This is the first episode of the adventure, the saga, the experiences of Marcus, of Paris, a student of Medical Sciences, in the midst of the vigorous Philosophy of the thirteenth century, following the masters Thomas Aquinas, Siger de Brabant, and Albert the Great.
 
        Marcus, an admirer of Sonja's intelligence and beauty, found himself involved in fields of struggle against the papacy, at the same time perceiving the entanglement of politics in Europe and the way it went to unprecedented violence: persecution of those who think or wish the freedom to philosophize on new and conflicting issues.
        Since the debate was what mattered, and it took place in Italy, in a simple inn, Marcus made his way alongside his fellow students. The greatest thinkers of philosophy and religion of the time, from every corner of Europe, gathered at the inn. At that moment Marcus became secretary and scribe, witness to the discussions, doubts, agreements and certainties about Western thought. In his vague time, he and friends, crossed magical and mythical interfaces, coming in contact with terrifying upires, murderous gypsies, anachronistic beings, alternative realities, absolute magic, fleeing templars, Hindu vagrants, and the dreaded Calatin the rabid dog.
        It was the world of the thirteenth century and it was unveiled with the Franciscan dawn and reached the west under the shadow of the body of Jacques DeMolay, burning in the fires of the inquisition.
     This book is a journey through history, Europe, a culture. A world of knowledge that is revealed only in MARCUS, THE IMMORTAL.

Yes. I am over 800 years old, but those who know me do not think that way.
What sets me apart is the silver-tin cane inherited from my grandparents, people hidden in the violet mists of ancient times, when the clouds of age clouded all the knowledge.
Alberto Magno's text came into my hands through one of these curious coincidences, although I have always been collecting objects that could mount the secret memory of the events of our lives. Yes. My eight hundred and twenty years of age made me go back to the 13th century, when I met Alberto. I open such minutes with episodes of that time, and so I will continue as long as the forces remain, and as long as I am invisible to the implacable owners, authorities and leaders of the twenty-first century.
Alberto was walking through the fields, writing and researching. Pen and ink have always been a part of her life, just like herbs and drinking pots. He was relentless.
Albertus Magnus Lucius, that's his full name. I do not remember if it was 1.245 or 48. I met him when I was in Paris and the Master finished writing down a set of papers after lecturing to University Scholars about the Secret Mulierum. Then came the meeting in the inn that gave evidence of friendships, but which gave rise to great enmities as well. Some of these have led to assassinations.
I was young, no more than twenty-three, and came to Paris as a student of the Medical Arts.
And then the story will begin.

The preliminary epistle of his works in France, as I recall, are considerations of the misfortunes of magic for the weak. Text that was not accepted, initially, neither by old magicians nor by representatives of the Church. However, calmly, he explained:
 - Dear Marcus - so he called me, - it is necessary to accept the fact that all the action receives a reaction and here is nothing new, since Hermes Trimegistus.
 - Yes Master.
 - Therefore, every time a mage interferes in the balance, or in the flow, or still interfere in the organization of nature, there will be a reaction. The wizard is not omniscient. Many times the magician thinks he can more than he can. It interferes and does not even know where it will stop.
 - I believe in that.
 - Hence the misconceptions of White Magician and Black Magician. They are relative values. Energy has no side. Neither the illuminated side nor the dark side of the force ... Well, dear Marcus, well. Aware of this, the magician must prepare mentally and physically for the clash which, in most cases, is neither spiritual nor spectral ... but purely somatic. The magician can suffer actions on his body that he must resist. If the body is weakened, the mind will not stand up. Both die.
 Such were some of the teachings of Albertus Magnus.
  We walked along mud-strewn alleys, Alberto with my arm amiably on my shoulders like two fellow minstrels and taverns returning from a panda. And in the midst of teachings he pointed to roads and hills and paths, and said of other legends that were complementary to our studies and related facts of times of stubborn persecution ... He once spoke about Calatin, whom they sought for all the ports of Europe, remembering past histories, therefore, put in doubt in the present time. Alberto pointed to a lane and said: "Calatin here passed, a stranger of gypsy origin, came from the Slavs, knew fragments of the Occult, and used them to gain advantages." Then, Alberto, returned to the classes and directions in the path of esoterism. But, in fact, my respect always remained immense for the Great Alberto.
 At that same time a priest from Antwerp, a master Wickerscheimer, negotiated with Alberto some lectures in Erfurt.
 It was rainy afternoon and he left with his protected carriage, leaving on a trip. I was in charge of teaching fundamental classes to those who began studying the Philosopher's Stone, a subject in which I was an apprentice, still following in the footsteps of the work of Thomas Aquinas. A work dedicated to Brother Reinaldo, probably one of the brothers of the Order of the Brothers Preachers. On this occasion I performed, allowing students a study of importance to their lives, based on the lessons of Hermes, The Three Times Great, The Three Times Master, The Three Times Mage.
 While Alberto was away, I was able to visit other Schools and attended a series of secret meetings to decide, on a concealed level, about pretending to ignore the ambivalence of the sacred and the damned in the religious realm, despite the clear evidence, even in the study of Biblical Genesis. These lectures and meetings were made under the cloak of the night, for we were all running away from the papist spies.
 I remember that a young woman very attentive to our studies - in our midst the number of women has always been greater than that of men - said: "If the ability to grow and multiply is a blessing for man and woman, the first curse is only given to women: You will multiply the number of births "and today, nearly eight hundred and thirty years, I see that the inability of the human species to regulate its proliferation is the most terrible curse hanging over humanity. Had this been the greatest divine curse?
 "Mother is a mystery," said Sonja, the young woman studying with us.
 "It is the somber aspect of the mother, that of always giving birth, without stopping, until death prevents her from staying on Earth," said Tareja.
 - Collective and material consequences ... disasters, and lack of food ... that's why men blame us. The blasphemy falls on us, and that is comfortable, "Sonja snarled with her pinky finger pointing to the heavens.
 - But, Sonja, traditional civilizations ...
 "... because of menstruation, the substance of the woman appears as if bound to the world by a nocturnal magic, and the priests impose upon us responsibility for a malevolent spiritual influence - she touches my chin, gently - Alberto himself is very severe with that. Ask him.
 I had to listen and shut up. As Sonja is beautiful. And if it were only that ... her intelligence manifests itself with rigor and passion. These women give us constant lessons. Although they had a uterus and were insane, it was evident, every day a new guideline sprang up in the meetings. Sonja led the youth group.