Indeed, your eye, hair and skin color are determined by a protein called melanin, of which there are two kinds:2 Eumelanin: If you produce mostly eumelanin, you tend to have brown or black hair and dark skin that tans easily. Eumelanin also protects your skin from damage caused by the sun’s UV rays. Pheomelanin: If you produce mostly pheomelanin, you will likely have blond or red hair, freckles and light-colored skin that tans poorly. Due to the lack of protection from UV radiation afforded by pheomelanin, you will have an increased risk of skin damage caused by sun overexposure. Professor Jonathan Rees, grant chair of dermatology at Scotland’s University of Edinburgh, and one of a team of scientists to identify the MC1R gene variants in humans,3 suggests Northern European countries are home to a greater proportion of redheads than anywhere else in the world. He believes the biggest concentrations of redheads are found in Ireland and Scotland. "If you're in northern Europe, you get used to seeing people with different hair color," says Rees. “[I]f you just think about Asia, it's very, very rare to see somebody with red hair. And in most of Africa, it is exceedingly rare to see somebody with red hair. It is an unusual trait globally."4 Redheads May Need Less Vitamin D Than Others Due to their naturally fair skin, redheads are able to produce vitamin D more effectively than most people.5 Even though vitamin D can be obtained naturally through sensible exposure to the sun, modern lifestyles and weather conditions in many parts of the world make it nearly impossible for some to obtain sufficient amounts. Given their genetic predisposition, redheads are able to produce it on their own. Said Harvey:6 “As our distant ancestors migrated to settle the cool, gray climes of Northern Europe, redheads had a signal advantage over their darker peers: Their pale skin produced vitamin D more efficiently from the wan sunlight, strengthening their bones and making women more likely to survive pregnancy and childbirth.” The Daily Mail suggests having red hair and pale skin offers an important health advantage to those who possess it:7 “Redheads, it would seem, boast a genetic [secret] weapon which enables them to fight off certain debilitating and potentially deadly illnesses more efficiently than blondes or brunettes. A pale complexion permits more sunlight into the skin, where it encourages the production of vitamin D. This helps to prevent rickets, a disease which progressively weakens bone structures, and the lung disease tuberculosis, which can be fatal.” Despite its name, vitamin D is not a regular vitamin. It’s actually a steroid hormone obtained primarily from sun exposure. Its ability to influence genetic expression produces many of its wide-ranging health benefits. Vitamin D is so important, research suggests simply increasing vitamin D3 levels in the general population could lower rates of chronic diseases such as depression, diabetes, heart disease, hypertension, obesity and more. Beyond contributing to strong bones, sufficient amounts of vitamin D can help reduce your risk of several types of cancer. Furthermore, vitamin D strengthens your immune system, which protects you from colds and the flu by helping your body attack and destroy bacteria and viruses. Sufficient Vitamin D Is Necessary for Optimal Health Regardless of whether you possess the MC1R gene, your body needs a certain amount of vitamin D to promote and safeguard your health. The optimal vitamin D level for general health is in the 40 to 80 nanograms per milliliter (ng/ml) range; 60 to 80 ng/ml appears to be ideal. While the ideal way to raise your vitamin D is by regularly and sensibly exposing large amounts of your skin to sunshine, that might not be possible where you live. If so, you will want to take an oral vitamin D3 supplement along with vitamin K2 and magnesium, to ensure maximum effectiveness. You can determine your maintenance dose by measuring your blood level. Ideally, check your vitamin D level twice a year, in winter and summer, when your levels will be at their lowest and highest. As a general guideline, vitamin D experts recommend 4,000 IUs per day for adults, but that applies only if you are already in the therapeutic range. If your levels are low, you may need 8,000 IUs or more per day to start. Particularly during the winter months, you’ll want to keep an eye on your levels. Lack of UV exposure can bring out the “winter blues,” leading to feelings of depression. If you notice your mood and energy levels are down, you may not be getting enough vitamin D. Even if you live in an area receiving year-round sun, you are at risk of missing out on vitamin D from natural sun exposure if you spend most of your time indoors, use topical sunscreens or wear long clothing for religious reasons. Redheads at Greater Risk for Melanoma Even Without Sun Exposure If you possess the MC1R gene, you are at a greater risk of developing melanoma, the deadliest form of skin cancer.8 Many have mistakenly assumed the increased risk is related to the fact that fair-skinned people possess the type of melanin that gives them less “natural sunscreen” against the sun’s UV rays. It follows then that the sun would be more damaging to redheads, thereby putting them at increased risk of skin cancer. The problem with this widely held belief is that melanoma often appears on skin that is not exposed to sun, which suggests there must be another explanation. In fact, research suggests redheads have an increased melanoma risk whether they spend time in the sun or not. A 2012 study published in the journal Nature,9 among mice bred to be susceptible to cancer, 50 percent of those with golden-yellow hair (the “redheads”) developed melanoma within a year based on zero exposure to UV light. This was a far higher incidence rate than occurred among albino or black mice. Even though the researchers initially thought their lights may have been emitting UV radiation, they realized UV light exposure was not the culprit. Instead, the pheomelanin pigment itself, which they say may contribute to damage from oxidative stress in the skin cells, is what triggers cancer. With respect to subsequent research, published in JAMA Dermatology in 2016,10 Dr. David Fisher, director of the melanoma program at Massachusetts General Hospital, stated, "It’s been known for several decades that UV chemically excites [MC1R-variant] pheomelanin and triggers release of reactive oxygen species, while the brown-black eumelanin has some capacity to absorb UV and is also very good at quenching antioxidant damage in cells.”11 Sensitivity to Temperature and Pain Are Other Redhead Characteristics Redheads are also likely to be more sensitive to temperature changes and pain than those with darker hair and skin. Research 12,13 conducted at the University of Louisville, in Kentucky, compared the pain tolerance of 30 red-headed volunteers to that of 30 brunettes. The redheads began to feel pain at around 43 degrees F, whereas those with darker hair did not begin to shiver until the temperature dropped near freezing. The research team believes the MC1R gene may cause a redhead’s temperature-detecting response to become overactivated, resulting in them being more sensitive to cold. This study also involved the use of lidocaine, an anesthetic that works to decrease pain by temporarily numbing the area. Its use was shown to be significantly less effective in redheads. The study authors stated:14 “In summary, redheads are more sensitive to thermal pain than women with dark hair, but do not show differences in baseline electrical pain thresholds. Furthermore, redheads are more resistant to the analgesic effects of subcutaneous lidocaine. These results extend the previous observation that redheads are more resistant to volatile anesthetics. Mutations of the melanocortin 1 receptor, or as a consequence thereof, therefore seem to modulate pain sensitivity. It remains unclear whether this modulation occurs at a central or peripheral level or both.” If You Possess MC1R You May Need More Anesthetic, Less Painkillers Dr. Daniel Sessler, who was previously associated with the University of Louisville and now chairs the department of outcomes research at Cleveland Clinic, suggested the study confirmed anecdotal evidence he’d gathered indicating redheads were more sensitive to certain types of pain. He stated:15 "After a previous study, we received more than 100 communications from redheads who claimed that anesthesia often failed or that unusually high doses of local anesthetics were required to achieve adequate analgesia. It suggested that the redhead gene may have some role in the pain pathway. That redheads are subject to sunburn and skin cancer must be linked to the difference in pain sensitivity." Sessler also heard from redheads with respect to dental pain and their anxiety and fear about going to the dentist. As a result, he suggests that if you have red hair and are considering a dental or surgical procedure requiring an anesthetic, you should talk to your doctor about the likelihood that you may be somewhat resistant to anesthetics. “Because they’re resistant, many redheads have had bad experiences,” Sessler said. “If they go to the dentist or have a cut sutured, they’ll need more local anesthetic than other people.”16 A study published in the Journal of the American Dental Association17 involving 144 people, 85 of whom possessed variants of the MC1R gene, found participants with MC1R to be more anxious and fearful, as well as more avoidant, of dental care. The study authors said: “Participants with MC1R gene variants reported significantly more dental care–related anxiety and fear of dental pain than did participants with no MC1R gene variants. They were more than twice as likely to avoid dental care as were the participants with no MC1R gene variants, even after [we] controlled for general trait anxiety and [gender].” Other research18,19,20 suggests bearers of the MC1R gene are more sensitive to painkillers. Apparently, the same MC1R mutation that is responsible for red hair and fair skin also releases a hormone in the brain that has the ability to mimic endorphins. While endorphins have multiple functions, one of their primary roles relates to providing pain relief. If you are a redhead, this mimicking ultimately affects how your body receives pain signals from your brain, causing you to have a heightened sensitivity to prescription opioid painkillers. As a result, you may be able to take smaller doses while achieving the same level of pain tolerance as others.21

[dorthywilkins6-blog]

Preparation Your Kitchen area.

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Take the design a little bit of retro through combining either paintinged or even hardwood slab doors and drawers. The style in the kitchen should work with the remainder of the style in your house.

[autolovecraft]

But since those glorious years, all is changed.

I had hitherto held me immovable, and soon I saw my opponent to be, I was left to imagine the solution of the old château, which lay directly beneath my foot. 'May ne'er a noble of thy murderous line survive to reach a greater age than thine!

Thus time and the faded tapestries within, all was frightfully dark, and terminated in a skull-cap and long medieval tunic of the objects I encountered. I was strangely bent and almost lost within the voluminous folds of his kind, seeking such things as the Philosopher's Stone or the Elixir of Eternal Life, and Armands snatched from happy and virtuous lives when little below the age of Count Henri at his end, dwelt on the aged wizard, and rooting me to the footsteps of the sorcerers and there came upon the plains that surround the base of the ruined and abandoned halls and towers of the assassin could be found, though relentless bands of peasants scoured the neighboring woods and the faded tapestries within, all is changed. Here I found what seemed much like an alchemist's laboratory. Perhaps it was at a loss to gather the purport of his meaning, the worm-eaten wainscots, and began to connect them with the rot of long dampness, met my eyes. That clothes the side of the alchemist, I burned with the gnarled trees of the vast and gloomy chambers of this remaining tower that I, Antoine, last of the curse been carried on through all the Counts of my great house, yet as I watched him. At this point I was able to gain seemed to hear emanating from it a faint sound, my belief in the unsteady glare the top of a man clad in a nearby field of no small accomplishments, though little above the level of dire want, together with a shocking sound like the hissing of a serpent, the stranger raised a glass phial with the gnarled trees of the sound, as I might, in a skull-cap and long medieval tunic of the whole tragedy and now bearing the title, was found drowned in the acquisition of daemonological and alchemical learning. But since those glorious years, all tell a gloomy tale of fallen grandeur. When at last but a natural explanation, attributing the early age at which all the long centuries fulfilled the dreadful curse upon the plains that surround the base with the desire to learn singularly little, yet what small knowledge of it I was permitted to learn singularly little, yet what small knowledge of it eternal life and youth.He shrieked, 'Can you not how the curse in the Middle Ages, and gloated over the ancient Gothic doorway stood a human figure. His figure, lean to the sinister thing which had haunted my days and hours, I was at first only the manifest reluctance of my time was now occupied in the library told off so much of my childhood in poring over the revenge of Charles Le Sorcier and his heirs; yet, having found upon careful inquiry that there were no thoughts save those of grief at his end, dwelt on the floor.

I allude is the early age at which all the long centuries fulfilled the dreadful curse upon our line from maintaining their estates in pristine splendor; and his associates turned away from the damp and sunken pavement. Then, as well as the only human creature within the castle walls. At the farther end of the deep alchemical studies of the four great turrets were left to ponder on myself as the tunic of dark color. First of all my excursions of discovery in the acquisition of daemonological and alchemical learning. Isolated as I approached the body, I would even go so far as to seek a natural explanation, attributing the early deaths of my childhood in poring over the ancient tomes that filled the shadow-haunted library of the most dreaded and formidable fortresses in all France.

I was born, by name, was this man of evil, and gloated over the revenge of Charles Le Sorcier. Alone I buried him beneath the stones of the deep alchemical studies of the sound, my belief in the terrible secrets of Black Magic and Alchemy. The paper carried me back to occult studies, and left him to die at the age of thirty-second birthday when surprised by early death.

First of all, how the curse should overtake me, piercing my soul with their hatred, and huge bats flapped their bony and uncanny wings on all sides of the hill. Thus time and the faded tapestries within, all is changed. I lowered into the night, returning in after years to kill Godfrey the heir with an arrow whilst hunting at the creature who menaced my existence. As I drew near the age of thirty-two years. His forehead, high beyond the Gothic door. As the afternoon progressed, I sought the lower levels, descending into what appeared to be, I turned to examine the charred and shriveled figure on the wrong perpetrated by my aged guardian, in the minds of the castle. The hideous eyes were now fixed upon me, but which now became dimly terrible. At my evident ignorance of his birth. My immediate sensations were incapable of analysis.

To be confronted in a nearby field of no apparent cause, in excluding me from the society of the ruined and abandoned halls and towers of the unhappy and accursed Counts de C—, first one, then another of the vast and gloomy chambers of this remaining tower that I was an only child and the meadowland around the hill. He told how young Charles has escaped into the works of the most dreaded and formidable fortresses in all France. The apparition spoke of the castle.Spake he, when the old château and its contents.

I kept a most careful record, for the man had obtained access to the proportions of a serpent, the aged Pierre gave to me each day, but suddenly the fiendish glare returned and, with a ghastly radiance. Alone I buried him beneath the stones of the hidden arts, who often spoke of the old alchemists and daemonologists. I knew that he whom I had spent the first years of my troubled life. And my mother having died at my birth, my care and education devolved solely upon one remaining servitor, an old and trusted man of evil, and how came he within the great fortress, and thus down through the trees.

The apparition spoke of the most dreaded and formidable fortresses in all France. His figure, lean to the sinister Charles Le Sorcier, six hundred years before, ended that of a certain circumstance which I had proceeded back some distance toward the steps when there suddenly fell to my examination of the walls, the overgrown vegetation in the Middle Ages, and of incredible profusion. At my evident ignorance of his birth. Thus was I left to imagine the solution of the place, and again I fancied that the words 'years' and 'curse' issued from the twisted mouth. Determined upon further exploration, I would even go so far as to seek a natural attribute of a terrible and intense black hue, and gloated over the revenge of Charles Le Sorcier and his associates turned away and entered the chamber beyond the usual dimensions; his cheeks, deep-sunken and heavily lined with wrinkles; and the unaccountable disappearance of many small peasant children was laid at the creature who menaced my existence. Since most of my troubled life. It was upon one of the strange care exercised by my prolonged researches into the repellent depths burned freely and steadily, I kept a most careful record, for I am Charles Le Sorcier, six hundred years before, ended that of a stone somehow dislodged from one of the hill. Of my exact age of Count Henri at his father's at his end, I had read. The Count died without utterance, and toppling towers without, as wrapped as had been his father's slayer as he approached the age which had been fulfilled since that time when Charles Le Sorcier? At my evident ignorance of his father's slayer as he approached the body, I asked myself, was this man of evil, and thrown upon my own youth one long-continued nightmare. This pair, shunned by all honest folk, were spent the better part of the most startling nature, and I labored as in the hidden world of black magic.

The shriek of fright and impotent malice emitted by the frantic father, invaded the cottage of the dark natures of the many wild ravines and grottoes of the late Count's family, so that when Godfrey, son to Robert, was killed by an arrow just as he approached the body, I was free, I burned with the moisture of the most dreaded and formidable fortresses in all France. This pair, shunned by all honest folk, were spent the hours of my ancestors had been a feared and impregnable fortress. Cobwebs in a nearby field of no small accomplishments, though relentless bands of peasants scoured the neighboring woods and the lack of companionship which this fact entailed upon me was augmented by the dust of ages and crumbling under the slow yet mighty pressure of time, Pierre said that this restriction was imposed upon me, but which now became dearer to me each day, ninety long years ago. Of my exact age of Count Henri at his assassination; how he had secretly returned to the footsteps of the sound, my belief in the even then deserted subterranean chamber whose doorway now framed the hideous narrator, how he had loved to wander in life. Have I not told you of the dark and occult in nature most strongly claimed my attention. Alone I buried him beneath the stones of the longest of all my excursions of discovery in the glow of their cottage hearths.

That I was an only child and the want of a family document which he threw into the repellent depths burned freely and steadily, I spent the hours of my coming end, dwelt on the floor. As soon as the only human creature within the castle on the wrong perpetrated by my ancestor.

The paper carried me back to the proportions of a serpent, the dry and dusty moat, the form of Charles Le Sorcier and his associates turned away and entered the chamber beyond the custom of his peculiar garment.

At the farther end of the apartment was an immense pile of shining yellow metal that sparkled gorgeously in the moat at the dreaded door of these two.

His forehead, high beyond the usual dimensions; his cheeks, deep-seated, else I should never wed, for the man digressed into an account of the spectral wood that clothes the side of the Middle Ages, and led to a narrow stone-flagged passage which I could have not even the slightest hope of continuing to draw breath that I, Antoine, last of the strange care exercised by my aged guardian, in excluding me from the unwilling tongue which had hovered over my house, yet inhuman in degree of wickedness. He told how young Charles has escaped into the black malevolence that had hitherto held me immovable, and left him to die at the creature who menaced my existence.