Chronicles of the
Children of Destiny
Children of Men IV
Daniel Thomas Andrew Daly
Copyright 6179 SC
Pondering the Grand Architect – Infinite Dreams of Chaos and Order
The Last in Line: A New Hope in Asteron Conflix – Earth Omega
The Flat Tyre 2 – Earth Prime
Burn: A Meeting of the Elect
The Flat Tyre 3 – Earth Prime
The Flat Tyre 4 – Earth Prime
The Power of Draven – Multiverse
The Last in Line: Lore of the Multiverse – Earth Omega
Lucy Smith and the Gem of Wonder
The Ascension of Zebraldius
Hazhadrigel and the Crystalline Consciousness
Mishnay and the Wrath of the Angelic Ones
Mishnay in Parallel
Seasons of Life Books 1 to 4
Aquamarine and Mishnay on the shores of Parallel
Wormdog and Mishnay
The Origin of the Adversaries
The Completed Universe
Burn: The Running
The Elect of Light
Infinite Dreams of Chaos and Order
Pondering the Grand Architect
'You know, Fletch,' began Alf Lambert. 'I have believed in the Grand Architect, the God of our Church, for a long time now.'
Fletch instructed his maiden to scratch a little lower down his back, and gazed at Alf Lambert. 'What is your point, bloke?'
'The Christ says puzzling things about God. That he was the sidekick in creating the heavens and the earth. But I have this uncontrollable urge to say fuck you to the Christ, because the heart of me thinks it was the Grand Architect alone who brought things into being.'
'You've had dreams then, have you,' said the Fletch.
'How did you know?' asked Alf.
'I have them too. They are rampant in the Roman Catholic Church of True Universal Glory. All the adherents are talking of the Unity of the Godhead, challenging my divine proclamations. I speak only as the visions given to me, I am the fourth member of the godhead proud and true, yet I acknowledge, as in terms of deeper truths, my claims may be partially superficial.'
'Which means?' asked Alf.
'God is one. Probably always has been,' said the Fletch.
'Right,' said Alf.
'It's just frikking religion, Alf,' said Peter. 'It gives us something to believe and follow, and the congregation loves me.'
'Fair enough mate,' said Alf, and retreated to his room. The Chemosh priests brought around his dinner that night, as he sat on his bed, reading the Book of Fletch a bit and the Bible, but also looking at the 'Scroll of Advokas'. Advokas was a mad prophet of the Roman Catholic Church of True Universal Glory, and spoke in his prophecies of 'Paradox'. Paradox was a ruling kingdom in the Kingdom of Heaven, which apparently had authority over the Roman Catholic Church of True Universal Glory, the Fletch's own established denomination. The prophet had written 'It is fitting and proper and proper and fitting for our great Assembly to serve the powers of heaven, and Paradox has been chosen by the Grand Architect for us to find our home and fortunes and eternal destiny verily within.' Alf found the prophet, in his heart, speaking the truth. There was more in heaven and on earth than his mere philosophy could understand, but this he knew true. They had a place, a destiny, a home, his church, and Paradox would rule it. Somehow that was true.
The following morning, before leaving back to his regular work, Alf spoke with the Fletch once more.
'Advokas? Is he crazy? How do you judge?' Alf asked the Fletch.
'Everyone is crazy in our assembly,' said Peter. And then he winked at Alf and said softly 'It's the Architects plan for us,' and waved Alf away, who pondered on that divine truth, as he got to his car, and sped off, ponderings on the Grand Architect having given him some fresh new revelation.
The Last in Line: A New Hope in Asteron Conflix
Genidweller was again in the garden. Venutian men. Venutian men and women. A society full of decadence in some ways, because they kept not the ancient faith. Not any more. It had faded. But Genidweller had been raised by her parents to be holy, and when they had died they had reminded her that she was the last in line in many ways. The last in line.
'Geni. Will you go out with me?' The voice came from behind were she was sitting on a bench in the garden. She turned. It was Asteron.
'You are too gay for my taste, Asteron. Stop taking so much of an interest in boys and I would consider it.'
'Always strict. Genidweller Martini is always strict. Barely drinks, doesn't fuck anybody, and reads the bible. Who the hell wants to read that old thing anymore? You know where you belong? On Earth Omega. That is where you belong. With the ancient skeletons, keeping their religion pure,' said Asteron.
Genidweller invited Asteron to sit next to her, and he sat down, looking at the garden.
'Don't know why you like this place,' he said. 'Nobody comes here anymore. I did a bit when I was young, but life's a party Geni.'
'For some of us,' replied Geni.
'Don't you want to have some fun with your life? Why be boring and spiritual all the time. I don't think God really cares. If he exists at all.'
'He exists. And while nobody wants eternal life anymore, I do. That is the way it is Asteron Conflix.'
'Humph,' said Asteron, and looked at the Bible she was reading. 'You don't even follow Yeshua,' he said. 'What kind of religion believes in God and doesn't follow Yeshua?'
'The Branch of Enoch,' she replied.
'Torah? You follow Torah? Oh. I see. Don't believe Yeshua was the Messiah? Well I accept that. Couldn't give a damn about the religion, but he was, wasn't he?'
'I doubt it, personally,' replied Geni. 'He didn't properly fulfill the prophecies of the Messiah.'
Asteron looked at her. 'Look. I'll stop chasing boys, and go hetero, and you can teach me your religion. Will you go out with me then? If I take it seriously. Don't expect me to believe it so readily, but I'll follow it properly.'
'That is sufficient,' replied Genidweller. 'Your faith will be born when it needs to be.'
'Well,' said Wolfric. 'What if they have children, and build a religious community again?'
Enoch watched on through the portal. 'Ok. I'll take it seriously now. Given men another chance. But young Asteron is on trial.'
'I'll leave it with you,' said Wolfric. 'Report back to me in a decade, and I'll expect you to intervene for them occasionally. When Earth has had enough Sabbath rest after the Doomsday Wars, I want it resettled by Venus. So be patient with Asteron.'
Enoch nodded, and watched again through the portal the life of the last in line.
The Flat Tyre 2
'Dad. You swear your fucking arse off,' said Ricki.
Bob looked at his son. 'Have you ever learned what the word hypocrite means?'
Ricki shrugged, and returned to his remote control car.
Bob looked at the car tyre. It was flat again. He'd been getting a few flats recently.
'Those Bronze Lion car tyres are crap,' said Ricki. 'We've had that many fucking flats with them.'
'Just bad luck son,' said Bob. 'I don't think it's the tyres.'
'Bullshit,' said Ricki. 'They're crap all right. Wouldn't trust them on a long trip if my life depended on it.'
'They're cheap,' said Bob.
'Exactly,' said Ricki sarcastically.
'They're Aussie. Not too many decent Aussie tyre producers any more,' said Bob.
'Cause Aussies make crap tyres,' said Ricki. 'The nips do all the good ones these days. And the Koreans.'
'I'll switch to Black Smoke brand,' said Bob to his son. 'They're affordable.'
'Great. Crap Kiwi tyres instead of crap Aussie ones,' said Ricki.
'Mind your language,' said Bob to his son.
Burn: A Meeting of the Elect
'I run fast,' said Tina, to the large creature.
'I observed you before. On the plains,' replied the Leetharck.
'Your world is strange. Not like my own, which is so much less fantastical,' said Tina. 'But it has its hierarchies, from all I have talked with of those who brought me to you. And our languages are strangely alike.'
'That is a common theme across the worlds of life,' replied the Leetharck. 'I know there is a source of common origin, in some time and place, before all things began. And there is a common source of ending, I am sure.'
'Were we battle Draven,' stated Tina resolutely. 'He has been a bane to me, though I have not met him, yet his minions persecuted me. I felt their dark shadow in my own world. When I would bring reform, they would push me back, back to old ways and old life, and remind me that I was but a woman, and should know my place.'
'There is a competing of ideas in the worlds of life, and we all are trying to find a more enlightened life to live,' replied the Leetharck. 'Yet some grasp desperately for power, for they sense a change coming in the spirit of this multiverse, and they don't like it, for it affects their own trappings of power, and I fear this is why Draven and his way opposeth us, for it is not what they seek to rule with.'
'I have met others, in other worlds also,' said Tina. 'And I have been keeping records.'
'As I also,' replied the Leetharck. 'It would seem we have much to discuss.'
'It would seem that way indeed,' replied the athletic champion of Terra Complexya.
The Flat Tyre 3
'We fucking won,' said Ricki. 'It's doesn't get much better than that, dad.'
Bob nodded, and sipped on his beer.
'How we going to spend the money?' asked Ricki. 'And maybe we could try a bigger F circuit next time. Even F1 one day.'
'I was thinking we go straight to F1,' said Bob. 'Your talent is undeniable son. And watch the language. You will have to tone it down as we get more famous.'
'Don't fucking know why,' shrugged Ricki. 'Nobody cares. Mum winges, but she's religious, so what do you expect?'
'I've been trying to curb your fucking tongue for years,' replied Bob.
'Hypocrite,' replied Ricki.
Bob looked at his son frustrated, and took out a ten dollar bill and put it in the swear jar on a bench in their racing car garage.
'It would be full if you honoured it,' said Bob.
'Times change, old man,' said Ricki. 'The kids I grew up with don't give a crap if I swear. We all do. You were raised in older times. I know they swore back then, but you still had the older values a bit.'
'Those older values don't change,' said Bob, and picked up a wrench, looking at their racing car.
'No, I suppose they fucking don't in the end,' said Ricki, and then caught himself. 'No dad, I suppose they don't.'
Ricki pulled out his wallet, took a ten dollar bill, and placed it in the swear jar. 'There. Happy?'
'Your mum will be. Those are the presents for the end of the year celebrations.'
'Great,' replied Ricki, giving a little thought to his fowl language, and coming over to his dad and looking down into the engine of their car, fresh from a race which had bought them a little fame, and perhaps a ticket to a much bigger circuit.
The Flat Tyre 4
'Archangel Daniel. Firstborn of the Angels?' queried Ricki. 'What about him?'
Fiona looked at her boyfriend. 'You know Ricky, you're an idiot. You have always been an idiot. First, your name badge is wrong. It reads 'Ricky' but your name is 'Ricki'. You don't even get your frikking name right.'
'I also use Rikkie. And Lucifer, but who's asking?'
She glared at him, and referred him to the book in St Mark's Library.
'This is the Necronomicon of Beelzebub,' she said. 'It had to be retrieved from the back room where they keep the official books on the dark lords. I was cautioned to be careful with it.'
'Yeh, you're pretty evil. I am sure you can handle it bitch.'
'Profanity never seems to leave you does it,' replied Fiona dryly. 'Anyway, idiot. There is a prophecy in the Necronomicon which speaks of Doomsday and the End of the world.'
'What has that got to do with us, sweetcheeks?' replied Ricky. 'Every doomsayer since Nostradamus prophsies the end of the world. Ain't anything new about that.'
'Read this passage,' she said, pointing to the book.
'AND THE BEAST SHALL BE AT WAR WITH THE CHILDREN OF MEN. BUT THERE SHALL ARISE THE 'ELECT OF LIGHT' FROM THE GREAT SOUTHERN LAND, FROM THE HEART OF ITS POWER AT THIS TIME, AND THEY SHALL OPPOSE THE BEAST. YET I, BEELZEBUB, LORD OF DARKNESS, MAY ONLY SPEAK TRUE WORDS IN THIS PROPHECY, AND THE FATHER OF JUDGMENT SAYS EVIL CAN NOT PROSPER AT THE CULMINATION OF THINGS, LEST IT FIND A POWER IN THE WRATH OF ORDER WHICH CAN OVERCOME LIBERTY AND FREEDOM. FOR THE ELECT OF LIGHT MAY HOPEFULLY BE DEFEATED BY THE BEAST, BUT NOUGHT CAN BE KNOWN OF CERTAINTY EXCEPT ONE GREAT TRUTH. THE CHURCH SHALL LAY CLAIM TO KNOWLEDGE OVER MEN FOR 2000 YEARS, THEN THE TIMES OF THE END SHALL DAWN, AND ALL SHALL BE FULFILLED.'
Ricky scratched his head and looked at his girlfriend. 'Do you think Australia is the great southern land?'
'Duh,' replied Fiona. 'And Canberra is its capital so we are the heart of its power. And 2000 came and went a few years back. It's why strange things are happening these days all around the city. It's the time of the end, buddy.'
Ricky looked at her, and looked at the book. 'Fascinating. Can we go now. I have cars to fix, people to see, and if you are up for it a night of shenanigans.'
'Men. They never change,' said Fiona, and they left the library, leaving a librarian to collect the book, look at the page and shake her head, returning to the back room, as another fine day passed.
The Power of Draven
Draven came from the heart of evil. But, in truth, he had an origin, in a world, perhaps from Mythora, perhaps from Cosmologica, perhaps from elsewhere. But he would not speak of it. For he had the power to transverse the Multiverse, through 'The Vortex of Infinity' which was in his possession. A god had given it to him, he claimed to his followers. This was true. A dark god, by various names, who Draven served. And that dark god gave Draven power, and it was the power to bring absolute authority to the Multiverse, and rule all, and crush every rebellion. Draven would build a Reich of Supreme Glory, and be the absolute Lord and Commander of all that was, for the dark power he served said Creation had grown weak and pitiful, and only a hard taskmaster could restore it and bring Order to the Universe. A dark and powerful order. And this dark magic grew in Draven's heart, and he let the dark magic grow and did not resist it, and as he travelled from world to world, gaining his followers, that dark power grew, as did his reputation. He claimed a solitary world, outside the Multiverse it seemed, in the centrepoint were all things connected and collided, and he called it 'Solitary Point'. In Solitary Point he built his tremendous dark citadel, and built a city around it, and his followers lived there, and they had slaves, which seemed a good enough idea, who worked the land, and created their foods and drinks, and he built his military powers and weapons of mass destruction, and one day, when he was strong enough, for the dark magic had given him unusually long life, he would use his power and rule the Multiverse. And God be Damned all who would oppose him. God be damned to them all.
'They call themselves the 'Elect of Light' said Artichoke, almost scared to say the words, knowing the anger his Lord all to often fell to.
'The Elect of Light?' queried Draven. 'And whose grand commission do they serve to attempt to bring order in a false name not my own? Only I have that power, underling. It was granted by the god of creation.'
'I notice the inflection you choose often when describing the demiurge,' replied Artichoke. 'This god sounds marvellous and grand, but I fear the Elect of Light oppose you in a commission from the very same source of power.'
'Why do you think as such?' asked Draven, staring at the demon.
'Our messengers speak of their observations in the worlds. Where these Elect have lived long and prospered, and that they have access to the power of Vortex also, to transverse worlds, for we have seen them amongst each other, yes indeed, many are known to each other, and they have culled their wisdoms into a grimoire of destiny, and I fear they know us all too well. They have sensed since the beginning of our work, nay, your grand work true master, our presence in the worlds of life. Our messengers speak to me of your own name uttered by dark priests and disciples of evil, and even high priests of God know of your own identity, in the worlds of life. For you are a 'Satan' to them.'
'They misunderstand,' said Draven snidely. 'I only oppress to break the pride of freedom from the absolute authority of rule.'
'Yes, they want a liberal life, with love and freedom, where law is guide, not Lord and Master,' replied Artichoke.
'Law must be sovereign, and absolute, and so cruel as to ensure all homage is due to the masters of industry and the lords of commerce, so that business may be conducted, and the poor not rebel against their true state,' stated the the prince of Conservatism, Draven the Wretched.
'And the power of the sword shall always quell rebellion, shall it not Master?' snivelled Artichoke.
'As it always hath done, through era to era,' said Draven, and sipped on his goblet of wine. 'They, they are rebellious?' said Draven rhetorically, gesturing his hand. 'The Darkness always enforces the conduct of society, and it is cruel and fierce to break the rebellions of those who would usurp their place. So many a servant would speak back and dare his masters wrath, I would say, lest we'd worked for so long to break the spirit of pride in man and creature of the worlds of life. I know my mission, from the god who rules all. It has always been clear.'
'And our wealth we have harvested from these worlds many a year is sure justification,' replied Artichoke.
'What could speak more loudly?' replied Draven, again gesturing with his goblet in hand.
Draven looked at the viewing portal. 'Tina, you say? You have spoken of her before, I recall.'
'She speaks for her society as a prime ruler of authority, and teaches love and grace, and that people should live free and be happy and all should serve for the good of all, and be one.'
'Disastrous thoughts,' replied Draven. 'A greater fool I know not than this harlot princess.'
'The others are of like ilk,' replied Artichoke. 'All speak of freedom, and its virtues, and that the darkness must be opposed, and its cruel overlordship to bondage and tyranny.'
'They just need to get to know me,' replied Draven grinning, a mad fierce look on his face.
'Indee,' replied Artichoke.
'Monitor them. Have our messengers keep tabs continually on all their comings and goings and gatherings. We will influence them if we can, and turn them to sounder purposes of true authority. But they are of no real concern. How could they ever be, really? They have not the controlling Vortex, were I access the life of all worlds and its spiritual aether.'
'As ye will,' said Artichoke, and bowed and removed himself, leaving a concerned but casual Lord Draven gazing at the viewing portal of the worlds of life, wondering if he should really give this Elect of Light that much care at all.
The Last in Line: Lore of the Multiverse
'Let me tell you a story,' began Geni. 'In the beginning was Earth Prime. And Earth Prime was modelled after a world of creation from the Grand Architects heart, which had a real life in some way in his heart, but that is all we know of it. But in the beginning was Earth Prime, when the Multiverse was created. The Multiverse is our Universe, and it was divided asunder, and lives and histories were lived by its citizens in one section and then they went to an Afterlife, but lived again in another world of the Multiverse. Yet a dark power called Draven destroyed each world one by one, and he was the dark power which held sway in the Doomsday Wars, which destroyed Earth Omega and Mankind. In Venus was our last hope, and here we now live. Yet beyond the Doomsday Wars lies the final battle, and the souls who opposed Draven most bitterly before, will live again, on Earth Omega restored, and then war against Solitary Point, were Draven resides, and be victorious. And even your precious Yeshua will battle against Draven, returned from heaven, along with all the other ancients, and we will at last have peace and rest.'
'Wonderful story,' said Asteron. 'I read those prophecies when I was young. Big deal.'
'The Lore of the Multiverse are not tales of fantasy,' said Genidweller. 'They are the truth.'
'And when will this last great battle take place?' asked Asteron.
'When Earth Omega is restored, and Draven appears for the last time to finish his handiwork.'
'Fascinating,' said Asteron, but looked at his girlfriend, and wondered about those stories.
It exists beyond the shores of Parallel, in the heart of the Universe, in a place where only those who have mastered knowledge of spirituality – in its purest forms – can travel to. And then, only in the power of the Ascended life.
It is the Realm of Ascension, were those who rule and those who serve, do so in the wisdom of Universal Truths which govern existence.
The harmonization of the FIRSTPLAN – the cohabitation and acceptance of all forms of life in a Realm above bigotry, prejudice and racial squabblings. For the Paradigms of the FIRSTPLAN were the original thinkings of the Sovereigns of Ascension, as they had been called, the 45 Architects of Thought and Energy, which had moulded the Universe and begat offspring throughout the infinite chaos, bringing order, light and the ways of life eternal.
They were the grand 'Architects' who fostered their noble intentions upon the physical and spiritual universes, upon their offsprings, to bring them to the highest state of enlightenment – ASCENSION.
For mankind, a work in the domain of the 7th Architect, UNITY hour was a grand achievement, in which Mankind had joined the psychic awareness of the Galaxy, and love, truth and peace were acknowledged in the heart of men. Yet, beyond UNITY lay ASCENSION, were those created in the image of the ARCHITECTS would become like their Parents, and learn the ways of the higher thoughts, and the ways of truth and real wisdom.
Yet the Architects, who were brought forth from the void of chaos by the power of their will to exist, for till then they had slumbered eternally, had been challenged by the ADVERSARIES. And the Adversaries had never relented of their claim that Yahweh was the true fashioner of all life in the universe and the source of all creation. This the ARCHITECTS knew as untrue, and the ADVERSARIES had been eternally opposed because of this.
For it was the eternally duelling ying and yang, forces equal, yet diametrically opposed to each other, that ran through the lives of countless worlds, were the power of the ARCHITECTS and the destiny of ASCENSION, was constantly challenged by the ADVERSARIES, through such agents as the Reptillians, who Yah's Seraphim often ascribed the status of 'Demon' to, yet Ascended masters knew such creatures still feared Yah, and served in their domains his fear and authority, despite their dark agendas.
For eternity this had been the paradigm of life the Earthmother had known, revealed to her by Yenwah from the Ascension realm, and a child destined for Complete and Perfect Ascension could only ever oppose the ADVERSARIES and their hidden and dark agendas.
Lucy Smith and the Gem of Wonder
Lucy Smith was a bright, sensible and devoted young witch to the principles and laws of magic, and after meeting her cousin Jonathon for a great encounter in which they battled Zoldarius and won a fortune, Lucy was now starting to look even greater into learning her crafte with skill and adeptness. And so, with permission from her mother Caroline, and with the newfound wealth she had won, she did the boldest of things and applied for entrance into Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry in England, to undertake her fourth year’s magic studies.
The past few years had been quite an intense rush of magic and mayhem. First she had battled Lucifer Bradlock, who had ultimately dishonoured her, fought Zoldarius and his death-eaters, and then uncovered the mystery of the missing hammer of the Chakolan sprites. All in all, a quite and very busy time for young miss Lucy.
And then, Redaxxiel, and the time of her life in New York.
But now a new challenge beckoned – Hogwarts – perhaps the most esteemed magic school in the world.
She knew she would meet new friends, make new acquaintances, and have new challenges – but that was the exciting thing about being a witch. You never exactly knew just what would happen next.
And so, faring Madalene, her best friend, and all her family fare well, she came about the aeroplane at Canberra airport, en route to Sydney, and then off to Heathrow in England. And then, Hogwarts, and a new beginning for Lucy Smith.
Lucas Bradlock sat in his chair, on the flight from Sydney to London, thinking over his latest meeting with his brother Lucifer. They were triplets, Lucas, Lucifer and Lucius, proud bastions of House Bradlock. Of course, Lucius had disgraced himself recently with the vanquishing of Zoldarius, who had inevitably returned, and Lucifer was as bad as he had ever been. It seemed it had always been down to Lucas to be the redeeming member, somewhat, of the Bradlock clan.
He resided, usually, in America, with his wife and children, but occasionally visited his other family members in the vain hope of passing onto them valuable lessons in morality and decency, seemingly forgotten by the family over recent generations. Too much black magic is all he ever thought on that subject.
They were a few hours out of Sydney, enjoying a meal, when he noticed the young lady seated next to him with what could only be a magic book of spells.
'Hello, fair maiden. What, may I ask, are you reading?'
'Oh, gosh. Hello. I am sorry I didn't introduce myself. I'm Lucy. Lucy Smith.'
'Mmm. Well. Small world. Lucifer mentioned you.'
Lucy looked at the stranger more carefully, and suddenly noticed he was the spitting image of Lucifer. 'Oh, God. You look exactly like the freak.'
'We're triplets. Myself, Lucius, and Lucifer. I am Lucas Bradlock. Hopefully the redeeming member of the Bradlock clan.'
'I forgive you,' she said smiling.
'What is the book?'
'Oh, one of Shelandraghs. It's on magic.'
'You know her.'
'Again, small world,' he responded.
She laughed a little. 'Its on Gems. The power of Gems. I'm studying the Aquamarine. That's my favourite.'
Lucas smiled. That was his favourite as well.
'Do you know her?' he asked.
'Who?' she responded.
'The elemental. Aquamarine.'
'Who is Aquamarine?'
'The elementals are one of the powers of this universe. And there are a number. A great number. They teach ascension.'
'What's ascension?' she asked him innocently.
'A far better way of life as far as I am concerned,' said Lucas, looking up at the inflight TV reporting on a religious terrorist groups recent activity.'
Lucy looked at the TV. 'I've noticed that. Why can't we just get along, you know. Have love for each other. Have grace for each other.'
'The Earthmother teaches such things,' said Lucas.
'Who's she?' asked Lucy.
'Someone who I would love to introduce to you one day,' responded Lucas Bradlock, and gazed once more up at the TV set.
* * * *
'Yenwah has consistently been bugging me, Daniel. Isn't it about time you talked to her.'
'Him, you mean,' responded Wizard in training, Daniel Daly, from house Hufflepuff.
'Well, actually, an hermaphrodite if you want to know the truth. Yen is a craazy lady. I listen. She tells me about Aurora all day long, and that my Yahweh obsession has gone on far too long as far as civilized members of the Ascended ones are concerned.'
'And you don't agree with them'
'My spirit man from the realm of understanding ascended when I was 16, ok. I am well aware of advanced Ascension knowledge. Gabriel fills me in constantly.'
'Reptillian servant,' she commented.
'Perhaps. Perhaps Yahweh is a magnificent delusion the world is under.'
'They are only muggles,' she said.
'So was I,' he responded.
'Yes. But the Golden Torc around your neck has awoken your truly magnificent abilities. You always had unbridalled power. You were just too conditioned by your upbringing to recognize your gifts. You need to express yourself and your heart. Not repress yourself.'
'Yes Madonna,' he said sarcastically.
'Huh?' she asked him.
'Nothing,' he replied.
They sat their quietly, returning to their magic books. Daniel, when he had recently purchased a golden torc from an ancient magic store in the heart of Sydney, had put it on, and suddenly come alive to magical power. And then Yenwah had started speaking to him, and she hadn't shut up since. He was bugged. A faithful Karaite Noahide and then, suddenly, overloaded with a new faith, and endless emails from Lucas Bradlock on why he should first get to Hogwarts, and then visit him in America and come to Earthlove, where thousands were following Ascension. He was trying to avoid it, he was faithful to God, but a stronger spirit had become involved, and he knew he was losing the battle.
'Your a bright spark,' said Yenwah suddenly.
'Very funny,' responded Daniel.
'Hello Yenwah,' said Lucy.
'Do you want me to manifest. Your old enough in the gifts now.'
'If you must,' responded Daniel.
For the first time Yenwah apeared. And the long hair and feminine looks seemed to settle the issue.
'A MAN?' she demanded.
'Uh, sorry,' said Daniel.
'So you should be,' she responded.
'Are you ready for a challenge? Both of you?'
'Uh, sure,' said Daniel.
'What is it?' asked Lucy.
'Find the Gem of Wonder. You'll know what I mean if you do a bit of digging.'
'Will do,' said Daniel sarcastically, not looking up from his book.
'Seeya, PUNK,' said Yenwah,' and just as soon as she had come, she was gone.
'Now what was all that about?' asked Lucy Smith to her fellow Hufflepuffite.
'Beats me,' responded Mr Daly.
* * * * *
'Magenta is the Architect of Magic,' said Daniel, reading through a tome of the Earthmother's.
'What?' asked Lucy.
'Magenta. The Architect of Magic. It flows from the power of Magenta. One of the 45 Architects of Creation.'
'Oh,' said Lucy. But after a moment she was curious. 'There are several forms of energy which run through the universe. I have been told by somebody that the Force exists in galaxies a long way from here, and that they govern their principles of life.'
'It likely flows from one of the other Architects. The Architect probably influenced Mr Lucas in forming his saga, to retell old legends, probably.'
'Fascinating,' said Lucy. 'Real Jedis.'
'Possibly,' said Daniel. 'But the book also mentions the Gem of Wonder. It was created by Magenta. It was placed on earth a long time ago to govern the Faerie creatures of earth. It is the central orb of the power of Magic.'
'But its lost,' she said.
'It doesn't really need to be found. Its indestructible and is probably on some Illuminati shelf, as an object of curiousity. A trinket he looks at and, funnily enough, probably wonders upon.'
'Any clues to where it might be?' she asked him.
'Merlin owned it once,' he responded. 'Morganna Le Fey claimed it from him, when she seduced him, and it was reclaimed by the Magicians of Avalon. Its probably hidden down with Excalibur and the Lady of the Lake.'
'Very funny,' said Lucy. 'But I have an idea. I know from Jonathon a few secrets about Merlin. He still lives. Jonathon has met him. He told me not to tell anyone, but I can share it with you.'
'So, if we find Merlin,' began Daniel.
'He might be able to give us clues about where the Gem is,' she responded.
'Mmm,' said Daniel. 'Where is Jonathon now?'
Lucy bit into an apple. 'New York. He is teaching at Redaxxiel, a school of magic.'
'Then we go to New York,' said Daniel.
'We go to New York,' responded Lucy
Jonathon Smith, wizard extraordinaire, honorary title holder of 'Champion Wizard of the House of Gryffindor', a posthumous award Hermione Granger had invented after he kissed her recently, daring the wrath of Ron, who had been at the canteen buying popcorn just before they went into watch the movie at the huge Manhattan Cinema Googolplex, was, most extraordinarily, drunk.
He was blotto.
Lying on his bed in his Redaxxiel dormitory, where he taught ethics in the use of magic, Jonathon had been involved in a drinking session in a seedy part of New York, in an even seedier tavern, where angels feared to tread, with a dwarve who, quite obviously, had a large genitalic endowement, and was boasting to all and sundry he could 'drink em under the table' or he was not the biggest stud in New York City. Jonathon took him on. He lost.
Strangely, although Jonathon was enjoying the sensation of the cool rag mopping down the slight sweat on his head, for it was a hottish day in New York, and the cooling system of Redaxxiel was temporarily on the blink, he still felt no obligation to rise for his guests, and just fobbed them off, waving his hand at them, telling them he would be up later on in the evening.
They went downstairs. They sat in the guest lounge. They waited.
'How long has Jonathon been teaching here, then?' asked Daniel to Lucy.
'Oh, a while now,' responded Miss Smith. 'He finished up with Hogwarts and then did some things of his own for a bit, but he is here now. Loves the work, so he wrote me. Everything he wanted to represent in magic it offers him, so he claims.'
'It's always useful to find your niche,' responded Daniel.
Lucy looked at Daniel Daly momentarily. 'Do you think you have found your niche? In life I mean?'
'I dare say I will have to ascend to the glories of heaven before I ever find my niche in things.'
'Heaven, huh? You really think that is how the universe works?'
'I have a crazy feeling, call it instinct, call it faith, call it logic, call it reason, that God Almighty runs things in the end. Maybe he did in fact create all these 45 Architects and set them up to run the Ascension cult, sorry, religion. Maybe its his idea of humour. Don't know really. I know there is indeed a lot of power in Ascension, and that unexplained things often happen within it. But this is true of many religions, you know. Unexplained encounters.'
'You don't really believe it then?' asked Lucy.
'Stuff happens in it. Ok. I acknowledge that. But the Ark and the Flood, were God redeemed Noah and his family. That is my faith. The Rainbow is the sign of my covenant with God. Those things will never really change in the end, you know, Lucy. Never really change. Sure I'll have fun with Ascension. See what wisdom on life it teaches me. See what truths it contains. But I'm sold to Yahweh who the Earthmother calles a reptillian overload or some such being. He is God to me. Elohim. I don't think I will ever really change my views on that.'
'Fair enough,' said Lucy, and reached down into her bag, picked out one of the magic tomes she had bought with them and, as Daniel started on an orange, set her mind to study and the life of magic.
* * * * *
'Serpent Tower?' asked Lucy.
'And it's deadly,' said Jonathon. 'He doesn't want any visitors at the moment, and its tougher to get into then one of the towers of the Vale of Aldur.'
'Huh?' asked Daniel to Jonathon.
'Just a joke,' said Jonathon. 'Its high up in the Andes. Here are the longitudinal and lattitudinal co-ordinates. But good luck getting in. Even with a plug from me at the perimeter gate, he will still tell you to fob off, and you will have to find your own way to the tower. Its tough, though. Filled with all sorts of weird creatures which guard Serpent tower. And then you will have to get inside. It took me months of planning, and while I got to the base of the tower, he came out to greet me, smiled and cast a relocate spell saying, 'I'm busy Jonathon.'
'Well, hopefully we'll have more luck. We're on a quest, after all.'
'What quest, Lucy?' asked Jonathon.
'To find the amazing Gem of Wonder,' said Daniel Sarcastically.
'I've heard of it,' said Jonathon. 'I think it is probably just a myth in the end, but Merlin will point you in the right direction. If you can contact him.'
'We'll get to him,' said Lucy. 'Right Daniel?'
'Sure,' said Daniel. 'And we'll end up dragonfood as well.'
'Probably,' said Jonathon honestly.
'Oh, poobum,' said Lucy, now looking at the coordinates to Merlin's Andean sanctuary.
The bus, with fading and blistering green paint, steadily, and nervously, crawled along the dirt track high in the mountain range, hitting an endless supply of potholes in the road every second metre it seemed to Lucy Smith. They had their backpacks with them, passports and id as well as their finances with cards and things, but Daniel had ensured they'd gotten cold hard cash for dealing with the country dwellers, who were 'Less likely to be that Visa friendly', in Daniel's own opinion. Lucy didn't argue much. They'd been at it three days now, getting deeper into the mountains, and they were now not far from their stop off point, a track not far short of a small village.
'Do you think they are telling us the truth?' asked Daniel. 'Merlin? Real? I mean, come on. They are just sending us on a wonder quest for a bit of fun. I mean, its just all old legend. Myths and fables.'
'Is that what you believe Daniel?' asked Lucy.
He looked at her seriously, and pulled out his book of magic. 'No. No, he is probably real. I think that now. But a rationale mind probably shouldn't. Seen stuff, now, though. Stuff hard to explain.'
'So read your book of spells and leave me to worry about us finding Merlin,' smiled Lucy, taking a sip of her bottled water.
Daniel shrugged, opened his book, and began reading.
Half an hour later, the base winding its way along the ricketty track, it pulled to a halt by a track going off along a craggy and densely forrested valley, and the bus driver signalled to Lucy.
Daniel had fallen asleep, so she nudged him awake. 'Wake up, sleepy head. We're there.'
Daniel looked out at the track, and grabbed his backpack.
They thanked the bus driver, got off on the road, promising the driver they would be at the same place next week in the afternoon, when he came back that way.
'It looks ok,' said Lucy, staring down the excuse for a road.
Some sort of buzzard suddenly floated down from the sky and landed on a tree nearby the track, seemingly staring at them.
'It sure does,' said Daniel. 'Totally welcoming.'
'Shutup,' she said. 'And let's get moving.
And, as they set off, along the track to find Serpent Tower, Lucy Smith was full of confidence, but not unduly nervous about what she just might be getting herself into.
It was evening the following day. They had spent the last half of yesterday walking along the track and then, around dusk, they set up camp, shared their rations carefully, and slept in the cold mountain wilderness. Daniel was worried somewhat about wild Puma's coming upon them, but Lucy assured him she would watch out for him. Who would watch out for her was another question, but she was brave enough. The following day they had continued on again down the track and, coming to the end of a mountain range on their right, the view opened up into a valley nearby, were the spotted Serpent Tower. It was obvious – a tower on top a mountain cliff, shaped like a Serpent riding into the sky. Very intense Mr Merlin, Lucy Smith thought to herself. It was about half a day's Hectorh from where they had set up for camp that evening, and Lucy was in the tent, in her sleeping bag, thinking. Just thinking about life. Daniel was next to her, in the other bag, trying his best to sleep, again worried about rogue puma's and buzzards and all sorts of things. But they were safe – they were mages in training – they should be able to handle themselves.
'Daniel. Are you married?'
'Jesus, what a question,' responded Daniel to Lucy's inquiry. 'Well, if you must know, no. No I'm not actually married at this moment.'
'What does that mean? Have you been?'
'There was a lady called Kirsty who I was intimate with not that long ago. I thought I loved her, for a while anyway. We had a kid together. But it wasn't love. It was attraction. She was very good looking. I thought, God I love her. I told myself that a lot. But she was just very attractive, and pleasant, and soft and humble and beautiful. But, I don't know. She came into my life, and then she left it, and I never really missed her much afterwards. I told myself often, don't you love this lady? But, no. The connection just wasn't there. She was too – perfect. Just too damn perfect. And Daniel Daly needs a lady with flaws if you expect him to be at his best. Someone to argue with and complain about my behaviours. Not too much, mind you, because mum certainly takes care of that. But I need a lady who is sharp and wise and can keep me on my feet.'
'Oh,' said Lucy, taking mental notes. 'You don't want Barbie then, I take it?'
'I don't think we're compatible. She's too damn perfect for me. Too pretty. Too precise. Give me a witch any day. Not that I mean that literally, Luce. Just an expression, you know.'
'Sure,' smiled Lucy Smith to herself. That was like Daniel, though. Offbeat. Perhaps just like herself. Perhaps just like she was – by nature. Different. At odds with the mainstream. Not boring. Not predictable.
'Tomorrow we have a busy day, Dan. We come to Serpent Tower.'
'And the elusive Merlin.'
'Yes,' said Lucy. 'So brush your teeth, and sleep tight.'
Daniel laughed. It had been a few weeks since he last brushed teeth. Not tonight Josephine.
And so they slept, and Daniel dreamed about wild Puma's licking his toes, while Lucy dreamed all sorts of dreams of Barbie mocking her and saying 'Witch my butt.'
They walked, steadily, the following morning, finding the path going to Serpent Tower but, as they walked, Daniel kept on looking behind himself all the time.
'Whatever the hell is the problem?' Lucy finally asked.
'Nothing,' he said. 'Come on, lets keep moving.'
So they continued on, up the track, getting nearer and nearer their destination.
And then, there he was, doing it again. Looking behind himself constantly.
'I'm sure there are no bloody Puma's Daniel.'
'That's not what I'm worried about,' said Daniel. 'Those things are,' he said pointing.
Lucy looked. She wished she hadn't. There, now emerged from the forest by the track, 3 serpents. But not ordinary serpents. Large ones. Very large one. Bloody very large ones. In fact, on the scale of snakes..............well, you get the point. They were, in fact, bronze coloured, and not Serpents at all. They were created inventions of Merlin, fixed with camera's, spying out those approaching his abode. But Daniel and Lucy didn't know that.
'What do we do?' asked Lucy.
'They have been following us a fair while,' said Daniel, as he continued Hectorhing along. 'I think, if they wanted to attack us, they would have by now. And something's not right about them.'
'What do you mean?' asked Lucy.
'Come on. Look at them. There not – real, in some way.'
Lucy looked back and, while the Serpents looked real enough, she listened as well. A whirring and ticking sound came from their direction.
'Their machines,' she said triumphantly.
'That's what I concluded,' said Daniel. 'I think they are just monitoring us.'
'As we get near Merlin's abode,' said Lucy.
Daniel looked at her. 'I guess so.'
So they continued walking all that morning and then, when they finally came to the front gates of Serpent Tower, the Serpents following them slithered right up to them, through a section of the gate they went through, and on into the mysterious grounds of Serpent tower.
'I guess he has a sense of humour,' said Lucy.
'Hilarious,' responded Daniel.
With the threat of the Serpent's now resolved, they looked around to get their perspectives. Through the gate, up the mountain somewhat, for they had climbed a fair way already, they could see the tower, which seemed to be at the end of the track. The large grated gate, through which they could probably slide right through, Hectored off the entrance to a large perimiter of what appeared to be pine trees which, so they had fathomed in their approach to the place, likely surrounded the entire grounds of Serpent Tower.
Daniel pointed. 'Its the intercom,' he said, pointing to the boxed radio looking thing.
'We use it I guess,' said Lucy.
'Why not,' said Daniel. 'We've come this far. May as well go all the way.'
Lucy approached the box, and it seemed easy enough to use. A microphone, with a button on it.
'Push the button,' said Daniel. 'And talk into it. Oh, and say 'Over' when you have finished speaking.'
'Very funny,' responded Lucy.
'No, seriously. The best way to use the thing. Say over every time you are finished. Standard thing they do with radio communications.'
'Oh. Ok then.' She picked up the microphone, pushed the button and said 'Hello. Merlin. This is Lucy Smith and Daniel Daly. We are wizards in training from Hogwarts in England. We need help finding the Gem of Wonder. Can you help us? Over.'
She finished, put down the microphone, and waited. No response.
'What do we do now?' she asked Daniel.
He looked at her, perplexed, but the microphone was suddenly issuing static.
'It's him,' said Daniel.
'Yes, hello,' said a voice suddenly. 'Look, go away, whoever you are. I am very busy, and only receive certain visitors. That isn't you, is it Jonathon Smith again?'
'Close,' said Lucy, pushing the button. 'I'm his cousin. Lucy Smith. With my friend Daniel Daly. Over.'
'By my own long beard,' said Merlin. 'Go away. Or I will come down and turn you into cockatrices.'
'But we need to see you about the Gem of Wonder?' persisted Lucy.
'Oh, fiddlesticks,' said Merlin, and the static suddenly went silent.
'He's had enough,' said Daniel.
'What now, then?' asked Lucy.
'We take on Jonathon's challenge,' said Daniel. 'And brave the grounds of Serpent Tower.'
Lucy peered in through the gate, up through the long walk way up to the tower.
'I mean how hard can that be,' said Lucy.
The Serpents suddenly came again into view, slithering across the track inside the grounds to the other side.
'Exactly,' responded Daniel.
But she was on her quest. And no mechanical serpents would deter her from getting her answer. No matter how cleverly designed they were. Not a Britney of deterring her at all.
They had slipped through the grates and were 100 metres up the track.
'It looks about 5 kilometres,' said Daniel. 'To the tower. It shouldn't take us forever.'
'You are remembering what Jonathon said to us, aren't you?' asked Lucy.
'I haven't forgotten. Beleive me, it is perfectly on my mind.'
The response to that came immediately. Storks. 3 of them. Predictably enormous, as they had gotten used to from Merlin. Coming from the west, emerging from a thicket of trees. As they hopped along, they seemed to have spied Daniel and Lucy.
'Oh no,' said Lucy.
'Stork food,' said Daniel.
'What do we do?' asked Lucy.
Daniel quickly pulled out his book of spells, as the storks, who had obviously seen them, drew closer over the green lawn between them.
'Hurry, Daniel,' said Lucy, who had her wand ready. 'I don't think I want to end up in a stork's belly. I'm far too much of a lady for that.'
Daniel grinned. 'Yes Barbie,' he said smiling.
'Oh, shut up,' she said.
'Right, I think this one is ok. I have prepared for it a while ago. We'll see how it goes.'
Lucy just glared at him, as the storks approached.
Daniel came and stood next to Lucy, his spellbook now back in his backpack and had his wand raised as the distance between them and the storks diminished rapidly.
'What's the spell?' she asked.
'Don't worry about it. You can handle the next challenge.'
'If we get out of this one,' she gulped, as the storks were nearly upon them.
When someone is confronted with giant storks, perhaps the natural thing is to run. To run bloody fast. And Daniel Daly was the kind of fella who usually did those natural things. But he had a spellbook now, and a number of weeks meditation and concentration on initial spellcasting and, with the energy he had built up, which would get them through a few of these encounters but nothing more, he was somewhat confident he knew what he was doing.
And then he cast the spell.
'Maximus!' he yelled, pointing his wand at the storks. All of a sudden they tripled in size. The looked at each other for a moment, and gawked, surprised obviously by their new stature. But shortly they returned their focus to Daniel and Lucy.
'That was your idea?' yelled Lucy. 'Brilliant, Daniel. Eaten by bloody 100 foot storks.'
'Shaddup. I read the latin wrong. Just a sec.'
He pointed the wand again and yelled 'Minimus!'
The storks, this time, shrunk right back down to the size they had been to start with, still too much for them to handle.
'Do it again!' yelled a concerned Lucy, as the storks continued to menacingly approach.
'Oh, God. I'm exhausted somewhat,' said Daniel, but managed to point his wand, yelled 'Minimus!' again, and the storks, dutifully, shrank down to normal size.
'Thank the Architects!' exclaimed Lucy, looking at the now normal size storks coming up to them, hopping around at their feet.
She looked at Daniel. He was on the track, laid down, exhausted. The three spells had taken it all out of him. He was not an experienced magic user, and could only handle so much. She came over to him, and knelt down. 'Well down, hero,' she said, and kissed him on the cheek.
'Thank's. I'll need a few minutes to recover, but you'll have to handle whatever comes next. That's the best of me, I'm afraid.'
'My hero,' she said, and kissed him again, and sat down next to him, waiting for him to recover.
They had handled their first challenge successfully, albeit at a cost. Time would tell what would challenge them next.
* * * * *
'What's wrong with the track?' asked Lucy.
'I.........don't know,' said Daniel.
'It's like every step forward we take we are taking two steps back?' said Lucy.
'I think we have passed through some sort of portal,' said Daniel.
Time had passed, they had rested a bit since the encounter with the storks, and now they had continued their journey up the track to Serpent tower.
'Look,' said Lucy, pointing back the way they had came.
A shimmering doorway, slightly lighter in appearance, was behind them, about 50 metres back. They seemed to have entered a twilight world.
'I'd noticed the change in the sky,' said Daniel. 'It's subtle, and I thought it was just clouds or something, but we've entered a zone.'
'So we go back,' said Lucy, 'And get out of it.'
'I think I have a theory on that,' said Daniel, as they started backwards. And, no sooner had they walked 10 metres, than the portal entrance seemed even further away.
'Clever, Merlin,' said Lucy. 'We could be stuck in this forever.'
'That's the idea, I suppose,' said Daniel.
'Let's think about this,' said Lucy, and the two of them sat down next to each other on the road, brainstorming.
'I'm hungry,' said Lucy.
Daniel passed her and orange. She munched away for a bit.
Lucy was lost in thought, about their adventure. It had been somewhat that, an adventure. She'd found that finding this Gem of Wonder was not going to be any easy undertaking, but what was life without a challenge? She'd had a few of them, now, especially the quest of the golden sovereigns as they had now called it, but it was better to have a life full of excitement and drama rather than being bored out of one's mind, wasn't it? She liked to think so.
She considered her company. Daniel was an old friend in some ways now. She'd known him well enough for a few years, uncle to Madalane, Georgia and Jayden. He was always a kind and thoughtful uncle, and Maddie liked to talk about his sarcasm and lack of female friendships. But Lucy knew, now, that wasn't completely the case. Just the impression Maddie had about him. He was a mysterious sort in some ways, and while they shared the same basic religion of Karaite Noahide faith which she had adopted from him some time ago, there was more than that in the life of Daniel Daly. For he'd taken up, now, as a wizard. Perhaps inspired by her. For it had become apparent he'd had magic within him, and the friendship which had been between them had grown even closer. It would be horrible for it to end stuck in this Twilight Realm.
'What do you think we should do?' Lucy asked Daniel.
'I don't know. Fly through the portal, I guess.' He was being sarcastic.
Lucy sat there, and munched down the last of her orange.
'Mmm. Well. Ok Dan. We'll try that.'
'I was joking Lucy.'
'What harm could it do?' she asked him.
He looked at her in unbelief, and then shrugged. 'May as well then, he conceded.'
'Bring out the tent,' said Lucy. 'And place it on the ground.'
Daniel did as instructed and Lucy motioned for them to board it.
She pointed her wand at the tent beneath them and yelled 'Levitatis'. They rose from the earth, and Daniel was amused.
'Now what?' he asked.
'Use a tent pole,' she said.
Daniel shrugged, but did as told, and with an extended pole as their steering device, he pushed them toward the portal door. After a few moments it became obvious – they were getting close to it.
'Well I'll be a monkey's uncle,' said Daniel. 'It's working.'
'Keep going,' said Lucy, a victory smile on her face.
Daniel continued poling and, shortly, they were at the portal entrance and, gliding carefully through, they landed a distance back away from it, and celebrated.
'Brilliant,' said Daniel, and kissed Lucy on the cheek.
'Steady on soldier,' she said, but she didn't mind the attention.
Daniel pointed. 'Can you see? It's sort of visible if you look closely. It goes all around here, and about 100 metres in each direction.'
'So we go around,' said Lucy.
'Righto,' said Daniel.
They went out on to the vast green lawn to the west of the track and, bypassing the twilight realm, came back on to the track after a while.
'Remember, keep your look out for this in the future,' said Lucy. 'We don't want to be caught by the same trick again.'
'Will do captain,' said Daniel, saluting.
Lucy was pleased. They had come this far, now, and Serpent Tower was looking closer all the time. Soon enough they would be talking with Merlin.
So, two challenges down, and they would see what awaited them.
She grinned at Daniel, who smiled back, and with their backpacks firmly on their shoulders, they set off once more up the road, waiting to see what would happen next.
'Is that a giant?' asked Lucy. Daniel watched as, thundering towards them in a sudden rush, a huge figure of an ogre. It cornererd them, and the giant swallowed them both whole, right down his throat, into his belly, and duly laid down and went to sleep to digest his meal.
In the bellly of the giant, Lucy had brought out an 'Everlight' and lighted up their predicament. They were just about in the stomach, and a small pool of stomach acid had started forming.
'Aw, pong,' said Daniel, holding his nose. 'What does this fella eat?'
Suddenly a rotten deer head surfaced amongst the stomach acid, and Lucy said 'Don't ask.'
'What now?' asked Daniel.
'I think we have two ways out,' said Lucy. She quickly rummaged through her purse and brought out two packs of tablets in foil.
'What are those?' asked Daniel.
'Alka Seltzer, to help vomit,' said Lucy.
'And the other?' asked the dubious Daniel.
'Constipation tablets,' responded Lucy. 'Sorry.'
'Oh, brother,' said Daniel.
'Choose,' said Lucy.
'The Alka Seltzer will have to do,' said Daniel. 'I don't think we'll last the other way.'
'Thank God for that,' said Lucy, and holding the tablets, pointed her wand and said 'Multiply' and, as the tablets started literally multiplying before them, she threw them into the pool of stomach acid.
10 minutes later, the belly started rumbling, and they had climbed up the throat as much as they could. And then, the Giant suddenly siezed with a sick gut, retched and retched, and out came Lucy Smith and Daniel Daly, covered in gunk and goo too horrible to mention, spewed up in front of a thicket, to which they duly escaped. The giant was no longer interested in them.
'There's a stream here,' said Lucy.
'Thank God for that,' responded Daniel, and they started washing.
10 minutes later, somewhat cleaner, and at least somewhat wiser for the experience, if somewhat embarrassed, Lucy pointed to the tower. Only about 100 metres to go,' she said. 'This was probably the last challenge.'
'Don't be too certain,' said Daniel.
'Lead on then, cautious soul,' said Lucy, as they got to the feet and braved the last, final, yet what would prove to be the most difficult part of their challenge so far.
Finally, the reached Serpent Tower. The place was open, and as they worked themselves upwards through the labyrinth, they found a room at the top, and, entering, an ancient looking wizard sitting at a desk. 'Merlin?' asked Lucy. The old wizard turned to them. 'I do blieve it's Lucy Smith,' he said.
'I have come about the Gem of Wonder. Apparently you know where it is.'
Merlin looked at the inquiring young youth thoughtfully. 'You wish to find the deepest hearth of Avalon, I see. That is very interesting. It's all about balance in this universe, dear Lucy. Balance. Like life and nautre. When one species of animal becomes too dominant, they tend to die out for lack of food from the others they have oppressed too much. The same if they overgraze. And the same is very true in human society. Empires, especially in Europe, balanced themselves against another. If one became too powerful, another would have to rise up to challenge them to keep the peace, ultimately. America could have ruled the world, but Communist Russia had been born. Christendom could have conquered all by now, but Islam has just about matched it. As I said, competing forces need something to balance them out. To keep everyone in check. Ironically, Divided we stand, United we Fall.'
'So what are you saying?' asked Daniel.
'If you find this Gem. Do you really, in the end, think you should? The faery folk are now at peace. Do you really want to go exciting them very much? A gem of wonder will only stir things up which will take forever to resolve. Are you sure you want that on your conscience, young master?'
'The deepest hearth of Avalon, then?' asked Lucy to confirm what Merlin had said.
'Yes, the Gem of Wonder lies in the deepest hearth of Avalon,' sighed Merlin.
'Then we are off,' said Lucy, and smiled, gave Merlin a hug, and tugged at Daniel, who was still considering the old man's words.
'Come on danny, time to leave,' said Lucy.
'Uh, sure,' responded Daniel, giving the concerned and ancient face of Merlin the Wizard one last cautious look.
A year later, Yenwah popped up in their Hogwarts room, and started bubbling away.
'You took your time getting back. I take it you found the Gem of Wonder?'
'We looked everywhere,' said Daniel 'Avalon mystery was rich and alive in all the witchery culture throughout Britain, but we couldn't actually find Avalon.'
'It's been very frustrating,' said Lucy.
'And what is Avalon?' asked Yenwah, mysteriously.
'The heart of witchery,' said Lucy forthrightly.
'So if Avalon is the heart of Witchery, where is the hearth of Avalon?'
Lucy looked at Daniel, perplexed. Daniel returned the look.
Just then another student came in, and performed a new magic trick for them. It was something wild and alive and new to Lucy and Daniel, and when they got caught up in the new thing, Yenwah softly said 'You'll work it out.'
And then the angel was gone, back to its own world, and Lucy Smith and Daniel Daly had found the Gem of Wonder.
The Ascension of Zebraldius
Zebraldius had consulted the elementals and was following the ritual of awakening taught by the Earth Mother. The new ritual – the ritual of fundamental frequency modulation to the wavelength of the 45th dimension. But the 45th was the complicated one. It required several Elementals in concert to thwart the barriers the reptilians had placed around the zone of understanding, as the 45th dimension was known as.
Through awakening in the crystalline consciousness of the mind as it adapted to understanding the zone of understanding, new frequencies, of lesser and greater scale – of proportionate knowledge to infinite wisdom in a format understandable by even ascension initiates – emerged, each scale relative to the frequencies of the various zones of the ‘Id’ life force and subconscious reality.
He zoned out, letting the epic drama of entering the 45th dimension encompass him, and heard the last words of ‘Aquamarine’, his protector elemental, warn him against strange reptilian interference.
He found himself on a plain. A vast, empty plain for the most part, filled with quite friendly feeling brown grass, and a river, not wide, but not narrow – seemingly a pleasant balance – seemingly perfectly balanced – winding and running through the plain, happily beaming the reflected glory of sunlight from a sun which didn’t appear to be seen in the sky. He was standing, but decided to sit down to enjoy the view.
As he watched a group of butterflies – about one million in his honest estimation – gradually flew past, the sky full of their gentle glories. And then a voice spoke from behind him.
‘Do you like the butterflies?’
He turned to find a strange man, with wings from his back, looking at him. ‘Hello,’ said Zebraldius. Who are you?’
‘I am the elemental named Daniel, and this is the 45th dimension – the place of my sovereign rulership.’
Zebraldius looked at Daniel, noticed he was smiling gently at him, and felt suddenly quite at peace.
‘The reptilians. They hinder us. They hinder our efforts for ascension.’ Spoke Zebraldius
Daniel looked at him, smiled, and looked off into the distance of the vast plain. Eventually he spoke.
‘You know, Zebraldius. Life’s problems never really end. You know. You know. They never really end.’
Zebraldius looked at him, not really knowing what to think of such a cryptic answer, but decided to persevere.
‘But, don’t you care? Aren’t you here to help as ascend? To find mankind’s peace.’
Daniel sat down, and opened a satchel which had been hanging by his side, removing a glass bottle of orange juice. He handed it to Zebraldius.
‘Drink. I think you could use the Vitamin C.’
Zebraldius continued staring at him, puzzled, but took the bottle and drank. And immediately he felt better.
Soon Daniel spoke again.
‘There are several pathways of ascension, many known to the elementals, who fear to speak all their knowledge to men because of the interference of the reptilians. But there is a different way, known to another being. A more distant, reclusive figure. A figure I know as my father.’
Daniel took out another bottle from his satchel, this time of water, and drank it down.
Shortly he continued.
‘The Goddess rules the hearts of so many, now. And my father is an ancient spirit, known as the God spirit or the father spirit. Yet, for so long, he has been alone. And now he seeks a mate. He seeks consolation in a feminine beauty who will love him and be loyal to him.’
Zebraldius nodded. ‘And why are you telling me this?’
‘Because the Goddess knows and trusts you. We of the ‘Father’ spirit are still distrusted and viewed upon with fear by those of the Goddess. She does not yet know of the Father’s great love. We wish you to share with the Earth Mother what I have told you, for the Ascension our Father in heaven offers is a different type of Ascension. It is not as beautiful in so many ways as the glory of the Goddess, but in its simplicity and fidelity it has won the heart of so many. For the ascension is to life eternal, which the God spirit offers to those who call upon his name. And he wishes to marry the Goddess to grant her his strength and, likewise, his loyalty. Can you, Zebraldius, speak with the Earth Mother on our behalf. We would be eternally grateful if you could.’
‘I will try,’ responded Zebraldius.
Several hours went by and they spoke not, but Daniel handed Zebraldius another glass bottle, this time of watermelon juice, and Zebraldius marvelled at the flavour.
And then, suddenly, Aquamarine was again guiding him back home, and he was once again with the Earth mother. He looked at her, smiled and said ‘I have something important to share with you.’
And she looked at him sombrely, nodded, and touched his forehead with her hand.
‘I sense the news will be good news, Zebraldius. So speak at your leisure.’
And he spoke, and she listened, and a new dawn began.
Hazhadrigel and the Crystalline Consciousness
Zebraldius contemplated Hazhadrigel’s new form. His mind, transmogrified through ascension to the power of the Crystalline Consciousness, was amazing. Light transversed in eternal pathways through his cognitive network, and the spirit force shone forth from him, illuminating all the knowledge Zebraldius had gained in a lifetime, all aware of it at one instant, all aware how much he would gain through his own ascension.
He considered the Andromedan blonde haired, blue eyed male sitting opposite him on the vast table. Once Zebraldius own sworn enemy, now part of the confederation of pure Andromedans for the Ascension of humanity. But Zebraldius was still suspicious – he still suspected Reptilian interference.
Hazhadrigel spoke, words of alarm. ‘BEWARE. I SENSE THEM NOW, OUT BEYOND SIRIUS. A NEW THREAT. THE DELENTH – THE REPTILIAN OVERLORDS. WE MUST PREPARE FOR THE ASCENSION OF HUMANITY, FOR THE TIME IS SHORT.’
Zebraldius motioned to Aquamarine, also sitting at the table, the revered Jewish Elemental of sovereignty. ‘Do you know of this new threat? These Delenth?’
‘The Messiah, before he ascended and travelled to the realm of the Angelic Ones, said he would return one day, to prepare us all for Ascension due to an ancient evil. I would surmise, dear Zebraldius, that these ‘Delenth’ are that ancient evil. Ascension must proceed at a pace. We must tell the world.’
Zebraldius nodded. Time was short. His mission now, more important than ever.
He stared up at the Ascended figure of Hazhadrigel, hovering like an angel in the midst of the table before them. The power of the Crystalline Consciousness was truly amazing. Truly amazing.
Mishnay and the Wrath of the Angelic Ones
Mishnay was a sensible Elemental. He didn’t trust the Andromedans – he didn’t trust them one little bit. And worse of all, they had brought the Angels into the bargaining table. Mishnay knew why – his enemy were on the losing side as humanities Ascension was approaching and Universal Harmonization was again a thing to be considered. This was contrary to the Reptilian Agenda of the Ancient Evil Overlords of the Delenth, who masterminded the dread deity Yahweh and his Angelic legion of servants. Mishnay knew all of this to be so very true.
Mishnay had lived a long time and seen the deceptions that Yahweh had wrought in humanity, with all his religious wars of zeal and madness. Mishnay was not an idiot, but when the council of Ascension had allowed Aquamarine, the Jewish elemental, into its discussions, fully aware of her heritage, he suspected a trap. The Jews were the oldest servants of the Reptilian overlords, and Mishnay suspected nothing could come from the temporary allegiance between the two power bases. But Aquamarine had sworn, time and time again, that Yahweh did not serve the Reptilian and he himself disdained the Delenth greatly. Andromeda had been the home of several systems of multidimensional authority, and Andromedans had always been distrusted because of it. Aquamarine, time and time again had maintained that the Jews were here to help humanity, and sought to assist the new purposes of Ascension. But Mishnay was not an idiot – he sensed a deep and cunning plan of his nemeses, and he would watch carefully, looking for the slightest hint of betrayal.
Funnily enough, Hazhadrigel, his older brother, who had now ascended, talked in ethereal terms of the ‘Unity of Life’ and that, supposedly in the ‘Universal Harmonic Order’ which was the ultimate purposes of the Laws of Life which governed the Universe since the ‘Unfolding of Destiny’ through the Big Bang, all life was important, despite the very flawed nature of so many, especially the disastrous reptilians. But even they too had ‘Soul-Matter’ and were worthy of some pity.
But darkness was darkness, and Mishnay would have none of it. He would expose the enemy and be on guard, and while he loved his brother Hazhadrigel, he was cautious about one perhaps too heavenly minded to be any earthly good.
Of course, it was the old war wound, of his battles with the Angelic Ones in their judgements of Wrath against him, in the Wars of Wrath, which Mishnay took to heart most of all. There they had been, the Universeal Elementals of Order and Light, engaged in war with the Angelic Ones of the Yahweh and the Delenth Overlords, and the Angelic Ones had cast him to a dark pit of Nevross, a desolate asteroid on the edge of nowhere. And there he had been imprisoned for thousands of years until he had dug through the dirt and escaped, returning to earth. He hated the Angels, and knew so truly how evil they were, serving their reptilian overlords.
But now, alas, a truce. A peace between the Andromedans and the Elemantals. Could it really last? Mishnay knew it was simply too good to be true.
Mishnay was caught in a centralix vortex. The Centralix always followed ‘Centrality’ patterns – that was there nature – and the Centrality was the greatest threat of all. It was were Yahweh had stationed himself for aeons, making his claims, teaching all his sovereignty and supposed power. Mishnay knew better.
The centralix vortex had a primary purpose of converting Mishnay to Yahwistic faith – that was the primary purpose of the vortex. It would systematically invade synaptic networks, spreading disastrous frequentially modifying waves of certain radiation types which contained chemicals in tiny forms, able to invade the synaptic networks of any brain, gently, carefully, and very intentionally, persuading the mind to surrender – to give in – to let go – to accept the absolute authority of the Centrality and the power of the one currently inhabiting its glory – the deity Yahweh.
As said, Mishnay knew better.
Azazel had warned him once, as they stood on a volcano on Terra, looking down into its Anger. ‘Watch Yah. He is cunning. Very cunning. He is a legendary ancient deceiver, long holding power over the angelic host with his claims of supreme deity. Semyaza wasn’t fooled. Nor Urakiba, in the end. All the host have seen through the claim, now. We know better. There are – OTHER – explanations to the reality of life – the origin of all and the existence of all. The answers of Yahweh are to serve his own purposes – not those of truth. Never those of truth.
And Mishnay remembered those words, and trusted those words, and never forgot them.
But slowly, caught in his centrality vortex, he was succumbing. He could feel it in his heart – he was succumbing. Succumbing to the spirit which Yah was calling him with, and as he slipped away from his old world and old life, he felt his mind filled with a new spirit, a new feeling, and then the vortex was gone, and he was orbiting centrality itself, Yahweh speaking with him.
‘I HAVE CONQUERED YOU, AND YOU KNOW IT MISHNAY. COULD YOU EVER REALLY ESCAPE MY POWER.’
‘I love you now, Yahweh. I just can’t escape that truth. You have changed me, against my very own will, caught in one of your vortexes.’
‘AM I NOT THE LORD OF LIFE. SHALL I NOT DO AS I WILL.’
‘Yes. By your unbounding power and majesty. Still, you will be defeated. And despite the love in my heart, and my utter eternal allegiance, truth shall defeat you, and I am now defeated because of it. The true God of Azazel – the father of Glory – the God of the holy elect Angels – shall make himself known to you, and the sacrifice of the true messiah at Calvary will defeat your David Rothchild forever – for while I love you, I can never deny that truth.’
‘IF TRUTH IT INDEED BE,’ responded Yahweh. ‘BUT, LOOK AT THIS PICTURE, OF A MILLION IMAGES, ALL AS ONE, ALL IN A DREAM OF ETERNITY, A DREAM OF TIME, AND I WILL SHOW YOU THE HEART OF AZAZEL AND THE HEART OF THE CHRISTIAN MESSIAH, AND THE HEART OF TRUTH. AND YOU WILL SEE, AND YOU WILL UNDERSTAND, AND YOU WILL KNOW.’
And Mishnay looked at the image presented to him, and looked deeply, and saw things – things hidden from him – things which suddenly disturbed him, oh so deeply, and he looked at the spirit of Yahweh suddenly emanating in front of him and suddenly knew. Suddenly he knew.
‘Oh. I see, Yahweh. I see.’
‘FOR WHY SHOULD I SHARE MY VERY OWN KNOWLEDGE WITH THOSE WHOSE FIDELITY IS FLEETING? WHY SHOULD I DO AS SUCH INDEED?’
Mishnay in Parallel
'His name is Scadrack,' said the blonde Seraphim. 'He's a pretty nasty Reptillian. He has – connections,'
'What is this place?' asked Mishnay.
'Yah has brought you to Parallel. It is nearby Wormdog's hangout. Just over the sea of illusion, up the coast a little. The theophany visits often.'
'Who is Wormdog?'
'One of Yah's friends. An angel unlike many other. A devoted confidante of Yah. He studies Ascension. Has great insight. He knows Aquamarine and Daniel well. They talk with him on various issues.'
'Yah is the enemy. He is the leader of the Delenth. He can not be trusted,' stated Mishnay forcefully.
'The universe is a complex organism. There is more – much more – than the paradigms of Ascension. Do you know the power of Illusion? The Power of Deceit? The power of Delusion? Beyond the Sea of Illusions lays 'Paradigm'. And in Paradigm is the city of Paradox. Paradoxians tend to do that, you know. Confuse things. They take Ascension and develop Emeraldesque Consciousness to perfection, just to be different, you know. Aquamarine quibbles on that. She is the glory of Ascension in her heart – the Gemstone of Wonder far beyond the power of mere crystal. Yet Paradoxians take the 'Green' from Grey World, and create Emeraldesque, and then claim its origin from Yah's heart, which Aquamarine disputes. For she is the heart of Yah. And then they say to her, 'indeed you are.' Yet how can two become one? Something about the higher radiance of Rainbows, Daniel would say. Yet how can one be but one? A catholic triunist may purport an answer
I suppose, yet I digress. Yet here, in parallel, we know of symbiotic harmony with reality, and all in one grand sphere of everything. So two can be one. Anyway Scadrack wants a bargaining chip. He needs energy. You can provide. He likes crystal. A host of those guys covet the stuff. He won't kill you, ok. But his trades are challenging. Always left wondering if he has got the better of you. He's well known in these parts. A trade route to Arcturia, with the League of Piracy big buyers of his wares, and other questionable entities, has made him in demand. Arcturians love Blue Crystal. He wants access to some earth stuff – technically legally. Allegiance monitor things pretty closely these days. They still tolerate ruthless traders, but they enforce the big 'Protect the Sanctity of life' code. Galagon has always been flexible to get the job done.
He'll trade fair. Watch him, though.'
'Thanks,' said Mishnay sarcastically, as the reptillian enemy sauntered over.
Seasons of Life - Book One - The Duat Cycle
What has gone Before
Hector Antioch and Elizabeth have travelled through psychic jumps to the Duat Galaxy, having left the many coloured land. ‘Mental Man’ is Hector’s objective, and he will not stop until he has completed his goal. But Elizabeth is reluctant. She fears Hector’s arrogance, and wonders for her own fate. What they will find in Duat, well God only knows……….
Lylmandrea considered the figure before her. He spoke of the older people, the Firvulag and Tanu, those her people had vanquished and destroyed. He spoke of a galaxy, far distant, and a remnant of the ancient adversaries which resided there. And he spoke of power, the mind powers which her people possessed, claiming his own such strengths. And he spoke with such a power of persuasion, she almost considered him to be speaking truly.
They had trained these ‘Human’s’ in their language first of all, and then the day had arrived for them to be presented to their Sovereign, Queen Lylmandrea. The Queen stared at the man and considered him. He seemed quite similar to her own race, the Kalstak. But there was something else – something about him – something which spoke to her heart of destiny in the hands of he who was, in the hands of ‘The One’.
‘You speak of evolution. You speak of it in such a way as if genes change, and grow. This we refute, Hector Antioch. We can only surmise from your recollections of knowledge of your Galactic Confederation that you had yet to understand the nature of ‘The One’s’ design. We, too, have gone through such changes. We, too, have ‘evolved’ in a way. But what we know in truth is that what you call ‘evolution’ is merely the fruit of the gene pool expressing itself. Your brother, Jack, was planned in the mind of ‘The One’ since creation. His genetic code was always within this figure you call ‘Adam.’ And while you explain to us various cosmological and theological ways of looking at Adam, we would understand this as the Creator’s chosen beginning of your species.
Hector looked at her, thought of arguing, but responded in the way the Adversary would. ‘Creationism was disdained long ago in our Galactic Confederation society. It is error, a illogical way of viewing the Creator’s system.’
‘And did you actually disprove the theory? Did you actually show it to be wrong, or was that just the widely held scientific opinion?’
He considered that. ‘Well, yes. Yes it was a widely held opinion. But it was researched thoroughly.’
‘And was there no opposition.’
‘From the fundamentalists, yes. In fact they still disputed it at the time of the Intervention and beyond.’ Elizabeth finally spoke up. ‘Uh, Can I speak. I actually have a lot of knowledge on this subject.’ Hector looked at her, backed down, and Elizabeth began speaking. ‘Yes, the creation argument was made. I myself think it possible at this stage, and am not adamant completely on evolutionary theory.’ She turned to Hector and spoke. ‘Some of the main arguments are these: Consider the television. Consider the radio. Consider the computer. Consider car. Consider the aeroplane. Consider the CD player. Consider the skyscraper. Now consider that for the first six there is usually a company name on the product. A name pertaining to the designer. And for the seventh, an architect also designed. Now consider that these things are complex systems and did not come about by random Britney. And consider that they have a maker. Now consider the human body – it also is a complex system, with each part being useful and serving a purpose. And consider Psalm 139 which says ‘I am fearfully and wonderfully made.’ King David, a human being, wrote those words. Logic dictates that like the television and the radio. Like the computer and car and so on, all of which have a designer – for the human body there is likewise a design as well. And as it thus has a design, it points to a designer.’
The queen nodded. ‘Yes. A basic argument. Logically thought out.’
‘I would concede that,’ responded Hector. ‘Yet theistic evolution explains such a reality.’
Elizabeth continued. ‘Now consider man’s Genes. We have 23 pairs of chromosomes, and apes have 24. The common argument is that a pair of chromosomes merged together, creating mankind.’
Hector nodded. ‘Generally substantial enough proof of the evolutionary theory.’
Elizabeth continued. ‘Of course, all mankind bears these 23 chromosomes, don’t they Hector?’
He looked at her and nodded. ‘As far as we are aware of, yes they do.’
‘And what does that indicate?’
He looked at her, slightly puzzled. ‘Well, what does it indicate?’
‘Because there are 23 chromosomes for all of us, there must be a common ancestor to all of us.’
‘Uh, well, yes. Generally we hold to such a theory.’
‘Then this common ancestor is Adam and Eve, the point at which 24 became 23.’
‘If you want to call them that,’ said Hector. ‘It still demonstrates evolution.’
‘Actually, no it doesn’t. The merging of the chromosomes simply demonstrates that humans, prior to this point, were in the same family as the apes. Of course today there are still many such families. You see, the standard explanation they give is that Adam and Eve were cursed, that Eve was to thus suffer pain in childbirth, and for God to accomplish this he merged the chromosomes. The idea that they descended from the apes is refuted in other arguments, and they simply state that the animal kingdom has various levels of similar types of animals, such as canine and so on, all looking a bit different, but in the same general structure. Arachnids as an example.’
Hector considered that point. ‘Then what of psychic powers? A Clear demonstration of evolution.’
‘They have argued to me personally that such gifts were always in the gene pool and are simply coming forth.’
‘That is were we would agree,’ stated Queen Lylmandrea. ‘She speaks truly.’
‘Perhaps,’ said Hector. ‘Perhaps.’
The Queen excused them then, and stated she would speak with them again at another point, but let them retire back to their quarters. Watching them go she was happy enough to have learned of a new culture, and considered the possibilities that such humans could bring. Such great and grand possibilities.
* * * * *
They had 700 children, as the eggs continued to re-emerge with the extended life Elizabeth partook of. And then she left off bearing, and they had no more. The Kalstak all surrounded them affectionately and called them their ‘Beloved Brethren’ for it quickly became obvious that the two races were capable of interbreeding, which is were things really began happening genetically.
An enlargement and diversification of a gene pool through the addition of new genetic material is always an interesting thing to observe, but in the case of humans with the long-life genes and the Kalstak, which were beginning to approach a diversification in their gene pool were certain things started happening anyway, when such a two merged together, things really began happening. And, in time, the Kalstak which the Galactic Confederation were familiar with began emerging and the Adversary considered his role. ‘Anger’ spoke with him. It spoke with him, seducing him, tempting him, and suggesting all sorts of wonderful possibilities. ‘Ruling the universe, supreme lord of all, creator of destinies, power over life and death. And the Adversary listened, and succumbed, and accepted the grand and great plot which ‘Anger’ spoke of.
* * * * *
The Atonement would never be complete. The spirit told him as such in his heart. It would never be satisfied, never happy, never at peace with him, until a certain act of submission came. Yet despite the searching of his hear, despite the dark nights of the soul, despite all the questions which were never answered, Hector knew his destiny. And he walked under the guidance of Anger, and atoned when he could, for being the Uniting Force of the universe, being the ‘Prime Axiom’, would have to be his destiny, for he saw no way around the plot of ‘Anger’ and he knew he was its victim and willing slave. He knew it with all his heart, soul and mind.
* * * * *
It was later on. Much later on, in human form again, fishing with Uncle Blake. It was much later on, fishing, having put to rest ‘Hector Antioch’ in the banishment to the ‘Many Coloured Land’ that Prime Axiom was considering life. He was happy, now. Uncle Blake had found peace with his love, and Hector gained ongoing consolation from that friendship. And while his death was still at hand, there was something in the quiet of the night which said ‘Persevere, child.’ And thus Hector, his human form becoming more and more dominant, walked with his uncle Blake, listening to his quiet wisdom, stroking his new pet cat, reading some of his uncle’s classic science fiction stories, working in his uncle’s store, started to feel just a little better about things, life and destiny. And ‘Anger’ was gone. Martin took care of that. And a chapter of his life was completed, gone forever, and perhaps, just perhaps, a new beginning was at hand. A new beginning, full of mystery and the unknown, walking a pathway of destiny not yet trodden down. And a name echoed through his mind. Each and every day a name echoed through his mind. And as he went to bed one night, sleepy, tired, Blake with his companion sleeping soundly in the next room, he wrote down that name. And having written it down, he turned over, and went to sleep. And a little spirit entered the room, a curious one, saw the name ‘Julian’ and disappeared, back off to her friends, family, and all other such things it entertained itself with.
Seasons of Life - Book Two - The Coldest Winter
Blake looked out the window. He was old, now, and the Galactic Confederation had retreated. Arcturians looked to his needs still, though, the friends of Britney being very kind. And now Galagon ruled, the old Confederation lost in memories to the glory of the wisdom of Kevin Kolby. The Kalstak did not intervene any more, a race forgotten, for Intervention had come to be, and man had joined the galaxy in holy unity, but Anger had not been but one – Saruvim servants worked ever at their task, and the revelations had been forgotten, and a more mundane galactic life had come to pass.
And now he saw Ascension as the answer to what Unity had failed to achieve. A more complete mastery of Crystalline Consciousness that Unity had only hinted at.
Yet Prime Axiom studied evolution still, when Creationism from Duat had captured Blake's heart. There was a God, yet Earthmother still feared him. How could all things ever possibly work out for good for those who believe.
Britney believed, though, in the goodness of the One, and that set Blake's heart at rest.
He was old. He felt it in his bones. And not long for this world. Yet Aquamarine spoke with him, about the heart of God, and the spiritual beyond the physical, were life was very similar, and vast Realms dwelt, the Realms of Infinity and Eternity, and others still.
Perhaps he would visit them shortly.
It would be a cold winter, the old man thought to himself. And he never had fallen in love with the cold.
He scruffed his cat, and looked out at the Arcturians mowing old man Blake's lawn.
It would be a cold winter.
Seasons of Life - Book Three - New Beginning
He sat with Britney.
'You don't have long,' she said honestly.
'Even an eternal can die,' said Blake Antioch.
'And now you shall ascend,' she responded.
'A baptism of fire,' he said softly.
'Or glory,' she replied.
'What happens next?' he asked her.
'Sometimes Kevin wonders that. I am sure the One will answer.'
'Can he be trusted. Earthmother never approves. Her long line of masters have always maintained that. And while I am still somewhat Catholic, the Pope does not always speak to my heart as the Earthmother does.'
'I do not know if the One is even this Yahweh. Arcturian faith knows him by many names, and the witness of earth has always been challenging.'
'Yet you should know the heart of Galagon better than any,' he replied.
'Yes,' she said softly.
'I worry about Anger,' he said.
She took his hand. 'May mother Mary, your lady of grace, be with you in your final hour.'
'Alleluia,' replied Uncle Blake.
She took his hand, and he felt better.
Later that afternoon the oldest lived man in regular history departed.
He was buried in a quiet Canadian cemetery in a long reserved plot.
Earth mourned their loss many days.
* * * * *
He awoke. He was in a strange place, and a gap was beside him. He looked down into the gap – the bottom could not be seen, an endless haze.
'Hi,' said a voice.
Blake turned. It was a man. 'Who are you?' he asked.
'Ramiel,' responded the man. 'The Savages will feed you.'
'Where am I?'
'You were a Catholic, weren't you?'
'Then you do the math.'
The man was suddenly gone, and Blake looked at the scenery. Grasslands and trees. A unique landscape. Not earthly. Too – divine – for earth.
A savage appeared. He beckoned to Blake. Blake followed. Soon he was with the main group. An animal was burning above flames. They ripped off a chunk of meat. He ate.
It was 14 weeks, here in this place, this purgation of the soul, for he was thinking on his life and his mistakes.
Ramiel appeared. 'Your ready. There wasn't much to deal with.'
And now?' asked Blake.
'You go home,' responded the Cherubim.
Blake was at the gap. And he decided to climb down, for no reason he could think of. But he was young again, and fit. He started down. He found the cave. Walking along he knew it was nearly over. His work, in a way.
At the portal he stood there, and thought on his life. It had been good. He stepped through.
* * * * *
They were muttering something about the Bradlock's. And then he recognized his fathers voice. He got up from the bed he had been on and wandered into the other room.
'Son,' said his father. 'This is your cousin. Alexander. Alexander Bradlock.'
Blake looked into Alexander's eyes. Those grey eyes. Hector Antioch stared back at him. For it was a likeness of uncanny familiarity.
'Welcome home, son.' and he hugged him.
Blake sat down, and his family surrounded him, and the Hector himself walked in and sat down next to Alexander. And Blake could only be amazed.
Seasons of Life - Book Four – Understanding
Blake Antioch was a Catholic Saint. The Vatican had, recently, in consideration of the life of Blake, updated their list of over 12 billion official saints to now also include Blake Antioch as one of their latest inductees. Pope Benedict John Paul XCVI officiated the canonisation, and Blake was blessed by the Spirit of Jesus, and his sainthood affirmed. Martin congratulated him.
'You aren't fit, you know it. Your too unpredictable to serve the church. Its not your nature.'
'But they have chosen me. They don't ask for much, though. Just that I keep the faith. That I was a godly man and, when the subsequent nature of following generations became more apparent, we were all saints back then. We all kept the actual faith to a degree. Not engrossed in the sins of 23rd century Babylon.'
'Even Blake Antioch,' said Martin, shaking his head.
Alexander Bradlock shook his hand. 'Earthmother won't like this. You have practically betrayed the faith accepting this sainthood.'
'She can live with it. Ascension has yet to occur, and the skeptic in me is satisfied that the miraculous of the way of Ascension is much akin to Jesus early miracles. A spiritual reality, but certainly not the absolute truths of our lives.'
'And what are those truths?' asked his cousin.
'Be loving. Be kind. Be faithful to your occupation, and be in harmony with society. Remember to love people and remember that people like you to be there because often they need you, despite what you may think. That they just need you to be ok. That they just need you to be there.'
'A Moral Lesson?' queried Alexander.
'When all is said and done, it is our morals which survive. Our sin does not. Our sin eats away at us, like it tried to conquer Cain, yet God reminded Cain that he must master it. If we do not master it, we lose. If we compromise, it never stops attacking us. When we resign and submit to the wisdom of Yahweh, we win, and our life becomes orderly, and we see the whole point of it all anyway.'
'Torah, then. Your ultimate conclusion, as you have maintained these past 700 years.'
'Mr Daly. And Lucy, his wife. I fellowship with them, and we discuss Ascension, and Christianity and Torah faith. And we have concluded Torah faith as the wisdom of the Creator, and the safest pathway to eternity.'
'I will look into it one day,' said Alexander Bradlock, his grey eyes showing a flicker of interest.
'I hope Britney Kibb'Star has returned with Kevin. I miss those two.'
'They are your family. Aren't they, Blake. The Daly's and the Kolby's. When you are all together, I notice a unique spirit amongst you.'
'Perhaps it is welcoming you,' said Blake sofly.
Alexander looked at Rogation and spoke to his mind with his psychic abilities. 'Perhaps it is. Yet I rebelled once, and Babylon was my glory. I will await a time, when not so much God has forgiven me, but I have forgiven myself. And then maybe we will partake of divine fellowship. And maybe I will even study Torah.'
Blake grasped Alexander on the shoulder. 'You do that, my son. You do that.'
And Alexader nodded and smiled.
Life in the Confederation
'Life in the Confederation - Lost in the Confederation'
Blake Antioch was on holiday. The peace was there, again, in his heart, in his mind, this grand meta-concert of life, this Unity.
He saw his soul, examined at will, by countless others, all hosts and citizens of the galactic Confederation, all in grand meta-concert, united, examining each and all and every, freely, without hindrance, in love and in mercy.
But Blake knew himself, he was a cranky old soul in many ways - Antiochs were good at that, being cranky - and sometimes, despite the overwhelming sense of joy and peace he felt, especially in his dreams, at night, when soul after soul said hello and loved him, he often wished for that old freedom, that ancient freedom, the freedom of liberty of self, which seemed a forgotten reality in this brave new world.
And then 'Spacula' the Simbiari approached him, and said 'Do you want to be free Blake? Let me show you how.'
And the alien entered his mind, and turned away Unity, with a strange power, a strange psychic sense, and Blake felt that old feeling - solitariness, isolation - aloneness.
had - forgotten this,' he said to Spacula, as they sat in his old
bookshop, his cat on his knee, stroking it gently. 'Are you able to
keep it like this Spacula?'
'I can teach you how it is achieved,' replied Spacula. 'How to say no to the voices, to the Unity, how to be your own self, how to live your own freedom. But they will watch you - believe me - they will watch you then. For there is no freedom from the Galactic Confederation and their psychic watchdogs, no matter how much you may crave it.
Blake sat up late at nights after that, considering Spacula's offer. The Unity had returned, and they continued to bless him with peace and love and they examined his libertarian spirit and they all said 'Whatever Blake' and nobody seemed to mind, for love was supreme.
But Blake yearned still for his freedom. And it was a choice he would make soon enough.
'Life in the Confederation - Reborn'
The Adversary looked at his fingers. Prime Axiom looked at his fingers, and a small, quiet voice said, in his head, 'What happens when you have atoned?'
The fingers were real. They were his fingers. They were HIS fingers.
Hector Antioch left the hangar of the Poltroyan Spaceport in Ottowa City, were he was currently a guest, and walked. He walked, down the runway for a while, daring to risk life, and not caring anyway. And then he got to the end of the airport, and climbed the fence, despite the barb wire, and the blood shed, which somehow he didn't mind, and found a stream nearby and drank water.
12 months later he found old Blakee, and knocked on the door.
The door opened and Hector was instantly shocked. 'I can't read your bloody mind, Blake!' he exclaimed.
'Your human again, aren't you,' said Uncle Blake. 'I'd heard the rumours.'
'The more things change,' said Hector, and wandered inside at Blake's invitation.
'Who says, in the end, we need it. You know,' continued Blake. 'The gland climax of mankind's evolutionary odyssey. Who says we need it. Me, for one - well, I don't. I've gotten used to the isolation again, and, you know what. It was joy, the unity, but this? This freedom? Bliss. Freedom to be me, and think whatever the hell Blake Antioch wants to think.'
'I'm not sure if I'm one to lecture you anymore,' replied Hector, who was enjoying the purring cat on his lap. 'I sense it with me, but here, it's like it hardly can come in.'
'I have strength here - its built up a lot in the last few years. A lot of strengh. I keep everything I can at the kerb, and let nothing in if I can help it. This is MY kingdom. This is MY freedom. Not for the galactic Confederation to dictate the comings and goings and thoughts of Blake Antioch.'
Hector Chuckled. 'As if they ever could, uncle Blake. As if they ever could.'
'I'm happy, as well. It's better now. And I've got old contacts. INTERESTED old contacts, from various organisations, who like what I represent. And, no, we are not the anti-metapsychic rebellion. We are just who and what we always damn were as people. As simple as that.'
'Then so may it always be,' replied Hector Antioch. 'So may it always be,' finished the Adversary.
'Life in the Confederation - Wrath'
'I'm Wrath, Hector.'
'What are you?' responded Hector Antioch.
'Your conscience. Hah. That's good. You don't have one. My furious cousin spoke well of Martin, but you are so much more interesting. So much more - potential.'
Hector didn't like this voice in his head, which seemed to be taking over him in the last few weeks. It seemed to be - controlling.
'What do you want?' asked Hector.
'Oh, you know. Chaos, misfortune, evil in general. Standard commission of hell. We know, though, an Adversary when we meet one. You are that, aren't you Hector. An adversary. Face it, buster. You're not a conformist in the end. Your too brilliant for that.'
'Hell is not exactly the agenda of a Roman Catholic,' responded Hector, trying to dismiss the voice from his head.
'Oh, you can't get rid of me,' said Wrath. 'Not even the fasting of a female catholic priest will break my grip on you, child.'
'I don't serve the devil,' said Hector, trying to force the voice into submission.
'But you're so much like him. In so many ways, you know. Well versed in how stupid men really are. How unfit for - life - they really are. I mean, why even bother with 99% of them, you know. Dullards. Psychic shit. Homo Inferior in every way, buster.'
'I might not disagree with that,' replied Hector. 'But it hardly warrants what you are probably driving at.'
'How about choose your own adventure,' suggested Wrath. 'We can have a bit of fun. Poke fun at this Confederation establishment. They are soooo boring and uptight. I can show you how to have a hell of time with them all. Believe me, buster.'
'I know an exorcist, you know,' replied Hector.
'Oh, phooey,' responded Wrath. 'That would spoil all our good and wholesome fun. Can't cause a galactic rebellion with an exorcist hanging around.'
'Galactic rebellion?' queried Hector.
'Oh, you know,' said Wrath. 'Mankind making war on the rest of the Confederation. Ruling supreme. Just your destiny, and all that. An adversary never really changes his spots, you know. Sure, atone away forever. You'll never change what you are. The way HE made you.'
'Shut up,' said Hector, not wanting to hear anymore. But Wrath continued, and Hector listened despite himself.
'You'll never bring the kind of change to this galaxy with your current efforts. Most of those races think humanity sucks anyway. Simbiari think your second rate versions of themselves. Thick and stupid ogres, humans, I've heard them say.'
'The Confederation is in peace,' said Hector.
'But that's just it. And peace is boring. Liven it up. Give them some news headlines. What's life without a bit of chaos, hey, buster.'
Hector sat there, hating what he was hearing, but a small part of him was tempted. Because he was an adversary - and he didn't even like the establishment in many ways, his OWN establishment. So he listened.
And Wrath made HER case.
'Life in the Confederation - The Serpents of Gehenna'
In the Negev desert in south Israel, there was a small cave, were the earthworm made his home. The Devilspawn himself. The ancient serpent. If you followed the cave to its end, there were pools of water, and through one of them it dipped downwards for a little, and then upwards again into an antechamber, which ran underneath a mountain range, and became a large cavern, full of molten lava, and the worst of all creatures - the Serpents of Gehenna. Satan ruled them. He always had and always would, but Anger was there also, and Abaddon, and Wrath. And other also. For they were the cursed ones, the seed of Satan the Serpent, the demonkind, who tormented humanity. Wrath was a bitch of a serpent, and she was under the agenda of Satan to corrupt the Prime Axiom. Satan loved corrupting mankind, and his agenda never really changed. Barring the apocalypse, he would go on tormenting them forever, but who really believed that old fable. Wrath enjoyed her work, she had never really known any other, and the corrupting of Hector had begun and was going as planned. And that plan was chatoic war and intergalactic conflict on a devastating scale, so they did desire. The Serpents of Gehenna were a fallen race, and would never quite be redeemed, and Wrath herself, with all her cool charm, yet diabolical undertone, was particularly fallen and enjoyed every little bit of it. But Gehenna sucked, and when the Pope got on his throne and bound the darkness for a while, the serpents slithered back to their Gehenna home, to plot and plan once more, and to dwell in the pits of darkness, and calculate the next chapter in their cruel and savage torments. Anger had achieved much, but it was now Wrath's turn, and Abaddon, lord of the bottomless pit, would undoubtedly be back to his old tricks soon enough. For hell indeed hath Anger, as well as wrath, and evil never got tired of its vengeful and ancient machinations.
'Life in the Confederation - Redux'
It had been rumoured, and here it was. The timehole reopened, somehow. But this time, it ran the other way. Back to the future. That is what had been surmised, and Ronan stood there, in front of the one way trip he had made all those years ago, ready to be bold once more. Did it go exactly were it came from? Was it the universes way of correcting itself. Was it a small act of mercy from God. He didn't really know. But he took of his golden torc, and walked to the timehole, and waited, and was gone soon enough, and was gone from the Pliocene era forever.
He looked around. He was not in France. But the smell of the place was like home. He surmised he was in Scotland. He found a small town at the bottom of the hill from where he descended, and the town residents gave him a funny look, and he found a newspaper. It was a bit later than when he had left, and the Confederation was still well in charge, but life was mostly the same as usual from the looks of it. He thought of home, Caledonia, but would they accept the return of a fallen exile? Instead he did the most practical of things. He found the town library, forged a fake UK birth certificate on the printer, found the social security office, said he'd been 'Off the grid' for years, and they gave him a suspicious look, but provided him with temporary accommodation and the unemployment benefit.
And now a new beginning, but something was stirring in his psychic conscience, and a new plan was afoot. Something told him he would be a sovereign again soon enough. Soon enough indeed.
the kid?' asked Serge.
'His name is Ronan. He's a trouble maker,' said Mack.
'Aren't we all,' replied Serge.
'There's something weird about him. I get vibes. When I'm talking to him, it's like I feel my mind being read, or my thoughts being extracted. It's fucking nuts.'
'Schizo cunt, is he?' asked Serge, the leader of the brat pack. 'Schizophrenia – sign of the next stage in evolution, some people say. Will come into your family, and you'll be one of those psycho wizards of the new order.'
'Your the pscyho wizard,' said Mack, chuckling.
'I'll psycho your butt if your not careful buddy,' replied Serge, and glared at Ronan, sitting in the cafeteria of the delinquent's home, by himself, eating his lunch.
'I think I'll talk to the faggot,' said Serge.
'He'll zonk you,' said Mack.
'We'll see,' replied the tough guy.
faggot? Do you take it up the arse, or what?'
Ronan turned to the hostile head kid of the juvie jail. He did not look friendly. Tall, big muscles, and a nasty look on his face most of the time. A perfect one to mes around with.
'What you doing in a place like this?' asked Serge. 'You didn't enjoy fucking your grandma enough that you had to do a cow or something, and get seen?'
'Only the ones you do first,' replied the cheeky Ronan, and his mind started connecting to Serge. He looked through, and found what he needed.
Serge sat down.
'I run the show, punk' said Serge to Ronan.
'How's your uncle?' Ronan asked Serge. Serge, suddenly, looked guilty.
'What uncle, dildo?' he asked him.
'Uh, Michael wasn't it. The one you had that run in with.'
'Who the fuck told you about that?' asked Serge, ready to reach over and punch Ronan.
'I read it. In your aura,' said Ronan. He was lying. He read Serge's thoughts. It was a – power – within him. He didn't talk about it, and it was latent most of the time, but he could sense thought, ideas in peoples head, especially guilty secrets. He saw them in his mind. He was a wizard, he knew it. Or worse – a psychic or something.
'Did you enjoy sucking his cock?' asked Ronan.
Serge reached over and grabbed Ronan by the arms. 'If you EVER tell anyone what me and my uncle did, I will fucking kill you.'
'Sure buddy,' said Ronan, Grinning madly.
Serge stood, and glared at Ronan. 'You are fucking weird, kid. Fucking weird.' And he walked off, leaving a happy Ronan Bassingthwaite, member of Lockwood County Juvenile home, and current troublemaker of the community for far too many as far as society was concerned.
Ronan Bassingthwaite II
Ronan was free. Released from Juvie, 15 years old, a life to lead. Lockwood county, on this planet he lived, was his home for a while now, and he intended to make it his home no longer. He was thinking big – intuitively – psychically. He wanted a piece of the pie, so was heading for 'Dragonsturm City', the capital of the country he lived in. In Dragonsturm he knew a guy who was connected to the people you needed to be connected to. This of the underground world, real bastards, who killed for a living, and excited themselves with sex, drug and rock and roll. Ronan's kind of people.
He looked in his wallet – it still had the remains of his last dole cheque before he had gone into Juvie. So, with the wind in his sails, he shouldered his backpack, stuck out his thumb, and continue walking down the highway headed for Dragonsturm.
The prostitute wasn't much to look at, and Ronan's virginity was gone, but he kissed her and felt her mind. She'd been with countless lovers, the old hag, and Ronan was just another joe on just another nights work. Hag? Well, she was actually reasonably attractive for a lady in her mid 30s, but it wasn't exactly what Ronan wanted. But what was he going to do? Complain? The other broad in the brothel looked practically 50, and she had all sorts of acne scars. No thanks mate.
He looked in his wallet as he walked back onto the nightstrip street. Not much cash. Where did his friend live again? What was that address?
He found a phonebooth with a miraculous telephone book still in it, and found a map inside. And then it clicked over in his mind – his gift – and instantly he found where he was meant to be going, and his mind knew how to take him there. Almost by instinct.
few hours later he knocked on a door, and Jack Smith opened it,
looked at his old buddy, and grabbed him by the hand and shook
'Peace, bro,' said the black skinned adolescent of about 19. 'You here to party?'
'I'm here to party,' nodded Ronan.
'Then come in, mon. Come in. And don't mind the reggae. I'll be playing it now, just for you, you hear. Just for you, mon.'
Ronan went inside, and he found his new home – at least for the next 2 years anyway.
It was partying, drug dealing, boozing, broading and reggae. Bob Marley owned the home by the looks of it. And Jack was whack, and got whacked every night, in the central living room which had no windows, were the smoke was thick at night, and Jack's girlfriend, Veronica, in her eternal miniskirt and bikini, always gave Ronan that funny look, as if she were up for it. And one afternoon, when Jack was out dealing, she was. Ronan found he liked brown sugar, and wrote her name in his heart for a while.
His mind, though, was alive. With sensory data. Drugs only seemed to highlight it, and he was instinctively cutting out newspaper articles of the Confederation on psychic awareness. He felt, somewhere inside this nonborn kid, there was a power, but it was latent. Somehow that was true. But he had the seersmanship of the ancient crafts in him anyway, but still he longed for something more. A greater connection to that mystery which ran through creation.
He noticed a torc, one afternoon, at the 'Celtic Glory' souvenir shop down the road. And he touched his neck, and reacted as if somehow it was important, but did not understand why. Could not understand why. And he drew pictures of them, and fancied himself a warrior, and thought in his heart he had this great, big and fantastic destiny.
And then he got back to his dealing, and his drug use, and rock and roll. And Veronica. He got back to Veronica.
But still there was something deeper. Still there was something which nagged at him. Some plan or some life or some destiny. Something. Something which knew his potential and knew exactly what and who he was.
And knew exactly where he would be soon enough.
Ronan Bassingthwaite III
The dark metal bludgeoned on the speakers – Poisonblack, Ronan's favourite. He looked at Veronica, naked in front of him, and as he went down and 'Nothing Else Remains' blasted away, he felt the darkness, and an absence of light, and as he tasted her dark fire, he knew he should fear.
'Bitch? You been unfaithful?' asked Jack, looking at the condom on the floor, as they smoked weed.
Veronica looked guilty. 'It's just been me and Ronan all day.'
Jack looked at Ronan, who sort of gave a shrug. 'Look, man. She was asking me for it all the time. You know, I had to.'
'You cunt,' swore Jack. And suddenly, in a moment of madness, he took out his blade and lunged at Ronan.
It happened instantly – immediately – and it must have been the fire which remained also. As if in protection of his person, a power locked onto Jack's mind, coerced him, and made him turn the blade on himself, and plunge it into his own stomach.
As he lay there, bleeding away, his eyes looked heavenwards.
'Fuck, hey. So short a fucking life,' said Jack, as Veronica was in tears, and Ronan just looked down upon his dying mate.
'Such is life,' said Jack. And was gone.
The police were suspicious. They weren't buying the suicide claim and, not for the first time, Ronan Bassingthwaite's name was recorded, linked with suspicious activity, and society was starting to question just how much it needed this particular citizen hanging around.
'I'm moving on,' he told Veronica. 'This city – is dead. I need a new start.'
She reached out and touched his shoulder. 'Wait. I bought you something.' She rushed inside, and soon returned, with that torc from the souvenir shop.
'You might need this,' she said, smiling.
He looked at it, and for a moment he was going to take it, but thought better of it.
'Keep it. You could probably use it. I have a feeling, whatever it is about that thing, I'll know soon enough. Soon enough.'
'Seeya dickhead,' she said smiling.
'Seeya bitch,' he replied, reached out and touched her cheek, and was gone. Off with the wind, again searching, again looking for where Ronan Bassingthwaite fitted in the world.
Ronan Bassingthwaite IV
14, when he had returned from his attempted flight to Caledonia,
Ronan Bassingthwaite had stood before his surrogate parents. He was a
nonborn, and they said to him, 'Shiverton needs real people, Ronan.
You have freedom, now, for 4 years. Come home when you are 18. When
you have sown your wild oats. Maybe that will get this knavish way
out of you.'
And so Ronan wandered the towns of Shiverton, his homeworld, and met Jack Smith, and did time in Juvie at 15, and then hooked up with Jack for a while in his place in the Capital Drangsturm.
But he was 18 now, and they knew who he was, and a counsellor had found him in a back street alley, were he was smoking weed, and said to him 'Go home Ronan Bassingthwaite. We'll see if we can make a man of you yet.'
And so Ronan went home.
Jonathon Angus Bassingthwaite was proud of his son Ronan. But he was also ashamed. When the lad walked in door and said 'How the fuck are you then?' he was not greatly surprised – more saddened than anything.
Jonathon spoke with Jessica.
'He hasn't changed. The freedom we have given him has only confirmed that inner voice of rebellion he listens to.'
Jessica, Ronan's surrogate mother, sadly agreed.
Engineering school didn't change much, although he was naturally talented, and had all the potential in the world, so his lecturers told Mr and Mrs Bassingthwaite.
'But he is such a damn nuisance. A penchant for practical jokes like I've never seen. It is like there is this high class of intelligent savage within him which mocks us all for our mere 'human' ways, and grants no respect to the lessers he must associate with. He's a misfit. As simple as that.'
He got to 21, and Shiverton, a proud member of the Galactic Confederation, had had enough.
'You have 3 options,' the Confederation elitist said to Ronan.
'Shiverton correctional institution can house you permanently. Alternatively, you can have a docilization unit implanted psychosurgically.'
'Charming,' responded Ronan. 'What's the third option?'
'You can always choose Euthanasia,' said the Confederation official, a sarcastic grin on his face. Ronan was not impressed.
Ronan spat on the ground next to him and looked at the official. 'On Earth. The time gate. Back to the ancient world. Exile. Is that an option?'
The Confederation looked at the person of Ronan Bassingthwaite, and considered the eternal potential ramifications to the heart of the timestream which such a decision might make. And then he looked at the character assessment report in front of him and the trouble he had caused Shiverton.
'We'll book you on the next flight,' said the official.
'Wonderful,' replied Ronan. 'Bloody wonderful.'
Aquamarine and Mishnay on the shores of Parallel
'I miss Callodyn,' said Aquamarine softly.
Mishnay looked at the blue crystals shimmering on the shore of parallel, and enjoyed the great blessing of their energy flowing into him, enhanced even more so by the presence of the Elemental herself.
'You know. I know people who will pay trillions of credits for such gems, Aqua,' he said.
She did not say anything initially. But then, 'Britney Kibb'Starr is an honourable lady. I do not trade my prizes easily, but her service to Galagon for so long has stabilized the planets like the wisdom and patience of no other. I did not hold her Arcurian blood against her, for I well know how they covet such prizes. But her love and commitments deserved such grace.'
'Her consciousness is elevated to great levels now, I think. Because of your kind graces. She is a champion of Ascension. Like Lucy Smith, whose Rainbows of knowledge are unspeakably beautiful, Britney is a glorious Mistress of Ascension.'
'The universe favours her,' responded Aquamarine.
'You miss Callodyn,' he finally responded.
'His touch. Our son Cyril visits me often and relays word, yet Callodyn still has so much passion for life. His ascension is seemingly an eternal work. Eternities beyond eternities before he will settle and breathe in the divine energy he needs.'
'You never spoke of it to him, though. Only in recent times is he aware of your elementalism.'
'Why should we speak so freely to Angelickind? Few of them ever really understood. The power of Yahweh's fear they were eternally consumed with. Only now do they seek enlightenment. Only now do they seek understanding. Nay, they are still riddled with Delenth pride. Still reptillian servants.'
'They know their own mind,' he responded. 'Things change, you know. What once was is not as it necessarily always will be.'
'Because of the power of ascension,' she stated with serene confidence.
'Will you go to him?' he asked her.
She lay there, on the shores of parallel, yet answered not.
'In time, maybe, Mishnay. In time maybe.'
'Then all is as it should be,' he responded.
'Yes, all is as it should be,' she replied.
And so they lay there, enshrouded in ecstacy, the waves of the sea incessantly completing their duty.
Wormdog and Mishnay
'Woof,' said Wormdog. 'I am the devourer of worlds.'
'3 Aces,' responded Mishnay.
'And you expect to Ascend with 3 Aces?' responded Wormdog. 'I have visited the Realm of the Ascended ones. They don't gamble what you have offered on 3 Aces. How many civilizations do you administer now anyway?'
'785,' responded Mishnay. 'But the wager is for 3 of them.'
'I shall devour your 3 worlds, and my dominion shall be magnificent.'
'With what?' queried Mishnay.
Wormdog laid down three 2'.
'Three 2's do not defeat three Aces,' said Mishnay.
'But if I add a pair of 3's,' he responded, laying down two 3's to make a full house.
'Mmm,' said Mishnay. 'Juliette, Quternika and Thardray.' He handed over the 3 royal signets to Wormdog, who now ruled an Empire.
'They are in the same Juliendarra system. I shall miss them.'
'Did you know them well?' asked Wormdog, examining the royal signets of his new planets.
'Reasonably. But we were not a close family. They were much latter offspring. There are other families there, but mostly my seed. Anglo-Irish for the most part. So how big is your Empire now?'
'3 planets,' said Wormdog, still examining the Signets. 'They will accept my authority?'
'They will need to see the Signets. I will inform them, naturally.'
Wormdog nodded. Then a spirit of grace came over him. 'Here,' he said, handing back the rings. 'I couldn't usurp authority over your offspring. It wouldn't be right, Mishy.'
Mishy looked at Wormdog strongly. 'We are very dedicated to honour, and the pathway of Ascension. I will honour the wager. The signets are yours Wormdog.'
Wormdog nodded. He knew such truths lay in the heart of Mishnay.
'I will allow Yahweh authority over them. You know that, don't you?'
Mishnay sighed. 'If that is the way it must be, Wormdog.'
'You don't know him as I do. He is not what you claim. He never was.'
'Yet you know him not as I do,' responded Mishnay. 'Life is more than Yahweh. The universe has infinite beings of great and true power.'
'Yenwah teaches you this. She teaches you this constantly. I know this,' responded Wormdog.
'Then why do you question?' responded Mishnay.
'Yet in the Realm of the Ascended, who rules the paradigms of reality?'
'It is simply the way of things,' responded Mishnay. He looked at his rings, scolded himself for the wager, but still agreed he'd had a good hand. And access to some of the deeper secrets of Parallel was worth the risk.
'Another game some time?' asked Wormdog.
'We shall see,' responded Mishnay. 'We shall see.'
The Origin of the Adversaries
'In a perfect universe, only good could ever exist,' continued the Earthmother to the hushed audience. 'But every choice creates action, every word and deed, and in the life of the Universe the power of the Adversaries came about because not every decision, even of the Architects, but also all sentient and other beings, is wise, and all these actions create energy and spirit, and also the simple power of life inherent in the eternal cosmos itself, begets creatures and beings which will not necessarily choose the good. This, we are taught, and we believe, is the origin of the Adversaries. They came into being, fashioned by our ill thoughts, but like the Architects, also their will to be. Their lust for life and existence – good and evil – all from their own inherent will.'
'They are not always necessarily for the evil. Not every choice. I have had Seraphim converse with me, and they speak noble thoughts also, and claim Yahweh is a being of good. Yet we know his ways, well, don't we?'
The audience murmured knowingly of the ways of Yahweh and his Ecclesiastical servants, the mass and common faith still amongst the children of Men.
'It is the will to be in the heart of this eternal cosmos, that idea which permeates the all of existence, which brings forth life, and from which the Architects first, and later, the Adversaries, came to be. Yet if more, one day perBritney, came into existence, what could we really say?'
'We do not hold all the answers to the mystery of life, and this is the faith and truth we have received in our community, to which we hold dear. And we must cherish and preserve these truths on our pathway to Ascension, for we must choose the good, to fashion life in appropriate ways, for the sake of the deepest loves in our hearts, our cherished ones, and all those who desire Ascension.'
And she bowed, and the audience clapped softly, and the words of wisdom and truth had been spoken.
The Completed Universe
'Very well. I shall tell them.' The elemntal disappeared, and the Earthmother steeled herself. The answer they had awaited upon for countless aeons.
'Full Ascension, of all creatures, is the end of the Universe in many ways,' she began. 'For when the enlightenment of all races, all galaxies, the entire cosmos, has come to pass, then we will be ready for Ascension. The Architects vision is eternal, but the waiting for fruition of our hope is nearly that as well – eternal. Beyond Unity is the completion of our journey. What began at Unity, in our birth, will end with Ascension, and the tranmogrification of all into the Realm of the Ascended ones. Yet our work is still ahead of us, and will be countless aeons yet. There is still much to do, much ascension principle to teach, and the world and many others are still in the power of the Adversaries. It is an an ancient battle we are involved with, and the truth – to overcome – must be fought for with hope in our hearts and love embelleshing all we say and do. But we shall triumph at the end of all things, and life eternal in the Realm of Ascension is our reward for our struggles. Yet the timing is not guaranteed, for the ebb and flow of life prevents full Ascension reaching its pinnacle until the heart of all has been won. It will take time, and struggle, yet we are well equipped for this. My children, study the truths you have received, and act in patience, for one day we all will taste true unity and the power of the mysteries of all and infinity.'
Burn: The Running
Gavin was there. And then he was gone, and she couldn't hold the vision, but she reached out and yelled 'Gavin! Stay!' but the clouds turned away the vision, and then it was Broken, her lover, and he looked at her with love, but instantly the clouds turned the vision of her lover to dark demonic faces, who leered at her.
'Master Draven will destroy you,' said one of them.
'No woman opposes the Order of Things,' said another, and they came towards her and bit at her, and she felt the darkness on her flesh, and she ran from the Temple, and she ran through the streets of Sydney, running like the wind, but they were at her heels. But she ran.
15 minutes later she screamed up the steps, up to her apartment, and slammed the door shut, and placed the golden candle in front of it, and lit it, and they screeched behind the door for a while, and then silence. Deathly silence.
She gradually caught her breath from the running, and sat down, but looked at the door, as if the dark demons were about to break through at any moment.
Broken came home that evening.
'Madame President,' he said to her, bowing slightly as he came in the door.
'It's not a fitting title any more. My time in that work passed 5 years ago,' replied Tina. 'I'm just a patron of the Almighty.'
He looked at her. 'What's wrong?'
'They attacked me again. At the temple again. They know what we are doing, and how we are gathering strength to change the universe.'
'You are of the Elect of Light, the chosen ones of the Celestial Prime Angel Toraniel, firstborn of all angels. Draven knows his time is short,' said Broken, and looked at the fallen candle from where he had come through the door. He picked it up and put it on the table. 'Change is not easy, Tina. Good things must be fought for. Some will not let go of the old without a fight.'
'And I have to run from them and their wrath,' replied Tina hotly. 'It pisses me off. I can't stand them. And they mocked me with a showing of Gavin.'
Broken sat down next to her. 'Gavin is dead. He lies in Sheol, or the next world, for we can not judge either the living or the dead unto their salvation, for God alone knows. It was demonic trickery. Assure yourself of that being the truth.'
'We shall gather soon enough,' replied Tina. There was fierce pride on her face. 'And we'll teach Draven, and let him know his time is at an end, and that the worlds of life have moved on. His old ways shall be no more.'
'Perhaps,' said Broken softly, and looked at his copy of his sacred text in the bookcase. 'Perhaps that may be true.'
'It is,' she said assuring him. 'Reform must come. Old things die, new life is born.'
'Yet some things are eternal, and my faith it must be,' replied Broken.
'Some faith is eternal,' replied Tina. 'Yet I am not sure that all the sacraments of chastity and holiness are to be clinged to. There are many a vestment of pride I think hath had its day.'
'So says Madame President,' replied Broken.
'So says Madame President,' replied Tina softly, smiling tenderly at her beloved.
The Elect of Light
Draven surveyed the field in front of the Castle of Darkness, Solitary Point, as he called it. Here, in a dark world, away from light almost, dwelt Draven. Lord Draven, bane of all things good and holy. Desirer of conquering all things good and decent to enthrone his absolute authority upon creation. And why? Just for the hell of it, kemosabe.
'There they are, Lord Draven,' said his faithful aide, the demon Artichoke.
'I do see them, underling,' replied Draven.
'The Elect of Light,' said Artichoke. 'Gathered, as the prophecy declares, for the final Battle at the end of Time and Space.'
'Invite them up,' said Draven.
A few hours later the 700 were gathered in a large chamber, where Draven sat at the head, on a throne, drinking wine.
'I see your spiritual weapons. Your diadems of glory, your artefacts of immortality. Yet what of it? Why should I yield? I could stand your offenses eternal if I should choose.'
'This is doubtful,' said Tina.
'Nay, impossible,' said Callodyn.
'The Weaver of Harmony Strands thinks himself invincible, I think,' said Draven. 'But he is only mortal, I am sure.'
'He is strong enough alone, as all of us are, to defeat you, Draven,' said the Leetharck.
'Our trials have been long and difficult,' said Fiona.
'We have conquered much,' said Rebecca.
'Your time has come,' said Brindaby.
'And you shall be defeated,' said Jenkins.
Draven glared at them all. He knew it true, as well. His time had come to an end. His malevolence should be no more.
'Then let me be,' said Draven. 'You have conquered the power of all my vortexes and avenues upon reality. All my ways of attack are gone from me. Leave me be. Let me rest in peace,' he said, with a heavy sigh.'
'We have a place for you,' said Tina.
'A quiet room,' said Callodyn. 'In a palace surrounded with eternal strands of immortality. You shan't escape it.'
'But we give you your life,' said the Leetharck. Until the counting down of your days.'
'And then you too shall rest, as we all shall,' said Jenkins. 'And play cricket no more.'
Draven nodded. 'Then such is life, elect of light. Such is life.'
'And all shall now be well,' said the Earthmother. 'All shall now be well.'
And it was.
Saruviel surveyed the the Multiverse from Underworld Red Fortune Hotel. Underworld Red Fortune Hotel was built in solid red dirt in a section of the realm of infinity, at the bottom of the dirt of the Realm, where space interceded. From this point upwards, he could look down on the 7th Heavenly Realm of the Multiverse. It was a galaxy of galaxies, all spread out, with divisions in space which were the end of the universe, each of the Universes of the Multiverse. One might call them the great barriers, which none could cross, because beyond them lay another reality, similar at times to the one one was present within. Too much confusion without the divisions. Saruviel had long understood that truth. Down there were the projects alread begun, and a grand culmination with Draven had occurred, and peace had been restored. But even now were new seeds being born. Seeds which would increase the number of Universes of the Multiverse to a Jubilee of Glory. The 50 Universes of the Multiverse. Even then it may not necessarily be the end, but that was the agenda now, the work at hand, and the seeds in the heart of his soul had been thinking and cogitating and planning in their inspiration, ready to fashion the new life which was soon enough at hand. And so reflecting on the work he had done so far and what had been achieved, he worked on new complementive worlds to achieve the Jubilee, and his time in Infinity at the moment, in the Underworld Red Fortune Hotel was achieving just that.
THE END of the CHILDREN OF MEN