My Young Apprentice

I received your letter this morning. You write that you have met a woman who stirs your interest, and that your mother believes she is a gift from heaven. Yet you ask: “How can I know if she truly cares for me, or if she is a harlot seeking only to steal my soul?”

You have asked me such questions before, and though I hesitate—for I treasure your soul and wish no harm upon you—I feel compelled to answer. I fear you will pursue her, and perhaps follow too far, only to discover the truth at great cost.

So bind my words to your heart, that you may be spared her poison should she strike while you are intoxicated by her spell. Investigate your mother’s hopes if you must, but be wise: your soul is at stake. Do not enter the arena unprepared. Clothe yourself in the full armor of God, for if I am right, she has been sent only to test you.

Do not be deceived. Her snare may unfold slowly—days or weeks of seemingly innocent conversation before she strikes. Do not fall in love with her; do not fall at all. Learn her nature, but remember: the serpent desires your soul. She is not what she appears to be, and she does not play at chance—her prey is almost always claimed. Stay above her on high ground, and watch her ways carefully.

Speak little, if at all. Listen twice to her words. To subdue you, she will first give freely, and you will be satisfied. But soon you will crave more, at any price. She will offer more, but then reveal her own needs. Her voice will be soft, innocent, alluring—yet it is the hiss of a serpent. If you are unprepared, temptation will disarm you, and she will own your soul. Captured, you will seek only to please her, willing to give more of yourself for another taste.

Do not forget: the harlot, like fine wine, intoxicates. You will want more of her at any cost. You will promise anything she desires, yet she will demand more of you—until your strength is spent and your spirit depleted.

Remember my words, Apprentice: the prey never commands the captor, and the captor always rules the captive soul. If you feed upon her bounty, you will be lost. Exit her door while you still can. At first, your escape will be hidden in the darkness of your own soul, but if you delay, it will be taken from you, and no way of escape will remain. Trust my words. 

Exit while you may. Hold fast to them as a sword—strike quickly, be done, and you may yet win the day and live to fight another.

Affectionately