June 26, 2025 • 37 mins
What if you could see all the lives you never lived? The peaceful, comfortable existences where you played it safe and chose certainty over calling? Would you still recognize yourself in those alternate realities, or would you see a stranger wearing your face?
In this eighth episode of The Relicontu, we journey beneath the Vatican's ancient stones where the hunter and Kel discover the most psychologically complex relic yet: The Book of Forgotten Futures. Unlike previous artifacts that threatened physical harm, this one attacks the very foundation of identity and purpose—revealing the paths not taken and the comfortable prisons we might have built for ourselves.
When the hunter's blood touches the blank pages, he witnesses versions of himself that never answered the call: a teacher in a small village, a man with a family fixing boats by the coast, lives without danger but also without meaning. "It was paradise without fire," he realizes, "and I was happy. But I was asleep." This recognition becomes his most powerful weapon against the enigmatic Invisible King, whose presence grows stronger as our protagonists approach the truth.
The confrontation between the hunter and the three mysterious kings—the Buried King, Shadow King, and Invisible King—elevates the stakes to cosmic proportions. As the Council of Kings assembles in the episode's final moments, we realize that "the war was no longer coming, it had begun."
This episode leaves us with profound questions that reach beyond fantasy into our everyday choices: What forgotten futures are you clinging to? Where in your life are you living by potential instead of action? What becomes possible the moment you stop grieving who you were and start becoming who you were meant to be?
"True mastery is found in the details. The way you handle the little things defines the way you handle everything."
Mark as Played
Transcript
Episode Transcript
Available transcripts are automatically generated. Complete accuracy is not guaranteed.
Speaker 1 (00:00):
Hello and welcome to the Gentleman's Journey podcast.
My name is Anthony, your host,and today we are in episode
eight of the Relicontu.
We are almost finished, guys.
We're getting towards the endhere, so let's go ahead and jump
(00:22):
in to the cold open.
Somewhere outside of time, aplace never met.
For mortals, there exists achamber, not of stone but of
memory, a place untouched byfire or wind, Deep within the
folds.
Between moments, it smells ofancient parchment, broken oaths
(00:44):
and something colder thanbetrayal.
Three thrones stand in atriangle, each shaped from
different truths.
The buried king arrives first.
His presence is quiet but wrapsthe air with sorrow.
Draped in stone-colored robes,his crown is jagged, half-forged
(01:04):
, half-forgotten.
Dust clings to him likemourning.
He says nothing but sitswaiting.
Next, the Shadow King.
He does not walk.
He unfolds From the darkness atthe chamber's edge.
He takes form, and with himcomes a crawling cold, like
(01:28):
doubt made flesh.
His throne is made of failedchoices and whispered lies.
He doesn't sit, not yet.
Instead, he looks towards thethird throne, empty, cracked.
You summoned him?
The Shadow King asks withoutturning.
The Buried King nods he'salready here, and then he is.
(01:54):
The air implodes and a figureemerges where the cracks in
reality form a doorway.
The Invisible King no footsteps, no breath.
The invisible king no footsteps, no breath.
He's not dressed in royal garb,he wears the absence of
presence, cloaked in unravelingsilk face, unreadable even in
direct light.
He is what hides behind honesty, the unseen will, behind
(02:18):
hesitation.
He doesn't walk to his throne,he appears in it as if he had
always been there.
Your theatrics are exhausting,he says, voice like silk dragged
across broken glass.
The Shadow King narrows hisgauge and your ambition has
(02:40):
become dangerous.
The Invisible King smiles, notkind, not cruel, just inevitable
.
The buried king leans forward,elbows on stone knees.
You started touching thethreads, pushing him too soon.
He was never yours to protect.
The invisible king replies hewas always mine.
(03:00):
You simply sold what waspromised.
The chamber groans, not fromsound but from consequence.
Shadow King steps forward.
He knows you now.
He's remembering.
We showed him, you handed him acompass and let him believe it
(03:23):
made him free.
You do not get to unmake him,growls the Shadow King.
The Invisible King rises, nowno longer passive, his presence
expands, swallowing the edges ofthe chamber in smoke.
I don't have to unmake him, hewhispers.
I only have to wait.
(03:45):
The Buried King stands.
We are warning you.
No, says the invisible king.
You are fearing me, andrightfully so.
He steps forward Just one step.
The other king's brace.
I've seen what's coming.
She is the key and you let herwander too close to the truth.
(04:08):
He turns cloak, unraveling thestrands of black mist.
You think this ends with me?
No, she is next.
He vanishes.
Only the throne remainssmoldering with silence.
The buried king looks at theShadow King.
We prepare him now.
(04:29):
The Shadow King says no.
The Buried King corrects voicesolemn.
We remind him of who he trulyis.
The chamber fades and the worldbegins to stir.
The Vatican stood silent underthe weight of centuries.
(04:50):
Its ancient stones hummed withsecrets too sacred or too
dangerous to ever be spoken.
Aloud Rain slicked thecobblestones as thunder murmured
over the Rome skyline and belowthe marbled spires and guarded
chambers, the hunter descendeddeeper into the catacombs.
Each step was a step back intime.
Kel walked beside him, hervoice quiet but unwavering.
(05:14):
You've been here before,haven't you?
He didn't answer immediately.
His eyes scanned the four-conewalls, fingers brushing over
cracks in the limestone, like hewas remembering a language he
once known.
Not this part, he said finally,but I've dreamt of it.
(05:36):
The air grew colder as theyturned in a narrow corridor no
wider than a stretch of a man'sarm, the flickering torchlight
cast their shadows long andjagged, like memories trying to
catch up.
At the end of the hallway stoodan unmarked door, iron-bound
and etched with a sigil.
Neither of them recognized.
It opened before they couldtouch it.
(06:00):
Inside was a chamber unlike theothers, circular, domed in line
with statues of facelessscribes, each holding an open
book, and in the center, upon apedestal of dark marble, sat a
single tone thick, ancient andblank.
No title, no author, no history.
(06:24):
It says the of forgottenfutures.
The hunter stepped forward andas he did, the room responded.
The torches dimmed and a faintwhisper began to rise, not from
outside but from within thestone itself.
Kel didn't follow him this time.
(06:45):
She stayed near to thethreshold, arms folded, eyes
watching everything.
She knew what this was, not therelic itself, but what it would
ask of him.
He reached for it.
Nothing happened, not at first,but the moment his fingers
(07:05):
brushed the leather glove, atiny prick surged through his
palm sharp and immediate blood.
Just a drop, just enough.
The pages turned themselves, andthen it began to write, not in
ink but in light.
He began to write, not in ink,but in light, golden and
(07:28):
flickering like a candle flame.
Words formed in sentences,sentences into memories and
memories into visions.
He saw a version of himself, aman who'd never taken the path,
who stayed hidden, who hadchosen comfort over the calling,
a quiet life, a small apartment, a desk job.
He saw himself laugh, but itwas hollow.
(07:51):
He saw his friends.
He never met children, he neverhad a version of life that had
all the stability and none ofthe fire.
Kale stepped closer now.
Her voice was almost a whisper.
What does it show?
He didn't look at her.
What would have happened if Inever answered the call?
(08:14):
The book kept going A grave.
He didn't recognize a womancrying, a legacy forgotten, a
name erased.
Kel placed her hand on his back, grounding him.
That's not your story.
He nodded slowly Not anymore.
Then, as suddenly as it began,the book stopped.
(08:36):
The pages flipped to the black,blank once again, waiting not
for visions of what might havebeen, but for what would be
chosen next.
Kel looked up at him.
So what did we write?
And for the first time in along time, the hunter smiled
(09:01):
Everything, everything.
The door cracked open with areluctant groan, as if even it
sensed the weight of what laybeyond, the hunter stepped
through in a long-forgottencorridor beneath the Vatican, a
narrow curved hallway lined withweathered murals depicting
saints and sinners alike, theirfaces wrapped with time and
(09:23):
moisture.
Kale followed closely, herbreath hitching as she took in
the oppressive silence, the airthick with dust and old incense.
The candlelight danced acrossher cheekbones, casting
flickering shadows that made herlook both ethereal and haunted.
(09:44):
They walked in silence, savefor the echo of the boots
against the ancient stone.
The deeper they ventured, themore time itself seemed to slow.
It was as if the world abovehad let go of them completely
and in its place, this ancientsanctum now held them in
(10:05):
suspension, waiting judgment.
At the end of the corridor wasa door unlike the others, dark
wood, scorched around the edgesand etched with a symbol.
Neither of them recognized aclosed eye, weeping ink.
The hunter placed his palmagainst it and, to his surprise,
the door yielded withoutresistance.
(10:28):
Inside was a chamber shaped likea perfect circle, stone shelves
lined the walls, filled withscrolls, cracked tablets and
brittle books bound in humanleather.
But at the center of the room,on a pedestal of bone and silver
, sat a single book.
Its cover bare, its pages, purewhite, the Book of Forgotten
(10:53):
Futures.
Kale took a sharp step forward,then stopped herself.
It's empty, she whispered.
He approached, drawn, as ifsomething in the book had been
waiting for him alone.
As he reached for it, the bookpulsed just once and the room
seemed to breathe.
A sudden warmth filled thespace and then candlelight
(11:16):
dimmed, as if bracing forsomething holy or unholy.
His fingers grazed the coverand a jolt passed through his
hand.
He winced, pulling back justenough to see a thin line of
blood well up from the fresh cutacross his palm.
The moment the blood touched thepage, ink began to blossom in
(11:38):
violent swirls.
Words appeared then vanished,only to reappear again,
rewriting themselves intocoherent sentences, building
paragraphs from pain.
Kel leaned in and he read aloud, voice trembling In this future
.
You stayed home, you neverchased the compass, you never
lied to yourself and you neverfound the truth.
(12:00):
You lived a quiet life, youmarried again, you had a son.
You died forgotten.
Each word was a dagger, clean,precise and deeply buried.
The book continued revealingmoments.
He never lived, but could havelives he could have had if he'd
chosen differently.
One page showed him as ateacher in a small village,
(12:22):
another as a soldier who nevercame back, another still as a
broken man, drunk on regret,staring in a mirror and seeing
nothing.
Kel placed a hand on hisshoulder.
These aren't memories, she saidsoftly, they're prisons.
He turned to her and in hiseyes was something not seen
(12:45):
before Grief, not just for whathe lost, but what he never had
been brave enough to want.
I've could have lived in peace,he whispered.
Yes, you've could have livedasleep, she countered.
He looked back at the book.
(13:06):
The pages were still turning,revealing alternate versions of
him, some noble, some terrifyingA king in one, a tyrant in
another, a beggar, a monk, a manwho never met her, and one
version that chilled him themost, a version of him that
never stopped, who chased powerso far.
(13:29):
He became lost and completelylost himself in it.
That was the final straw.
He slammed the bookshot.
No more, he said.
The pedestal beneath it crackedand a gust of air swept through
the room.
From the shadows, the buriedking emerged, cloaked in ash and
silence.
Opposite of him, the ShadowKing materialized in a shimmer
(13:52):
of black mist.
Kael took a step back.
You've seen what could havebeen said.
The Buried King, his voice,deep and brittle like old earth.
And you closed it.
The hunter nodded his voice low, because I've finally chosen
what will be.
The shadow king approached.
(14:14):
Then prepare yourself.
The invisible king has seen ittoo, and he does not take kindly
to closed books.
Before the hunter could speak,the candlelight was extinguished
.
The chamber went black.
A voice slithered into the dark.
Not loud, not soft, justpresent.
You shut the future.
(14:35):
Now I rewrite the present.
The air grew thick and cold.
Kel clutched the hunter's arm.
Don't let him in, she whispered.
But it was too late.
The Invisible King had foundhis way in and now nothing would
remain untouched.
The snow softened until quitehush around them.
(14:59):
As they crossed into the shadowof the abandoned chapel near the
outskirts of Rome, the windcarried centuries of silence
through broken stained glasspainting ghostly patterns across
the cracked marble floor.
It was here, beneath the finallight of dust, that Kale stopped
walking.
Her hand trembled slightly,found his wrist.
(15:19):
We're close, she whispered.
It's not just a relic, this one, it's something else.
He looked at her, studied thewearer in her voice.
She hadn't been the same sincethe confrontation with the kings
, neither had he.
That moment had burrowed intohim and now every second felt
(15:39):
like it echoed with some hiddenclockwork counting down.
The invisible king was moving.
They both felt it.
And whatever this book was, itwasn't just a tool, it was bait.
They entered the.
A tool, it was bait.
They entered the chapel.
The altar was gone.
In its place stood a pedestalof bone, white stone carved like
(16:00):
an open palm.
On it lay a book bound inleather so dark it seemed to
drink in the light.
No title, no lock, just waiting.
Kale hesitated and for thefirst time, her confidence
cracked.
I think it knows he steppedforward anyways.
(16:22):
Well, so do I.
As his fingers hovered over thecover, the shadows deepened, a
voice not not heard but feltrippled through the room.
It wasn't words, it waspossibility, pain, regret and a
choice.
He opened the book Blank pages,dozens of them, maybe hundreds.
(16:43):
But then a single drop of bloodslipped from his thumb onto the
parchment.
The ink began to write, not hisstory.
What could have been Married?
Safe, quiet, a job he hated butkept?
No kale, no relics, no pain, alife where he never searched
(17:04):
because he was never lost.
He felt himself pulled towardthe page like gravity made of
nostalgia.
His knees buckled, held rush tohim, gripping his collar,
shouting his name.
You're not that man anymore.
She screamed Don't let itseduce you.
But he was seeing everythinghis brother alive, his wife
(17:26):
still by his side, his father,proud Tears streamed down his
face as he whispered.
Why does it feel so real?
Cal leaned close because a partof you still wants to hide.
In that moment he knew the relicwas not showing him a lie.
He was showing him what hislife would have been if he had
(17:49):
never chased the truth.
He stood, closed the book andsaid the words that would burn
into the next chapter of hisstory I am not potential, I am
decision.
The book burst into flame, butthe fire didn't burn.
It branded something onto himinstead, not a mark on his skin,
(18:11):
but a mark in his will.
He turned to Kale.
I remember who I could havebeen and I choose who I will
become.
From the raspers above,something unseen, stirred,
watching, waiting.
The Invisible King has seen ittoo and for the first time he
felt afraid.
(18:31):
The rain had stopped, but thesky wept gray above them.
They walked in silence alongthe stone path that wound
between the old crypts, theVatican, forgotten corridors.
Now, far behind them, the cityof Rome whispered below golden
lights, flickering like memoriesin the distance.
The undercarried the book inhis hands like it might bite him
(18:53):
.
His thumb was still stainedwith blood.
Kale walked beside him.
Her steps were slow, unsure,like she was still trying to
piece something together.
Something about the relic.
But not about the relic.
But not about the relic, shesaid to herself about him.
(19:17):
You haven't said much, shefinally said.
He didn't answer right away.
He was watching the shadowsflicker on the pavement,
watching for something that feltlike it was watching him.
I saw what I could have been,he murmured.
Kel looked at him.
What did it show you?
(19:37):
He stopped walking.
The city buzzed around themlike a different universe.
I saw a man with a family, aquiet life, fixing boats by the
coast.
He never left, he never hunted,never saw you.
(19:57):
Kel breathed, caught, but shehad it.
And was he happy?
She asked.
Thunder looked her dead in theeyes.
No, she nodded once, like sheknew the answer before she asked
he was safe.
(20:19):
Thunder continued, but therewas this emptiness in his eyes
like he was pretending not tonotice how much of himself he'd
buried.
Kel looked away.
You didn't stay safe.
No, and maybe I'll die becauseof that, he said softly now, but
at least I'll die with my eyesopen and there was a long
silence between them.
She sat on the stone edge of thehalf-cracked home.
(20:41):
Do you ever wonder what I gaveup?
He turned towards her, sure,staring at the sky, not meeting
his gaze.
I used to be someone before allthis.
Before them, the shadow andburied kings.
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She nodded.
They took everything from meand gave me back something worse
Truth.
The hunter sat beside her.
That's what it does.
Every relic, every choice, itpeels another layer off.
Cal looked down at the book.
(21:22):
And now we're almost at the end.
No, the hunter said, we're justgetting close to the part that
matters.
As they sat in silence, a chillran through the end.
No, the hunter said, we're justgetting close to the part that
matters.
As they sat in silence, a chillran through the wind, a
familiar pressure, a voice, deepand slick as oil, echoed behind
them.
So this is the path you choose.
(21:45):
They both turned there.
Not fully visible, butistakablypresent was the Invisible King.
Only the shimmer of his outline, like heat waves on a desert
road, gave shape to his figure.
His voice did the rest.
You could have had peace, hesaid to the hunter, and I could
(22:06):
have been a ghost in my own life.
The hunter snapped you thinkthis ends with victory?
The king hissed.
You think this story you'rewriting ends with freedom?
Kael stood slowly, her handsubtly reaching for the dagger
in her hip.
The invisible kings formed,pulsed, wrapping the air around
(22:28):
them.
You've broken the seals, foundthe relics, but one thing you
still don't understand.
Healing closer, or rather thespace around them, bent towards
him.
You are not writing the future.
I am the book in the hunter'shand, shuddered pages fluttering
(22:50):
violently.
Kael stepped forward.
You're not a god.
I don't need to be the kingmurmured.
I just need you to believe thatI am.
Suddenly, a sharp wind cutacross the cemetery, followed by
(23:10):
two presents materializing inshadow and light.
The shadow and buried kingstood behind the hunter.
The air crackled.
You do not belong here.
The buried king growled.
I never left.
The invisible king replied.
You just stopped looking.
We warned you.
The shadow king said to himthis is not your time.
(23:33):
Said to him this is not yourtime.
I make time mine.
The invisible king roared, buthe did not strike, not yet,
because something else wasshifting.
Kale's eyes widened.
The book was glowing.
The pages weren't writing whatcould have been anymore.
They were writing what wasbecoming In the blood, red ink,
(23:55):
a single phrase formed at thecenter of the page the one who
rewrites the end is the one whobleeds for it.
The rain returned with avengeance.
Tall windows framed the swollensky over Venice, their pain
shivering as thunder crackedacross the water.
The hunter sat in the ruinedchapel Kael had found, and
(24:16):
crumbling walls of overgrownvines wrapped the place in quiet
despair.
Candles lined the broken altar,flickering with unease, as if
they too knew the weight of whatwas coming.
He didn't speak.
He hadn't.
Since they arrived, kael stoodacross from him, her back
straight but her eyes soft.
She had carried him throughthis far, through Rome, through
(24:41):
the descent into the Vaticanarchives, through the book that
bled futures not lived.
She knew what was stirringbehind his silence.
You've seen it, haven't you?
She asked quietly, quietly,what would have happened if you
stayed small?
He nodded slowly.
The book had not shown himmonsters.
It showed him peace, a modestlife, a woman, a son, a desk by
(25:06):
a window overlooking quiet trees.
It showed him what the worldwould have given him if he asked
for nothing more than comfort.
It was beautiful, he saidfinally and empty.
Kale tipped her head.
Why empty?
Because they knew it wasn'tmine, it was borrowed space.
(25:26):
It was safe.
It was soft, but not, not true.
He looked up at her and in hisface was a storm far louder than
one outside.
That life had no weight to it,no sacrifice, no cost.
It was paradise without fire,and I was happy.
(25:46):
But I was asleep.
Kel moved closer, her handresting lightly on his.
Then, what now?
He exhaled sharply, as if thequestion heard itself.
Now I bleed and I write my ownpages.
A silence passed.
(26:07):
Then Kale turned her head justslightly, her eyes narrowed
Something's coming.
The doors of the chapel groan asthe presence entered.
Not footsteps, not movement,just pressure, cold, heavy, like
the memory of guilt returningto a room it once lived in.
And then they saw him, theinvisible king, uninformed and a
(26:30):
feeling, a distortion of light.
The candles bent towards hispresence, shadows moved where
there should have been none andin the air hung something
unspeakable, a suggestion ofendings.
Cal rose instantly, positioninghimself in front of the hunter.
You don't belong here, shegrowled.
(26:52):
The voice that responded waslike wind through bone.
I belong wherever regret lives.
Thunder stood.
What do you want To remind you?
The Invisible King whispered,that you are not a god, you are
not immune to your past.
(27:13):
You are not beyond the weightof your choices you didn't make.
He stepped closer.
Kael's knife was ready in herhand.
I saw what you were shown.
The king hissed and you darewalk away from that, From peace,
I do.
Thantra said firmly, becausepeace isn't what I'm after.
(27:34):
Purpose is the Invisible.
King laughed Then.
Bleed, little man.
Bleed for every word you writein that book.
And then he vanished.
Carol turned to him,breath-catching.
Are you ready for this?
He looked at her jaw.
(27:54):
Are you ready for this?
He looked at her jaw.
He said something quiet to herI was born for this.
Outside, the storm broke into afull roar and somewhere beneath
the chapel floor, the bookwaited, its pages still wet with
destiny, and it was stillunwritten floor.
(28:15):
The book waited, its pagesstill wet with destiny and of
stolen written.
The candlelight flickeredagainst the stone walls of the
underground chamber, castinglong shadows across the ancient
Vatican vault, the understud atthe center of it all.
Blood now dried at the edge ofthe book's spine, the words no
longer appearing.
Kale hovered at the edge of theroom, arms crossed, her face,
(28:37):
unreadable.
It stopped writing, he saidsoftly, almost to himself.
She didn't respond at first.
Instead, she stepped forwardher boots echoing in silence.
Because it's waiting on you,she said softly.
(28:57):
He turned towards her, stillcaught in the trance of what he
had just seen.
What I could have been if Iplayed it safe, the life I left
behind, the ones I lost, it wasall there.
It felt real.
Kel nodded.
That's the trap of it.
The book doesn't lie, but itdoesn't tell the truth either.
(29:19):
Only you can do that.
He looked down at the bookagain.
The pages were blank now, andyet they seemed heavier somehow,
as if they bore the weight ofevery unchosen path.
As if they bore the weight ofevery unchosen path.
Slowly, revelantly, he closedthe cover.
The sound echoed like a finalbreath.
(29:40):
He turned and walked towardsKale.
Have you ever thought about it?
He asked who you could havebeen.
She looked him in the eyes andfor the first time, he saw
something fragile behind herstrength.
Every day, their silence heldelectric and honest.
(30:04):
Then came the rumble.
The room trembled.
A low hum filled the chamber,vibrating through the stone
floor.
The relic pulsed faintly.
The hunter placed a hand overit, instinctively.
What now?
Kale?
Whispered.
The relic spun, not wildly likebefore, but methodically,
(30:25):
turning with direction like itknew.
The hunter followed its motion.
We're being summoned.
Kale arched an eyebrow by what?
The air split.
Reality buckled inward like acurtain pulled open by unseen
hands.
The flame in the room stilledas the corridor formed not of
(30:46):
space but memory.
They were being pulled not to aplace but to a convergence.
We have to go, he said.
Kael hesitated.
And if it's a trap, he smiled,tired but sure, then we spring
it together.
They stepped through.
They emerged into a great hall,a void suspended in time.
(31:11):
Stone walls carved with symbolsthat moved like breath.
Then temperature was impossibleto gauge.
Twelve thrones, eleven filled.
The kings were waiting.
The shadow king stood at thecenter.
He lowered his hood just enoughto reveal a jawline carved of
shadow Beside him.
The buried king leaned on hisstaff, the sand at his feet,
(31:36):
never still.
The other kings murmured as thehunter and kaleael approached,
but one chair, one throneremained, shrouded in pure,
undetectable distortion thethrone of the invisible king.
The shadow king raised a hand,silencing the room.
You've brought the relics andnow you read the book.
The hunter nodded, and now youread the book.
The hunter nodded I know who Iwas.
(31:56):
I know I could have been, but Ichose who I am, a pulse echoed
across the room.
The thrones responded in kind,each flickering with recognition
, but then the air shifted.
The unseen throne pulsedviolently and then, for the
first time, a voice echoed fromthe throne itself.
You were never meant to finishthis path.
(32:18):
Kael stepped forward, and yethere we are.
The distortion shimmered, itspresence wrapping the space
around it.
The Shadow King's voicedeepened.
He grows bolder, the very kingadded, and closer, the hunter
(32:38):
turned towards the king's.
Then let's end this.
From the blank pages of thebook still clutched in his hand,
a single word had burned itselfinto the paper.
Now he looked at Kale.
She nodded.
The Council of Kings stoodtogether for the first time.
The war was no longer coming,it had begun.
(33:02):
I know, guys, that was acliffhanger, but just stay tuned
for the next episode becauseit's going to get a little crazy
.
So you know, you start torealize something dangerous when
you stare long enough to theblank pages of your life that
the past cannot be rewritten,but the future can, and that's
(33:28):
where you always have lived,right In the futures that never
came.
We used to call it potential,but now you know the truth.
Potential is a lie we tellourselves when we're too scared
to become something actuallyright.
There's a version of you thatnever settled, that would have
built just enough to beapplauded but not enough to be
(33:51):
known.
Right, that would have stayedsaved, just enough to be praised
, but not sovereign.
You saw his name in the bookthe Forgotten Future.
It wasn't blank because therewas nothing there.
It was blank because you werenever supposed to go that way.
You understand now.
(34:12):
The blood didn't unlock whatcould have been.
It revealed what, what it wouldhave killed you, not with a
weapon, but with comfort, withease, with, with applause, with
that slow erosion.
And yet you're still breathingbecause that man died.
And in this place standssomeone else, someone who never,
(34:33):
I should say someone who's notreading futures anymore.
You know he's writing them withfire, with conviction, with
scars of someone who's alreadydied once.
So the question no longer iswhat could you have been?
The real question is is whatare you about to become?
So let's go ahead with ourreflections.
(34:55):
Number one what's the forgottenfuture you keep clinging to and
what is it costing you to keepit alive?
I know that's a big question,but you got to answer it.
Number two where in your lifeare you still living by
potential instead of action?
(35:17):
Number three what is the truthyour blood would write if it
touched the page?
That's a big one.
Number four how would you liveif you believe nothing was
written yet?
How would you live if youbelieve nothing was written yet?
And number five what becomespossible the moment you stop
(35:44):
grieving the man you were andstart becoming the one you were
meant to be?
These are big ones.
These are huge questions, butI'm telling you, once you get
the answer to this, your life isgoing to change, I promise so.
This was an action-packedepisode and, man, it's just.
I God, I can't wait for you tolisten to 9 and 10.
(36:08):
It's going to be absolutelyincredible.
So I'm going to say this guys,I just want to thank you so, so,
so, very much for listeningtoday.
I can't even tell you how muchit means to me that you have
taken 36 minutes right now ofyour time to listen to me talk
and share these stories with you.
Thank you so much for listening.
(36:30):
Now, if you want to support theshow, there's a great way to do
it.
Share those with your friends,like this, leave a review.
That would be great too.
It helps out the show, but ifyou want to get a hold of me,
there's three ways you can dothat too.
First way is going to be in thedescription here.
It's going to say let's Chat.
You click on that and you and Ican have a conversation about
(36:54):
this episode or this series.
Actually, we just crossed 250episodes, which is crazy, so we
can talk about that or any ofthe other episodes that are out
there.
Okay, there's 250 now, which isnuts.
Second one is gonna be throughmy email.
My email isanthonyatgentsjourneycom, so
please feel free to reach out tome there.
And, last but not least, youcan go to my Instagram page.
My Instagram is my gentsjourney, so please feel free to
(37:18):
reach out to me there too.
Okay, so, guys, I'm so excitedabout these.
Last two episodes are going toget crazy, so hold on to your
hats and you better buckle up,all right?
So, guys, thank you so much forlistening in today and, as
always, remember this you createyour reality.
(37:39):
Take care.
Hello and welcome to the Gentleman's Journey podcast.
My name is Anthony, your host,and today we are in episode
eight of the Relicontu.
We are almost finished, guys.
We're getting towards the endhere, so let's go ahead and jump
(00:22):
in to the cold open.
Somewhere outside of time, aplace never met.
For mortals, there exists achamber, not of stone but of
memory, a place untouched byfire or wind, Deep within the
folds.
Between moments, it smells ofancient parchment, broken oaths
(00:44):
and something colder thanbetrayal.
Three thrones stand in atriangle, each shaped from
different truths.
The buried king arrives first.
His presence is quiet but wrapsthe air with sorrow.
Draped in stone-colored robes,his crown is jagged, half-forged
(01:04):
, half-forgotten.
Dust clings to him likemourning.
He says nothing but sitswaiting.
Next, the Shadow King.
He does not walk.
He unfolds From the darkness atthe chamber's edge.
He takes form, and with himcomes a crawling cold, like
(01:28):
doubt made flesh.
His throne is made of failedchoices and whispered lies.
He doesn't sit, not yet.
Instead, he looks towards thethird throne, empty, cracked.
You summoned him?
The Shadow King asks withoutturning.
The Buried King nods he'salready here, and then he is.
(01:54):
The air implodes and a figureemerges where the cracks in
reality form a doorway.
The Invisible King no footsteps, no breath.
The invisible king no footsteps, no breath.
He's not dressed in royal garb,he wears the absence of
presence, cloaked in unravelingsilk face, unreadable even in
direct light.
He is what hides behind honesty, the unseen will, behind
(02:18):
hesitation.
He doesn't walk to his throne,he appears in it as if he had
always been there.
Your theatrics are exhausting,he says, voice like silk dragged
across broken glass.
The Shadow King narrows hisgauge and your ambition has
(02:40):
become dangerous.
The Invisible King smiles, notkind, not cruel, just inevitable
.
The buried king leans forward,elbows on stone knees.
You started touching thethreads, pushing him too soon.
He was never yours to protect.
The invisible king replies hewas always mine.
(03:00):
You simply sold what waspromised.
The chamber groans, not fromsound but from consequence.
Shadow King steps forward.
He knows you now.
He's remembering.
We showed him, you handed him acompass and let him believe it
(03:23):
made him free.
You do not get to unmake him,growls the Shadow King.
The Invisible King rises, nowno longer passive, his presence
expands, swallowing the edges ofthe chamber in smoke.
I don't have to unmake him, hewhispers.
I only have to wait.
(03:45):
The Buried King stands.
We are warning you.
No, says the invisible king.
You are fearing me, andrightfully so.
He steps forward Just one step.
The other king's brace.
I've seen what's coming.
She is the key and you let herwander too close to the truth.
(04:08):
He turns cloak, unraveling thestrands of black mist.
You think this ends with me?
No, she is next.
He vanishes.
Only the throne remainssmoldering with silence.
The buried king looks at theShadow King.
We prepare him now.
(04:29):
The Shadow King says no.
The Buried King corrects voicesolemn.
We remind him of who he trulyis.
The chamber fades and the worldbegins to stir.
The Vatican stood silent underthe weight of centuries.
(04:50):
Its ancient stones hummed withsecrets too sacred or too
dangerous to ever be spoken.
Aloud Rain slicked thecobblestones as thunder murmured
over the Rome skyline and belowthe marbled spires and guarded
chambers, the hunter descendeddeeper into the catacombs.
Each step was a step back intime.
Kel walked beside him, hervoice quiet but unwavering.
(05:14):
You've been here before,haven't you?
He didn't answer immediately.
His eyes scanned the four-conewalls, fingers brushing over
cracks in the limestone, like hewas remembering a language he
once known.
Not this part, he said finally,but I've dreamt of it.
(05:36):
The air grew colder as theyturned in a narrow corridor no
wider than a stretch of a man'sarm, the flickering torchlight
cast their shadows long andjagged, like memories trying to
catch up.
At the end of the hallway stoodan unmarked door, iron-bound
and etched with a sigil.
Neither of them recognized.
It opened before they couldtouch it.
(06:00):
Inside was a chamber unlike theothers, circular, domed in line
with statues of facelessscribes, each holding an open
book, and in the center, upon apedestal of dark marble, sat a
single tone thick, ancient andblank.
No title, no author, no history.
(06:24):
It says the of forgottenfutures.
The hunter stepped forward andas he did, the room responded.
The torches dimmed and a faintwhisper began to rise, not from
outside but from within thestone itself.
Kel didn't follow him this time.
(06:45):
She stayed near to thethreshold, arms folded, eyes
watching everything.
She knew what this was, not therelic itself, but what it would
ask of him.
He reached for it.
Nothing happened, not at first,but the moment his fingers
(07:05):
brushed the leather glove, atiny prick surged through his
palm sharp and immediate blood.
Just a drop, just enough.
The pages turned themselves, andthen it began to write, not in
ink but in light.
He began to write, not in ink,but in light, golden and
(07:28):
flickering like a candle flame.
Words formed in sentences,sentences into memories and
memories into visions.
He saw a version of himself, aman who'd never taken the path,
who stayed hidden, who hadchosen comfort over the calling,
a quiet life, a small apartment, a desk job.
He saw himself laugh, but itwas hollow.
(07:51):
He saw his friends.
He never met children, he neverhad a version of life that had
all the stability and none ofthe fire.
Kale stepped closer now.
Her voice was almost a whisper.
What does it show?
He didn't look at her.
What would have happened if Inever answered the call?
(08:14):
The book kept going A grave.
He didn't recognize a womancrying, a legacy forgotten, a
name erased.
Kel placed her hand on his back, grounding him.
That's not your story.
He nodded slowly Not anymore.
Then, as suddenly as it began,the book stopped.
(08:36):
The pages flipped to the black,blank once again, waiting not
for visions of what might havebeen, but for what would be
chosen next.
Kel looked up at him.
So what did we write?
And for the first time in along time, the hunter smiled
(09:01):
Everything, everything.
The door cracked open with areluctant groan, as if even it
sensed the weight of what laybeyond, the hunter stepped
through in a long-forgottencorridor beneath the Vatican, a
narrow curved hallway lined withweathered murals depicting
saints and sinners alike, theirfaces wrapped with time and
(09:23):
moisture.
Kale followed closely, herbreath hitching as she took in
the oppressive silence, the airthick with dust and old incense.
The candlelight danced acrossher cheekbones, casting
flickering shadows that made herlook both ethereal and haunted.
(09:44):
They walked in silence, savefor the echo of the boots
against the ancient stone.
The deeper they ventured, themore time itself seemed to slow.
It was as if the world abovehad let go of them completely
and in its place, this ancientsanctum now held them in
(10:05):
suspension, waiting judgment.
At the end of the corridor wasa door unlike the others, dark
wood, scorched around the edgesand etched with a symbol.
Neither of them recognized aclosed eye, weeping ink.
The hunter placed his palmagainst it and, to his surprise,
the door yielded withoutresistance.
(10:28):
Inside was a chamber shaped likea perfect circle, stone shelves
lined the walls, filled withscrolls, cracked tablets and
brittle books bound in humanleather.
But at the center of the room,on a pedestal of bone and silver
, sat a single book.
Its cover bare, its pages, purewhite, the Book of Forgotten
(10:53):
Futures.
Kale took a sharp step forward,then stopped herself.
It's empty, she whispered.
He approached, drawn, as ifsomething in the book had been
waiting for him alone.
As he reached for it, the bookpulsed just once and the room
seemed to breathe.
A sudden warmth filled thespace and then candlelight
(11:16):
dimmed, as if bracing forsomething holy or unholy.
His fingers grazed the coverand a jolt passed through his
hand.
He winced, pulling back justenough to see a thin line of
blood well up from the fresh cutacross his palm.
The moment the blood touched thepage, ink began to blossom in
(11:38):
violent swirls.
Words appeared then vanished,only to reappear again,
rewriting themselves intocoherent sentences, building
paragraphs from pain.
Kel leaned in and he read aloud, voice trembling In this future
.
You stayed home, you neverchased the compass, you never
lied to yourself and you neverfound the truth.
(12:00):
You lived a quiet life, youmarried again, you had a son.
You died forgotten.
Each word was a dagger, clean,precise and deeply buried.
The book continued revealingmoments.
He never lived, but could havelives he could have had if he'd
chosen differently.
One page showed him as ateacher in a small village,
(12:22):
another as a soldier who nevercame back, another still as a
broken man, drunk on regret,staring in a mirror and seeing
nothing.
Kel placed a hand on hisshoulder.
These aren't memories, she saidsoftly, they're prisons.
He turned to her and in hiseyes was something not seen
(12:45):
before Grief, not just for whathe lost, but what he never had
been brave enough to want.
I've could have lived in peace,he whispered.
Yes, you've could have livedasleep, she countered.
He looked back at the book.
(13:06):
The pages were still turning,revealing alternate versions of
him, some noble, some terrifyingA king in one, a tyrant in
another, a beggar, a monk, a manwho never met her, and one
version that chilled him themost, a version of him that
never stopped, who chased powerso far.
(13:29):
He became lost and completelylost himself in it.
That was the final straw.
He slammed the bookshot.
No more, he said.
The pedestal beneath it crackedand a gust of air swept through
the room.
From the shadows, the buriedking emerged, cloaked in ash and
silence.
Opposite of him, the ShadowKing materialized in a shimmer
(13:52):
of black mist.
Kael took a step back.
You've seen what could havebeen said.
The Buried King, his voice,deep and brittle like old earth.
And you closed it.
The hunter nodded his voice low, because I've finally chosen
what will be.
The shadow king approached.
(14:14):
Then prepare yourself.
The invisible king has seen ittoo, and he does not take kindly
to closed books.
Before the hunter could speak,the candlelight was extinguished
.
The chamber went black.
A voice slithered into the dark.
Not loud, not soft, justpresent.
You shut the future.
(14:35):
Now I rewrite the present.
The air grew thick and cold.
Kel clutched the hunter's arm.
Don't let him in, she whispered.
But it was too late.
The Invisible King had foundhis way in and now nothing would
remain untouched.
The snow softened until quitehush around them.
(14:59):
As they crossed into the shadowof the abandoned chapel near the
outskirts of Rome, the windcarried centuries of silence
through broken stained glasspainting ghostly patterns across
the cracked marble floor.
It was here, beneath the finallight of dust, that Kale stopped
walking.
Her hand trembled slightly,found his wrist.
(15:19):
We're close, she whispered.
It's not just a relic, this one, it's something else.
He looked at her, studied thewearer in her voice.
She hadn't been the same sincethe confrontation with the kings
, neither had he.
That moment had burrowed intohim and now every second felt
(15:39):
like it echoed with some hiddenclockwork counting down.
The invisible king was moving.
They both felt it.
And whatever this book was, itwasn't just a tool, it was bait.
They entered the.
A tool, it was bait.
They entered the chapel.
The altar was gone.
In its place stood a pedestalof bone, white stone carved like
(16:00):
an open palm.
On it lay a book bound inleather so dark it seemed to
drink in the light.
No title, no lock, just waiting.
Kale hesitated and for thefirst time, her confidence
cracked.
I think it knows he steppedforward anyways.
(16:22):
Well, so do I.
As his fingers hovered over thecover, the shadows deepened, a
voice not not heard but feltrippled through the room.
It wasn't words, it waspossibility, pain, regret and a
choice.
He opened the book Blank pages,dozens of them, maybe hundreds.
(16:43):
But then a single drop of bloodslipped from his thumb onto the
parchment.
The ink began to write, not hisstory.
What could have been Married?
Safe, quiet, a job he hated butkept?
No kale, no relics, no pain, alife where he never searched
(17:04):
because he was never lost.
He felt himself pulled towardthe page like gravity made of
nostalgia.
His knees buckled, held rush tohim, gripping his collar,
shouting his name.
You're not that man anymore.
She screamed Don't let itseduce you.
But he was seeing everythinghis brother alive, his wife
(17:26):
still by his side, his father,proud Tears streamed down his
face as he whispered.
Why does it feel so real?
Cal leaned close because a partof you still wants to hide.
In that moment he knew the relicwas not showing him a lie.
He was showing him what hislife would have been if he had
(17:49):
never chased the truth.
He stood, closed the book andsaid the words that would burn
into the next chapter of hisstory I am not potential, I am
decision.
The book burst into flame, butthe fire didn't burn.
It branded something onto himinstead, not a mark on his skin,
(18:11):
but a mark in his will.
He turned to Kale.
I remember who I could havebeen and I choose who I will
become.
From the raspers above,something unseen, stirred,
watching, waiting.
The Invisible King has seen ittoo and for the first time he
felt afraid.
(18:31):
The rain had stopped, but thesky wept gray above them.
They walked in silence alongthe stone path that wound
between the old crypts, theVatican, forgotten corridors.
Now, far behind them, the cityof Rome whispered below golden
lights, flickering like memoriesin the distance.
The undercarried the book inhis hands like it might bite him
(18:53):
.
His thumb was still stainedwith blood.
Kale walked beside him.
Her steps were slow, unsure,like she was still trying to
piece something together.
Something about the relic.
But not about the relic.
But not about the relic, shesaid to herself about him.
(19:17):
You haven't said much, shefinally said.
He didn't answer right away.
He was watching the shadowsflicker on the pavement,
watching for something that feltlike it was watching him.
I saw what I could have been,he murmured.
Kel looked at him.
What did it show you?
(19:37):
He stopped walking.
The city buzzed around themlike a different universe.
I saw a man with a family, aquiet life, fixing boats by the
coast.
He never left, he never hunted,never saw you.
(19:57):
Kel breathed, caught, but shehad it.
And was he happy?
She asked.
Thunder looked her dead in theeyes.
No, she nodded once, like sheknew the answer before she asked
he was safe.
(20:19):
Thunder continued, but therewas this emptiness in his eyes
like he was pretending not tonotice how much of himself he'd
buried.
Kel looked away.
You didn't stay safe.
No, and maybe I'll die becauseof that, he said softly now, but
at least I'll die with my eyesopen and there was a long
silence between them.
She sat on the stone edge of thehalf-cracked home.
(20:41):
Do you ever wonder what I gaveup?
He turned towards her, sure,staring at the sky, not meeting
his gaze.
I used to be someone before allthis.
Before them, the shadow andburied kings.
(21:02):
She nodded.
They took everything from meand gave me back something worse
Truth.
The hunter sat beside her.
That's what it does.
Every relic, every choice, itpeels another layer off.
Cal looked down at the book.
(21:22):
And now we're almost at the end.
No, the hunter said, we're justgetting close to the part that
matters.
As they sat in silence, a chillran through the end.
No, the hunter said, we're justgetting close to the part that
matters.
As they sat in silence, a chillran through the wind, a
familiar pressure, a voice, deepand slick as oil, echoed behind
them.
So this is the path you choose.
(21:45):
They both turned there.
Not fully visible, butistakablypresent was the Invisible King.
Only the shimmer of his outline, like heat waves on a desert
road, gave shape to his figure.
His voice did the rest.
You could have had peace, hesaid to the hunter, and I could
(22:06):
have been a ghost in my own life.
The hunter snapped you thinkthis ends with victory?
The king hissed.
You think this story you'rewriting ends with freedom?
Kael stood slowly, her handsubtly reaching for the dagger
in her hip.
The invisible kings formed,pulsed, wrapping the air around
(22:28):
them.
You've broken the seals, foundthe relics, but one thing you
still don't understand.
Healing closer, or rather thespace around them, bent towards
him.
You are not writing the future.
I am the book in the hunter'shand, shuddered pages fluttering
(22:50):
violently.
Kael stepped forward.
You're not a god.
I don't need to be the kingmurmured.
I just need you to believe thatI am.
Suddenly, a sharp wind cutacross the cemetery, followed by
(23:10):
two presents materializing inshadow and light.
The shadow and buried kingstood behind the hunter.
The air crackled.
You do not belong here.
The buried king growled.
I never left.
The invisible king replied.
You just stopped looking.
We warned you.
The shadow king said to himthis is not your time.
(23:33):
Said to him this is not yourtime.
I make time mine.
The invisible king roared, buthe did not strike, not yet,
because something else wasshifting.
Kale's eyes widened.
The book was glowing.
The pages weren't writing whatcould have been anymore.
They were writing what wasbecoming In the blood, red ink,
(23:55):
a single phrase formed at thecenter of the page the one who
rewrites the end is the one whobleeds for it.
The rain returned with avengeance.
Tall windows framed the swollensky over Venice, their pain
shivering as thunder crackedacross the water.
The hunter sat in the ruinedchapel Kael had found, and
(24:16):
crumbling walls of overgrownvines wrapped the place in quiet
despair.
Candles lined the broken altar,flickering with unease, as if
they too knew the weight of whatwas coming.
He didn't speak.
He hadn't.
Since they arrived, kael stoodacross from him, her back
straight but her eyes soft.
She had carried him throughthis far, through Rome, through
(24:41):
the descent into the Vaticanarchives, through the book that
bled futures not lived.
She knew what was stirringbehind his silence.
You've seen it, haven't you?
She asked quietly, quietly,what would have happened if you
stayed small?
He nodded slowly.
The book had not shown himmonsters.
It showed him peace, a modestlife, a woman, a son, a desk by
(25:06):
a window overlooking quiet trees.
It showed him what the worldwould have given him if he asked
for nothing more than comfort.
It was beautiful, he saidfinally and empty.
Kale tipped her head.
Why empty?
Because they knew it wasn'tmine, it was borrowed space.
(25:26):
It was safe.
It was soft, but not, not true.
He looked up at her and in hisface was a storm far louder than
one outside.
That life had no weight to it,no sacrifice, no cost.
It was paradise without fire,and I was happy.
(25:46):
But I was asleep.
Kel moved closer, her handresting lightly on his.
Then, what now?
He exhaled sharply, as if thequestion heard itself.
Now I bleed and I write my ownpages.
A silence passed.
(26:07):
Then Kale turned her head justslightly, her eyes narrowed
Something's coming.
The doors of the chapel groan asthe presence entered.
Not footsteps, not movement,just pressure, cold, heavy, like
the memory of guilt returningto a room it once lived in.
And then they saw him, theinvisible king, uninformed and a
(26:30):
feeling, a distortion of light.
The candles bent towards hispresence, shadows moved where
there should have been none andin the air hung something
unspeakable, a suggestion ofendings.
Cal rose instantly, positioninghimself in front of the hunter.
You don't belong here, shegrowled.
(26:52):
The voice that responded waslike wind through bone.
I belong wherever regret lives.
Thunder stood.
What do you want To remind you?
The Invisible King whispered,that you are not a god, you are
not immune to your past.
(27:13):
You are not beyond the weightof your choices you didn't make.
He stepped closer.
Kael's knife was ready in herhand.
I saw what you were shown.
The king hissed and you darewalk away from that, From peace,
I do.
Thantra said firmly, becausepeace isn't what I'm after.
(27:34):
Purpose is the Invisible.
King laughed Then.
Bleed, little man.
Bleed for every word you writein that book.
And then he vanished.
Carol turned to him,breath-catching.
Are you ready for this?
He looked at her jaw.
(27:54):
Are you ready for this?
He looked at her jaw.
He said something quiet to herI was born for this.
Outside, the storm broke into afull roar and somewhere beneath
the chapel floor, the bookwaited, its pages still wet with
destiny, and it was stillunwritten floor.
(28:15):
The book waited, its pagesstill wet with destiny and of
stolen written.
The candlelight flickeredagainst the stone walls of the
underground chamber, castinglong shadows across the ancient
Vatican vault, the understud atthe center of it all.
Blood now dried at the edge ofthe book's spine, the words no
longer appearing.
Kale hovered at the edge of theroom, arms crossed, her face,
(28:37):
unreadable.
It stopped writing, he saidsoftly, almost to himself.
She didn't respond at first.
Instead, she stepped forwardher boots echoing in silence.
Because it's waiting on you,she said softly.
(28:57):
He turned towards her, stillcaught in the trance of what he
had just seen.
What I could have been if Iplayed it safe, the life I left
behind, the ones I lost, it wasall there.
It felt real.
Kel nodded.
That's the trap of it.
The book doesn't lie, but itdoesn't tell the truth either.
(29:19):
Only you can do that.
He looked down at the bookagain.
The pages were blank now, andyet they seemed heavier somehow,
as if they bore the weight ofevery unchosen path.
As if they bore the weight ofevery unchosen path.
Slowly, revelantly, he closedthe cover.
The sound echoed like a finalbreath.
(29:40):
He turned and walked towardsKale.
Have you ever thought about it?
He asked who you could havebeen.
She looked him in the eyes andfor the first time, he saw
something fragile behind herstrength.
Every day, their silence heldelectric and honest.
(30:04):
Then came the rumble.
The room trembled.
A low hum filled the chamber,vibrating through the stone
floor.
The relic pulsed faintly.
The hunter placed a hand overit, instinctively.
What now?
Kale?
Whispered.
The relic spun, not wildly likebefore, but methodically,
(30:25):
turning with direction like itknew.
The hunter followed its motion.
We're being summoned.
Kale arched an eyebrow by what?
The air split.
Reality buckled inward like acurtain pulled open by unseen
hands.
The flame in the room stilledas the corridor formed not of
(30:46):
space but memory.
They were being pulled not to aplace but to a convergence.
We have to go, he said.
Kael hesitated.
And if it's a trap, he smiled,tired but sure, then we spring
it together.
They stepped through.
They emerged into a great hall,a void suspended in time.
(31:11):
Stone walls carved with symbolsthat moved like breath.
Then temperature was impossibleto gauge.
Twelve thrones, eleven filled.
The kings were waiting.
The shadow king stood at thecenter.
He lowered his hood just enoughto reveal a jawline carved of
shadow Beside him.
The buried king leaned on hisstaff, the sand at his feet,
(31:36):
never still.
The other kings murmured as thehunter and kaleael approached,
but one chair, one throneremained, shrouded in pure,
undetectable distortion thethrone of the invisible king.
The shadow king raised a hand,silencing the room.
You've brought the relics andnow you read the book.
The hunter nodded, and now youread the book.
The hunter nodded I know who Iwas.
(31:56):
I know I could have been, but Ichose who I am, a pulse echoed
across the room.
The thrones responded in kind,each flickering with recognition
, but then the air shifted.
The unseen throne pulsedviolently and then, for the
first time, a voice echoed fromthe throne itself.
You were never meant to finishthis path.
(32:18):
Kael stepped forward, and yethere we are.
The distortion shimmered, itspresence wrapping the space
around it.
The Shadow King's voicedeepened.
He grows bolder, the very kingadded, and closer, the hunter
(32:38):
turned towards the king's.
Then let's end this.
From the blank pages of thebook still clutched in his hand,
a single word had burned itselfinto the paper.
Now he looked at Kale.
She nodded.
The Council of Kings stoodtogether for the first time.
The war was no longer coming,it had begun.
(33:02):
I know, guys, that was acliffhanger, but just stay tuned
for the next episode becauseit's going to get a little crazy
.
So you know, you start torealize something dangerous when
you stare long enough to theblank pages of your life that
the past cannot be rewritten,but the future can, and that's
(33:28):
where you always have lived,right In the futures that never
came.
We used to call it potential,but now you know the truth.
Potential is a lie we tellourselves when we're too scared
to become something actuallyright.
There's a version of you thatnever settled, that would have
built just enough to beapplauded but not enough to be
(33:51):
known.
Right, that would have stayedsaved, just enough to be praised
, but not sovereign.
You saw his name in the bookthe Forgotten Future.
It wasn't blank because therewas nothing there.
It was blank because you werenever supposed to go that way.
You understand now.
(34:12):
The blood didn't unlock whatcould have been.
It revealed what, what it wouldhave killed you, not with a
weapon, but with comfort, withease, with, with applause, with
that slow erosion.
And yet you're still breathingbecause that man died.
And in this place standssomeone else, someone who never,
(34:33):
I should say someone who's notreading futures anymore.
You know he's writing them withfire, with conviction, with
scars of someone who's alreadydied once.
So the question no longer iswhat could you have been?
The real question is is whatare you about to become?
So let's go ahead with ourreflections.
(34:55):
Number one what's the forgottenfuture you keep clinging to and
what is it costing you to keepit alive?
I know that's a big question,but you got to answer it.
Number two where in your lifeare you still living by
potential instead of action?
(35:17):
Number three what is the truthyour blood would write if it
touched the page?
That's a big one.
Number four how would you liveif you believe nothing was
written yet?
How would you live if youbelieve nothing was written yet?
And number five what becomespossible the moment you stop
(35:44):
grieving the man you were andstart becoming the one you were
meant to be?
These are big ones.
These are huge questions, butI'm telling you, once you get
the answer to this, your life isgoing to change, I promise so.
This was an action-packedepisode and, man, it's just.
I God, I can't wait for you tolisten to 9 and 10.
(36:08):
It's going to be absolutelyincredible.
So I'm going to say this guys,I just want to thank you so, so,
so, very much for listeningtoday.
I can't even tell you how muchit means to me that you have
taken 36 minutes right now ofyour time to listen to me talk
and share these stories with you.
Thank you so much for listening.
(36:30):
Now, if you want to support theshow, there's a great way to do
it.
Share those with your friends,like this, leave a review.
That would be great too.
It helps out the show, but ifyou want to get a hold of me,
there's three ways you can dothat too.
First way is going to be in thedescription here.
It's going to say let's Chat.
You click on that and you and Ican have a conversation about
(36:54):
this episode or this series.
Actually, we just crossed 250episodes, which is crazy, so we
can talk about that or any ofthe other episodes that are out
there.
Okay, there's 250 now, which isnuts.
Second one is gonna be throughmy email.
My email isanthonyatgentsjourneycom, so
please feel free to reach out tome there.
And, last but not least, youcan go to my Instagram page.
My Instagram is my gentsjourney, so please feel free to
(37:18):
reach out to me there too.
Okay, so, guys, I'm so excitedabout these.
Last two episodes are going toget crazy, so hold on to your
hats and you better buckle up,all right?
So, guys, thank you so much forlistening in today and, as
always, remember this you createyour reality.
(37:39):
Take care.
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