Return of the King. Part 2. His Story
When I was young, we moved around a lot. Moving from house to house. State to state. This made it difficult to find friends. Every time I did, we would move. I was the youngest of 7 children.My step father was a violent drunk who regularly took his frustration out on my mother and us children. But we grew up. We were not little forever. There was only so much of picking mum up off the floor and wiping up her blood and picking her teeth up that one can take before animosity grows. My older brother grabbed my step father by the throat and taught him a lesson for beating mum. It worked for a little while. But my older brother was not always there to protect us. My other brother has a lisp now because of the violence. He was thrown across the room as a baby because he was crying. He was never the same. I grew up learning to keep my head down and opinion to myself. My mother kept on going back to the man hoping he would be the person she married. That was not the case.
I found out at the age of 13 that the man I called my father was not my father. My mother sat me down with my Birth Certificate and asked me to read the Sir Name. The Sir Name was different to the one he had used my entire life up to that point. I was glad I was told, however it opened the door for my other siblings to define me as the “Half Brother”. This hurt me more than I would like to have admitted at that point of time. The one stable thing that I did have in my life was my family. I felt like an outsider.
At 14 years old we all moved to Queensland. It was here I was bitten or stung by something. To this day I don’t know what it was. But I know that I was clinically dead for more than twice as long as I should have been able to come back from. This was the moment I realized that there was more to life than the life we live in our physical body. It goes on. I know it. I have seen it. I remember looking down at my lifeless body and watching the doctors and nurses work on me. Then I felt a hand on my back and a female voice said to me to go back. It is not your time yet. She needs you. I did what the voice said. I went back. I always thought that the person the female voice referred to was my mother. I now think that the person they referred to is my wife. I am certain of it.
I was also hit by lightning twice and lived to tell the tale. The first time it ricocheted off a telegraph pole and hit me as I was walking to school. The second time I was running across a paddock to the car to escape the incoming storm. Lightning was crashing everywhere around us.
Now that I look back, I can see where people had involvement in my life. Gave me the guidance and support that I needed. The support and guidance that I did not get from home. My mother did her best. She always used to say that “I got it right the 7th time”. When I was young I used to dream of intricate buildings. Places that looked like churches. It wasn’t until I got a computer at about 19 years of age and the internet was available before I actually realized that the places that I had seen in my dreams were actually real. I used to dream about Cathedrals. All of them are on the 33 degree Paris Meridian which was put in place by the Merovingian’s. It was like I was remembering past lives and how I was instrumental in the building of them.
I got a knock at the door. Not too long after my mother had passed away. It was at this point that I was told about my family heritage. I looked for my Biological father. I could not find him. It was like he was a ghost. Absolutely no trace of him. I was told that my father had died and his grave was in NSW but if I was to exhume the grave, I would not find a body because it had been moved to a family tomb. When I asked where that was, I was told that I would be told when the time was right.
When I was told about my heritage, I was in shock. I didn’t believe it. I was instructed where to look. How to look. How to interpret the information and how I could distinguish between information that was from a reliable source and that which was not. I was told how to find information that even an experienced researcher would have trouble finding. I was instructed about family crests and what they meant. How to read them. What crest was relevant to me and my heritage. I was told that my DNA and my Blood type would give me all the proof I needed. I didn’t believe it. I put my head in the sand and tried to forget it. But it niggled at me. I could have family out there. So I started taking an interest in what I was told.
What made me take notice was when I was a child, they knew where I was, who my friends were and much more information that they couldn’t have known unless they were tracking me. Looking back I can see where they have had involvement in my life and I was none the wiser at the time. I did engage a private investigator to look into it. He returned to me and told me that it was above his pay grade and it was in his best interests that he stayed out of it. He gave me my money back and I never seen him again.
It was a couple of years later that I entered the dating scene. I was not having much luck. I couldn’t exactly tell anyone this. We had to be in love first before I even contemplated telling them about it. I met Melissa online. She was the first woman that I had common interests with. And in early discussions, she spoke of a proud family heritage. She was far more knowledgeable than anyone I had even contemplated talking to about it. Slowly I told her about what I was told. I was scared she would run for the hills. I would never see her again. It was more than 6 months of living together before I told her everything.
I lived with my brother at the time. And Melissa and my brother did not get along. But I had loyalty to my brother. I was planning to get a place with Melissa but I could not leave my brother in a pickle. Melissa pulled stumps and left after my brother became violent towards her. That apple didn’t fall far from the tree. I had to chase her or I would have lost her. She is a strong woman. Not exactly the type of woman to cower and be intimidated. She is the type that would crush you and it would be that swift and decisive that they don’t see it coming. A definite alpha female and had the support of countless other suitors that would all do anything to win her hand. But she is nobody’s fool.
I had to make a move. We talked about it. Getting married. That is when she told me about the 7 grand gestures of love. Melissa said that because her father had died and there was no senior male member of the family that I could go to and ask for her hand, I had to adhere to the 7 grand gestures of love rule. She made the terms very clear. She said that in the lead up to the proposal there was to be 7 grand gestures of love. 1 a day for 7 days. They have to be that grand that by the end of the 7th day, it has become global news and every man is kicking themselves because this man has set the bar of courtship so high and every woman is watching with baited breath to see if she said yes to the proposal. She said that this was meant to prove to her with out any shadow of doubt that the man she is being courted by will do absolutely anything for her. Put her above all others. I almost had a heart attack. I was broke.
Those in my background came back again and gave permission for us to wed. They said that they approved of a union with Clan Bolton. Funny that. We had no communication. How did they even know that I was dating Melissa. They hinted to the fact that they knew what I was looking into online and congratulated me for looking in the right places. They told me more about my background including that the family bloodline went back through the Bruce’s of Scotland to a Noble Irish family and from there, back to the son of Jaque De Molay and the Grand Masters of the Knights Templar. From there it went back to Renne Le Chateau and the Merovingian Kings. Now this sounded pretty out there to me but they ensured me that my DNA would prove it due to the SNP’s being able to be tracked through the male line.
A couple of weeks after receiving permission to wed from those in my background, there was a Blue Blood Eclipse to take place. I could not think of a better time to ask her to be my wife. It did not adhere to her 7 Grand Gestures rule. I wasn’t sure how she would react. I wasn’t sure if I would get a slap in the face because I didn’t adhere to the 7 grand gestures rule and Melissa is very traditional. That night I took her to Queens Garden in Perth. Under a fully eclipsed moon we ate a picnic dinner and I got down on my knee with a audience of moon gazers and asked her to be my wife. She accepted. I managed to get her on a technicality. The next Blue Blood Eclipse is in 370 years time and is in the northern hemisphere. I put on her finger a ring in the shape of a crown. With the promise that I would get her one more fitting.The next day we were approached in the shopping center for confirmation of our engagement.
From here on it it becomes OUR story.