Across worlds I seek
ribbons of knowledge
meandering in the wind
in my mind,
a world within,
without steady course.
Harder than usual the rain fell, catching the runnels in his hat, cascading off the back as he stared at the glaring neon sign advertising escape in sordid ways, uncaring of the deluge. Stepping of the curb into the street after a skidek sluiced by, he strode with a purpose towards the doors, determined that this night would give answers.
It was a dim and unhappening place. A worn-out dancer moved naked on the small stage, out of rhythm with the pounding beat as two Krynor workers- still in uniform- openly touched themselves as they gazed on in a Torpor-huff infused stupor. Legal as it was, Torpor-huff sticks were bad business, so he was careful to avoid inhaling the mist as he made his way across the floor to the bar.
The Synthoid offered him prompt service as there was no one else, but Gaelyn was not there for cheap-brewed booze and other artificents. Off-world he had come, following the stardust trail that had led him to this place.
“A drink, sir?” it inquired in a neutral, warm seductive tone. Its soft, almond-colored eyes set in a pleasing face framed by auburn hair, tried to engage his blue eyes, but he kept them averted as he knew the gaze sent a subliminal message to drink and spend. The synthoid ended at her cleavage, below the bar top was just mechanics. This place was a front and an affront, and he knew that coming in.
“No,” Gaelyn said, “but I have a truth to tell.”
As simple as that statement was, it had taken him years and many credits to uncover the pass-phrase. It had cost him his job and his wife to find this final location thirteen parsecs from his own world and the nightmare that had been thrust upon him and his family. And he had killed, many times over and without regret, to arrive at that particular place in time.
The effect was immediate. “Stand for scan,” the synthoid ordered, so he stood back with nothing to fear. Its eyes turned violet as it scanned him for weapons, of which it could find none. “Hand,” it intoned, so he laid his hand palm down on the the bar top and then felt a tingling as something was electronically imprinted on it. Nothing else was said as it flicked its eyes sideways to indicate a darkened hallway at the back of the club.
A mirror faced him at the end, showing him the haggard man he had become, not in his clothes as they were still dapper and clean, but in the lines of his face and the gray of his hair. Ten years of constant search and sorrow had made a map upon his features that any blind person could comprehend. Gaelyn pressed his imprinted hand against the surface and it dissolved away, then he stepped through.
There, in the office, was a man of middling height, his legs up on his desk with monitors surrounding him- some of the club; some of the galactic feeds; and some, Gaelyn noticed as it used to be his job, tracking galactic shipments, which he could only assume to his own reason for being there.
“Which one is yours?” the balded man of ebony skin asked Gaelyn while indicating the shipping monitors with a casual wave of his hand- cargo ships he knew to be carrying young girls and boys.
Gaelyn cleared his throat. “The fact is, none of them are mine, Jubte.”
Confusion etched his face as he regarded the man before him. “Then how are you here?”
“Because I have money and I am determined, and I am vengeful. And most importantly, I have nothing left to lose.”
Jubte laughed. “I don’t know how you got here, but ‘the fact is’ you will not leave here alive. You are a very foolish man.”
Gaelyn smiled. “You are right on both accounts. The fact is, my daughter is dead because of you, as well as many other daughters and sons. The fact is, I know your operation extends five floors below this level. The fact is, we are all going to die.”
Jubte reached for the blaster hidden under his desk at the precise moment Gaelyn grabbed his right index finger and twisted, sending the signal for the elements that he had injected into his body to coalesce. And as Jubte raised the blaster to center on Gaelyn’s chest, the vengeful father gave the final command.
“Judgement day,” he whispered, and his body exploded with the force of a one megaton atomic bomb.
You can get my book for 50% off, so check out my award winning work (Texas Assoc of Authors 1st Place YA Fantasy & Trafford Publishing’s Seal of Literary Excellence) and tell a friend!
Starting tomorrow is ebook week at Smashwords ( https://www.smashwords.com/ebookweek ) where ebooks are hugely discounted!
Okay, I tried doing a poem about this but it felt forced and inauthentic, so I am going to try something I rarely do, which is give a little piece of me. I am not a follower of religion, but I believe in a higher force. I believe the universe has a consciousness of sorts, which in turn results in a collective consciousness accessible by “localized” planetary communities… so to speak. It is a rough theory.
I also believe in genetic memory, but that is another story.
Premonition is something that I have had a few times in my life; undeniable and not linked to instinct or a subliminal interpretation of little clues strewn about here and there; and then some get a little weirder after the fact, one of which I will not bring up because it disturbs me so.
So, a piece of me that I am opting to share as an author in order to connect with my audience. I remember this one clearly as a boy of thirteen, standing under the pine tree in my front yard- my dad always bought live pines for Christmas and then planted them in the yard- and for no reason just looked up in thought, knowing that at some point I would be involved in two wars, and that I would be okay. This came to pass.
A few years later, shortly after getting my first job at a doughnut shop post-high school, I knew for no reason at all, that the baker who was a woman four years my senior, was someday going to be my wife. No reason I tell you. I was a dork in high school, her brother was ahead of me and a very popular football player, and she was a pretty bike racer who could have made it to the Olympics if she had had the proper support. But I knew we would be married- this came to pass.
And then, prior to my second deployment to a war zone on a year-long assignment, I just knew that both my parents would die, so I went to visit before hand, as I believe that funerals are irrelevant to the dead and are only for those who cling to memories and sorrows. I would rather see them alive one more time. I did not share my vision with them and yes, they were not in optimal health, but there was no reason to believe that they would not live many more years past their 76th. This, too, came to pass as my mother died one month after my deployment ( two days before my youngest son’s birthday) and my dad three months before my return (three days before my birthday).
And the weirdest thing yet is that about a year later I received an e-mail from my mother’s hotmail account, the three lines truncated as if it was very difficult to type, listing three very unique, only-she-could-know things in my life. Nobody in my family could explain it.
These are my premonitions.
In the beginning there was Chaos. Chaos was and knew nothing of itself but to perform infinite permutations and spew out infinite probabilities. Eventually, Chaos stumbled upon the permutation for Order and burst asunder. Into this order were born the Gods who were without form. Into this order were born the beings of Flesh who were without astral graces. One locked into the astral realm, the other to the physical. Each longed for the other.
The Gods found that each being of Flesh born took a small piece of each of the Gods with them and returned it when they died. Because of that connection the Gods found that they could influence and guide these base creatures, even cross briefly into the physical realm. The beings of Flesh found that they could transcend the physical for a time through communion with their chosen god and receive guidance. But there were many worlds and even though the Gods existed infinitely, they could only do and see so much.
The Gods were twinned, existing in both male and female aspects; they named themselves, names unpronounceable to the beings of Flesh for they had no sound; and gave themselves domains that comprised the essence of the Flesh to create a virtual form in the astral realm. They were the Gods of Blood, Heart, Spirit, Mind and Conflict. Earth and Sky belonged to the realm of the physical.
The beings of Flesh, existing in both male and female aspects, named themselves- different names for different worlds- and named their gods. Some chose to follow the Gods as they are, some chose to put one above all others or all into one, while others imagined many more. Still, some lost belief all together. And names changed.
Yet, there was still chaos in the universe; it was not gone, merely shattered and flung wide69. And there was that which was created before Order. From this came beings that could traverse both realms, unhindered by the laws Order set down, for they existed before and were not bound by them. From this there were the places where maddened creatures roamed, while in others were creatures of pure beauty and gentleness. Many times the two mixed. Chaos was still in everything, creating chance and instability.
The Gods were not perfect, but beings without flesh and thus made infinite. There were those that wanted to guide the beings of Flesh to find peace and happiness, freedom and free will. But there were those who wanted to control them, make them serve their desires, require worship and sacrifice in exchange for their guidance.
The Gods warred and split forcing Order to bring Good and Evil into the universe. As Order created balance, there could not be one without the other, so each domain broke from its twin and each aspect took a side that fit their desire; one focusing on force, led by the God of Blood; the other of free will, led by the Goddess of Heart. Each side gave themselves a name, unpronounceable to those of the Flesh.
And still they war.
It came to be that Order caused those of the flesh that died following the Blood Gods, returned all their astral parts to them; and those following the Heart Gods to them. But still, each newborn took from all, so it is that the power of one side growing greater than the other ebbs and wanes.
So they war for souls, through the beings of Flesh.
The Gods of Heart came to Ylinresh before the others, finding those of the Flesh in a savage and beastly state, beset by foul creatures of Chaos and warring with each other. They called themselves Ylin. The Heart Gods endeavored to raise these ylinnu up and guide them to civility, and the ylinnu gave them a name- the Ylinraewylra, or more simply Raewyl; Gods of the Selfless Path. And they gave each god a name- Ofaer, Goddess of Heart; Ryslan, God of Spirit; Galaea, Goddess of Blood; Jovin, God of Mind; Foenaea, Goddess of Conflict.
But the Chaos creatures were great in power and number, so the Gods created a great weapon forged in the bosom of Heart, tempered by Conflict, consecrated by Blood, imbued by Spirit, and Mind, finding the wisest and strongest among them, granted the Spear of Awakening- called in their tongue the KdeshniMareshkajovylin- to Beshmarr who carved the First Realm from the darkness and chaos for his people, guided by the these gods who brought ylinnu from beastliness to grace.
The ylinnu prospered, spreading far and wide over the Ylinresh, eventually forgetting their origins. As they spread over continents and across oceans the words of the First Tongue became lost, except those relating to the Gods. Languages became many and varied, and culture changed. So, too, the tools of their awakening became forgotten- myths in time.
With ylinnu being who they are, comprising astral parts of all the Gods, in time they fought amongst each other, yet it was not influenced by any god; it was pure nature. Still they dedicated themselves to the Gods of Heart so devoutly that these Gods held sway in the astral realm.
The Gods of Blood, seeing the power of their rivals sought out its source. Eventually they came to Ylinresh, infiltrating the ylinnu with false promises, lies, and deception, stroking those astral parts that linked them. The ylinnu gave them a name- the Ylinbekwylra, or more simply Bekwyl; Gods of the Selfish Path. And they gave each god a name- Yaezl, God of Blood; Kadlek, God of Conflict; Aggaruz, God of Heart; Lumidaea, Goddess of Spirit; Fireyl, Goddess of Mind.
They brought tools of conquest, too, but it was not a weapon of iron, stone, or wood. The Wyl had discovered Wyldaeng, Gods-using, by which they could channel their ethereal power through the bond with the ylinnu, who then could use this power and become Wyldaer. The Bekwyl learned how to chain the demons born of chaos, the Fraek, which crossed realms and this they taught to the ylinnu who followed them; the way of Yaewyldaeng, Blood-using.
The Raewyl taught Ofaewyldaeng, Heart-using, to ylinnu who followed them so that they could defend against these Fraek and other atrocities born of corrupted blood.
And still they war for the souls of Ylin.
Barnacles we gather
unable to shuck
what we’ve collected;
slowing us down,
dragging through heavy currents,
forward momentum stalling,
beginning to drift.
Encrusted are our lives
and meaning is lost;
the shell becomes us,
the mask defined,
locking away the dreams of youth.
It was there in the slow swirl of her wine; the hesitant press and sip to her ruby lips that left just a trace on the rim; the blue eyes that just couldn’t quite meet his. She put her glass down and offered a forced smile to the waiter as he brought their meals- hers lobster tail with a garlic-butter sauce and his steak tartar- while still avoiding his gaze.
She was not sure why she had not left immediately, feeling such a odd aura from her date. It was only because her grandmother had set this up that she had acquiesced to the date and decided to try and make it an evening of it, but he was such an unsettling being- hairy beyond belief with such predatory eyes and a hungry smile that disturbed her.
When her grandma’s number had popped up on a cellphone call, she of course answered but to a very hoarse voice, barely recognizable, and upon inquiring as to her health, received only assurances. The conversation ended with grandma insisting that she meet up with the doctor that treated her, a Dr. Wolff. For grandma’s sake she agreed.
They arranged to meet for dinner at the The Gourmet Basket, a well-regarded place nestled in a wooded resort in the nearby hills- a place of fine food and dancing. He had insisted on treating her to the best.
It was a misty evening when she arrived in a cab, wearing a demure knee-length red dress with a matching hooded trench coat, her black hair cascading in loose curls past her shoulders once she passed it over to the coat-checker. Dr. Wolff had already arrived and stood as she approached the table. He was dressed neatly in a light-grey suit with a charcoal-gray shirt splashed with a rose-red tie. Handsome and distinguished looking though he was, his scrutiny of her promptly set her at unease.
“You look very lovely,” he seemed to growl. “That dress is amazing on you. I could just eat you up.”
“Uh, thanks,” shyly she replied. “You look very dapper yourself.”
He played the gentleman- seating her, ordering pork belly appetizers, and engaging in small talk, none of which seemed sincere to her. It was probing as he asked about habits, likes, routines, and family. In return, he slyly deflected her questions about how he knew her grandmother and her state of health.
It seemed feral the way he tore into his tartar as she carefully picked apart her crustacean after eating her exquisitely prepared spring vegetables, none of which her date had eaten of his own. It was all devoured in silence.
Afterwards, feeling obliged to continue the night, she took to the dance floor where she had to admit that he was lithe and sure on his feet, adept at the foxtrot, but felt chased and hunted across the floor. Although being fleet of foot herself, she felt worn out and cornered by the end, desiring to go home.
“Would you like me to take you home?” he asked with a big, toothy smile as he helped her on with her hooded cloak.
“I’m not quite sure… maybe.” She replied.