MANDATES OF DIVINITY

EPISODE 10

Episode Ten

You’re pretty.

Take off your clothes

And take pride in what you’ve become,

The marvel you always have been.

-The Godling                 

The Love Vespers

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The spray from the ocean was soothing to Bernard. He felt the same for his friends. Athion would wallow in the mud and then roll over to the waters to rinse himself, only to repeat the process again. Betty stood on a floating raft, engaging herself with the creatures from the sea, who came to kiss her feet. Watt simply sunbathed.

The spray from the ocean still had the cooling effect, pulling him over like a magnet. Bernard didn’t need to pull of his garment. He simply dived right in, savoring the effect of the splash on his skin. As an afterthought, he decided to try out one of Father Bayo’s favorite maxims about water being a very potent cleansing agent on a spiritual level.

It never made sense to him to draw parallels between the subtle and the mundane. He felt physical elements are physical means only for physical ends. Spiritual principles should operate on another level. Of course, he never faced Father Bayo squarely with his opinions, given how much the priest knew about the sacred words. He was called “Keeper of The Secret” for a reason. Whatever the secret was, Bernard couldn’t figure but he was pretty sure it had something to do with the Godling.

Bernard hung suspended under the water currents, shifting his focus on his body. He tried to absorb the water into his skin, recite and meditate a sacred verse and find out what happens from there.

He found out something else…

There was a gold tunnel deep in the waters. It bore light within, evoking a strange aura around it. It seemed to be the source of the ocean for it constantly spewed forth water, merging uniformly with the current of the ocean, causing absolutely no ripple which was strange to Bernard.

He switched thoughts. If this was the secrets of the ocean, then he’d better find out. That would be one over Father Bayo. With one fell-swoop, he slid right into the golden tunnel.

There was no transition, no blackout. He just stopped the slide. In fact, he wasn’t even sliding in the first place. He just stood there, a little dizzy, drifting in and out. When he found his balance, Bernard discovered he was in the Pristine Chapel, he recognized it from Father Bayo’s paintings.

The chapel is the domain of the church’s secrets, where the Sanctus Primus makes their decisions. It is also said to be a fortress, housing the war defects from the last Dark Invasion that occurred over two centuries ago. It was rumored that the cursed ones couldn’t penetrate the walls of the chapel. Their persistence was finally deemed enough sin by the Giver, of which at that very moment he took from them, rendering them powerless and easily routed.

In the very walls of the chapel where Bernard stood was a veteran of that memorable event, along with his three colleagues. He could see Betty, still drifting in and out, her head swaying like a drunk. Watt and Athion seemed fresh from the swaying. The veteran was holding Betty still so she would return fully to consciousness. She did in no time. And that was when Bernard saw that it was not just a veteran, but a commander of veterans during the invasion, their very own unit coach…

“Your grace.” Bernard mumbled in awe.

Xandar’s return stare was icy.

“You’ve all failed to show me how special you really are. Follow me.”

He walked ahead of them to a golden dome crafted in the middle of the vast chapel. It glittered without any reflecting source either within or without its perimeters. The four stared at the dome with their mouths wide agape.

“I was here.” Betty was reflecting. “Only, it was the moon.”

Bernard recoiled for a moment.

“I thought it was the beach, wasn’t it?”

Betty returned a confused stare.

“What beach?”

“I guess you all have poor memories then. How can you guys forget that we were sucking sun juice?” Watt put on a mixture of ecstasy and confusion.

The others were shocked at Watt’s statement. Athion reeled into a fit of laughter. The laughter was so magnetic that Betty and Bernard couldn’t help but laugh too. They giggled their bellies out trying to make sense out of Watt’s statement.

“It’s our first meeting,” the whisper on Xandar’s voice was cold. “And you have succeeded in your attempt to disappoint me. Look at you all. Prospects of the exalted state of godhood and you cannot even control your balance in the dream state. I had to wake the Bride of Heaven in heaven.” He really was disappointed, this was why he engaged the Arch Bishops in the first place. The Lesser Bishops were building a spineless force. He made that last statement with a penetrating gaze at Betty. Betty felt a lump in her throat staring back at Xandar.

“Wait,” Bernard wanted to be sure. “Are we currently dreaming?”

“Not anymore,” Xandar replied and turned towards the huge golden dome. “You’re currently customizing it according to your inner strength. Your first encounters dancing on the moon, rolling in the beach or sipping sun juice, whatever that is. All are indicators of the level of consciousness you currently operate in. It indicates your thoughts, feelings, emotions and aspirations all wrapped up in a giant ball. And each ball is unique to everyone.”

He let them ingest that for a moment. “Join me to explore the worlds of soul.” He opened his arms in warm embrace, signaling them to gather around the dome.

The four joined him around the golden dome, staring at its sharp yet gentle luster. It’s polished surface smooth enough to host their reflections. Xandar’s reflection was most regal on the golden dome. He stood silently like the others, as though he wanted everyone to absorb the penetrating light.

“What does it all mean?” Watt probed on, seeking to redeem himself.

 “That was the question I was expecting from you.” He said wearily. “The fact you’re gifted doesn’t mean you’re bound to have knowledge or that you’ll ever have a grasp on it.”

That was meant to be harsh. The four felt the bite in the statement and immediately the junk of humor in the throats of Betty, Bernard and Athion washed off. The silence that followed was quite long. Fully satisfied that he had earned their attention rightfully, he began:

“What you’re looking at is the model of the human soul, as instructed by the Godling himself during his First Manifestation. The human soul, he said, never stops searching even after it has answers, just as this dome seems like the perfect circle without being a complete circle. He called it, ‘the perfect soul’s imperfect quest for perfection.’ ‘The ever thirsty camel in a fountain of water that needs milk; the predatory lion that wants the cud.’”

Xandar gave a faint and distant smile. Touching the surface of the dome and letting his hands glide over the surface, he continued.

“While the soul is always perfect, it is viewed only through the lenses of the flesh, those vestiges of humanity that pulls it down. Hence the reflections. We can only see our imperfect selves on the screen of this dome. Only the saints are trained to shift focus away from the reflections and see the clear, polished, unblemished surface of the soul. The perfect creation of the giver. This is the training of the Bishops. One that you’re privileged to go through.”

He let that sink in again, waiting to see if they understood.

The four understood, at least theoretically. They believed that the training would enable them operate from the level of soul, even if they had no idea how. But they were terrified to ask further questions due to Xandar’s impatient nature. They just stared at the dome, playing along with the silence. Bernard even tried to follow Xandar’s breath pattern in the hope that it was what Xandar wanted them to do. Watt was unsettled with the silence and finally spoke:

“We thank you, your grace, for granting us this opportunity.” His voice cracked with a little nervousness. “We are ready to learn how to shift our focus.”

For the first time, Xandar smiled. He enjoyed the nervousness he was creating among the four. He felt like it fed him extra credentials and authority. He turned slowly to Watt, this time the smile was deflating.

“You’ve just asked for the secrets to immortality. This is what happens when you shift focus. You peel away the layers of humanity and bring to the surface the light of the giver. You wash off the dirt of the flesh and shine like a true angel. Your light is so bright that the darkness cannot withstand your luster.

“You can only achieve this on your own. Because in this world, you are on your own mission, identical on your own terms. The worlds of spirit are strange. You think you got company but in truth, you’re alone in communion with the giver, fixing your own world and bending it to the reality of your choice according to His Will…”

Betty paid deep attention to the echoing words of the cardinal as she stared at the dome, looking at her own reflections. The timbre in Xandar’s voice seemed to carry the touch of a herald of ten angels. It was a feeling she wasn’t strange to. She turned to behold his face, half expecting a halo upon the veteran’s head but there was nobody around her. She was left alone in the chapel, with the others gone. But Xandar’s voice tarried…

“Washing away the stains of humanity is no small task. Nor is it a child’s play. It takes the lifetime of an average human to achieve this exalted state called immortality and after that, it takes more to get used to being the giver’s agent on earth. Yet, it is important to become what you’re destined to be. What everyone is destined to become.

“Now you’re alone, fully aware of your spiritual space. Lonely yet confident in the grace bestowed upon you by the Creator, the giver of life and immortality. And you’re wondering but scared to ask: ‘how?’ Well, there is no specific way to achieve immortality. Each person gets his own unique task according to how his consciousness is shaped. It could be in the form of sipping sun juice, or dancing in the beach. It could be something you’re used to. But trust me, it becomes difficult when you take it up.”

Betty could see that the dome was no more there but a hammer, chisel and a huge rock in its place. She knew what to do instantly, the importance somehow stuck in her mind. Gently, she picked up the chisel and the hammer, bracing herself for a trademark smash she learnt while training under Father Bayo.

She gave the strike all her effort, fully determined to break all vestiges of humanity and reap the fruits of immortality. That first strike confirmed all the cardinal was buttressing. It wasn’t going to be an easy task. The stone lay in good repose, barely moving an inch or tilting…

“Surrender, give in, be easy with yourself,” Xandar’s voice still echoed in the thick walls of the chapel. “You cannot rush yourself to immortality. Think of this process like peeling off your skin. You scrape too hard and too soon and you might never survive the pain. Gently, and it is easier to contain.”

But Watt didn’t feel like it was a containable process. This time, Watt was not just sipping sun juice, he was absorbing them deep. The dome didn’t vanish in his own case. It just flamed. And there was a cup right before him. Picking the cup confidently and smiling at the thought of sipping sun juice again, a pastime he was used to, he scooped a part of the flames and devoured the contents in one swoop.

The pain that caught his throat was intense. He threw the cup, grabbed his neck and ducked out of the way. But the dictates of the process weren’t of his own choosing. The flames extended out from the surface of the dome and spread towards him, heating him up, and seeping into his skin pores, as determined to enter as Watt was to run. Watt screamed out loud, knowing no one was there to help. But he screamed anyway…

“Your lonely experience is good,” Xandar pressed on. “It is confirmation that your development is solely up to you. While you have friends, in truth, you’re alone. The world of the five senses loves company, but the world of soul wants solitude. It wants to invent, create, generate and restore. Give it free rein. But give it up slowly. A little too much and you may lose control.”

Athion’s space was an infinite silence. He stood there watching a blank piece of canvass, with a bucket of paint and soft brush made from animal skin. He knew what he was supposed to do. The “how” was the problem of the moment. He stood there, still and composed, waiting for the right ideas to flow.

“Remember the goal, my children.” Xandar’s voice had turned surprisingly warm and soothing. “Immortality is for those that dare, not anything else, but themselves to break insane barriers. This is a path where your mastery will be questioned. Be prepared to face shocking twists to a process you think you have under control. True masters handle every circumstance with an objective mind, and integrate their approach calmly.”

Bernard lay on the floor, stretching wide for a full wash of the water fountain that sprinkled on him from the dome. He smiled at himself, reveling in the thoughts of being a fast immortal, attributing it to the perks of being gifted. The tiny streams were cool and soothing like the sprays from the beach earlier. Then he heard a tick, a snap, a pull… and then intense pain. He screamed out from his depths, confused over what was wrong.

The waters were not washing him and flowing away like he thought, it was seeping and accumulating in his body, tearing up his tissues and muscles. Bernard understood the process was to render him hollow… the hollow tunnel in the ocean waters!  He gasped at how connected it was, though he had no idea if that meant anything. He tried to get up but the disassembling process taking place inside him had left him immobile. He finally retreated but not without screaming out his painful feelings.

“See you in training tomorrow. Keep tonight’s lessons to heart,” Xandar’s voice was cold and indifferent, with a tinge of disappointment. He was half way out the chapel when the four regained consciousness, he began to disperse into nothing but light.

The alarm bell rang….