6
A Worthy Successor
In the year 2018, in France shaped by history and tradition, a king named Ombre Nomade ascended his throne. Majestic, proud, and unshakeable, he began to gather his followers around him and watched over the people who loved him so dearly with an unwavering presence, which he had also held just as dearly in his heart.
His fame grew steadily, albeit initially only in certain small circles. Not long after, I had the honor of meeting the king during a small audience. I was captivated by him and his reign. Thus, I began to painstakingly create my own throne within my four walls so that I could always have the king by my side.
For a long time, everything seemed to be in perfect order. I proved my loyalty to the king, often taking him with me on my travels, and I delighted in his aura, his untamed power, and his dominance over his rivals every single time. For he undoubtedly had that.
But one day, when I decided to refresh the king's elixir of life, I was struck unexpectedly right in the face. I quickly realized: The king had lost strength and intensity. Undoubtedly, he remained graceful, but the king had aged too quickly, and I sensed that our time together was now severely limited, which tightened my throat.
After a long search, I finally found an elixir from earlier times for my king, which brought him back to his feet and restored his former power. A great relief spread within me, albeit clouded by the thought that this life water would also run out and the king's life would come to an end.
One day, I once again entered the artistic palace. Secluded from the rest of the world, I observed wonderful figures with their elixirs day after day, read a lot, and tested a few. Some were graceful and meant a lot to me, some were almost entirely unexplored, and others had simply been forgotten over time.
In the main hall, I looked at the newcomers, and something immediately caught my eye. Mada, as the newcomer was called, actually had a similar elixir to my king. While this was not unusual, I held the creator in high regard. So, I mustered my courage and requested a meeting.
The first moments with Mada were tumultuous. His presence felt impetuous, almost exhausting, with a sharp, medicinal note that swept through the halls like a storm. Saffron and jasmine stood by his side, closely connected, and in the background, a leather note emerged, soaked in raspberry, that pushed forward relentlessly. It seemed as if Mada wanted to challenge the king with all his might.
But Ombre Nomade, the king himself, remained unshaken. With his head held high, majestic and calm, he faced Mada. He opened a bottle of his precious oud - an elixir of deepest density and perfect harmony - but his true arsenal was far greater. Saffron, which always wove like a golden thread through all the notes in his scent, intensified the sharpness of the oud, while jasmine unfolded subtle floral clearings between the dark, smoky notes. The leather of his royal fragrance felt soft yet unyielding, enveloped by warm woods and a fine raspberry sweetness that tamed even the wildest storms.
Mada pushed and stormed, his energy wild and impetuous, but Ombre Nomade responded with sovereign calm. Every step, every gesture, every breath unfolded the harmony of his fragrance notes: The oud organized the intensity, the saffron added fire, the leather provided stability, the raspberry sweetness, jasmine lightness, and the warm woods connected everything into an unshakeable tapestry of power and elegance.
Hour after hour, this sensual duel swayed. Mada displayed fire and strength, but Ombre Nomade maintained the upper hand. His scent was a whole arsenal, an orchestrated play of contrasts that harmoniously absorbed every attack from Mada. Even the initial sting of the medicinal accent became part of an orchestrated whole that obeyed the king.
As the heat of the battle subsided, Mada realized that he had not been overwhelmed but guided. The king had not imposed a defeat upon him but had tested him, showing him that true strength lies not only in pushing forward but in mastery, in wisdom, in the harmony of elements - and in the patience of the master.
Then the king raised his hand, not in anger, but in recognition, and spoke:
“You did not rise against me, Mada, but proved yourself at my side. Your fire is strength, your path a trial. As long as my time lasts, you will walk by my side. And when the day comes that my elixir runs dry and my realm demands a new ruler, I will hand over my throne to you without hesitation. For in you, I have not found an opponent, but my successor.”
Dear Mr. Al Qasim, you have truly accomplished a magnificent feat here. You have not dethroned my beloved king, ON, for which I am extremely grateful due to our years of relationship. Rather, you have created a worthy successor, a prince who will fit well on my shelf and will be used more often until he can one day claim the place of the king as his own.
My heartfelt thanks for this very successful and worthy work of art.
His fame grew steadily, albeit initially only in certain small circles. Not long after, I had the honor of meeting the king during a small audience. I was captivated by him and his reign. Thus, I began to painstakingly create my own throne within my four walls so that I could always have the king by my side.
For a long time, everything seemed to be in perfect order. I proved my loyalty to the king, often taking him with me on my travels, and I delighted in his aura, his untamed power, and his dominance over his rivals every single time. For he undoubtedly had that.
But one day, when I decided to refresh the king's elixir of life, I was struck unexpectedly right in the face. I quickly realized: The king had lost strength and intensity. Undoubtedly, he remained graceful, but the king had aged too quickly, and I sensed that our time together was now severely limited, which tightened my throat.
After a long search, I finally found an elixir from earlier times for my king, which brought him back to his feet and restored his former power. A great relief spread within me, albeit clouded by the thought that this life water would also run out and the king's life would come to an end.
One day, I once again entered the artistic palace. Secluded from the rest of the world, I observed wonderful figures with their elixirs day after day, read a lot, and tested a few. Some were graceful and meant a lot to me, some were almost entirely unexplored, and others had simply been forgotten over time.
In the main hall, I looked at the newcomers, and something immediately caught my eye. Mada, as the newcomer was called, actually had a similar elixir to my king. While this was not unusual, I held the creator in high regard. So, I mustered my courage and requested a meeting.
The first moments with Mada were tumultuous. His presence felt impetuous, almost exhausting, with a sharp, medicinal note that swept through the halls like a storm. Saffron and jasmine stood by his side, closely connected, and in the background, a leather note emerged, soaked in raspberry, that pushed forward relentlessly. It seemed as if Mada wanted to challenge the king with all his might.
But Ombre Nomade, the king himself, remained unshaken. With his head held high, majestic and calm, he faced Mada. He opened a bottle of his precious oud - an elixir of deepest density and perfect harmony - but his true arsenal was far greater. Saffron, which always wove like a golden thread through all the notes in his scent, intensified the sharpness of the oud, while jasmine unfolded subtle floral clearings between the dark, smoky notes. The leather of his royal fragrance felt soft yet unyielding, enveloped by warm woods and a fine raspberry sweetness that tamed even the wildest storms.
Mada pushed and stormed, his energy wild and impetuous, but Ombre Nomade responded with sovereign calm. Every step, every gesture, every breath unfolded the harmony of his fragrance notes: The oud organized the intensity, the saffron added fire, the leather provided stability, the raspberry sweetness, jasmine lightness, and the warm woods connected everything into an unshakeable tapestry of power and elegance.
Hour after hour, this sensual duel swayed. Mada displayed fire and strength, but Ombre Nomade maintained the upper hand. His scent was a whole arsenal, an orchestrated play of contrasts that harmoniously absorbed every attack from Mada. Even the initial sting of the medicinal accent became part of an orchestrated whole that obeyed the king.
As the heat of the battle subsided, Mada realized that he had not been overwhelmed but guided. The king had not imposed a defeat upon him but had tested him, showing him that true strength lies not only in pushing forward but in mastery, in wisdom, in the harmony of elements - and in the patience of the master.
Then the king raised his hand, not in anger, but in recognition, and spoke:
“You did not rise against me, Mada, but proved yourself at my side. Your fire is strength, your path a trial. As long as my time lasts, you will walk by my side. And when the day comes that my elixir runs dry and my realm demands a new ruler, I will hand over my throne to you without hesitation. For in you, I have not found an opponent, but my successor.”
Dear Mr. Al Qasim, you have truly accomplished a magnificent feat here. You have not dethroned my beloved king, ON, for which I am extremely grateful due to our years of relationship. Rather, you have created a worthy successor, a prince who will fit well on my shelf and will be used more often until he can one day claim the place of the king as his own.
My heartfelt thanks for this very successful and worthy work of art.
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