She ran to E’ranale and was caught up in her embrace.
“Oh, my darling daughter. How long I have waited to hold you again. Yes. It is me. Take comfort in knowing that it is truly your mother who stands before you.”
“But where are we? Am I dead?”
“We are in what is called the Corridor,” E’ranale explained. “It is but one step in the return to the Great Spirit. And no, you are not dead. I have brought you, the true part of yourself, here to me. Your body lies back in Etera’s realm, watched over and cared for by those there who love you so much.”
Pan looked down at her body; she ran her hands over her arms, touched her face. “It feels real, and yet so much more than that. This feels more real than anything I have ever experienced before.”
“That is because you have shifted one vibration closer to the Great Spirit, which is the source of all creation, of all truth. And when you are standing in truth, you are standing in the presence of the One-Who-Is-Three.”
“Will I join you here one day? After I die?” she asked.
“Yes. You will join me one day, never to be parted again,” E’ranale answered.
“So, all those who have returned to the Great Spirit are also here?” Pan asked as she looked around. “But what about Father? Where is Father?!”
“Not all are here,” E’ranale answered. “Your father is not here, Pan. That is why I have brought you to me. There is much I need to explain, much that will help you understand the importance of what lies ahead that is alone yours to do.
“Look at me. Your father’s body is with mine and Straf’Tor’s, deep within Kthama Minor in the Chamber of the Ancients. In time, it will be discovered by others, but for now, its secrets are safe, locked away with the shame of the Age of Darkness. Straf’Tor and I entered the Corridor when our bodies perished on Etera. That was not the case with your father. His body perished after he abandoned it, when he sent his consciousness, his very being, into the Order of Functions.”
“Oh, yes. I— I entered the Order of Functions. I sensed him there. Oh, Mother—”
“Your father knew it was what he had to do. He could not let you bear alone the burden of what he had set in motion. He knew that what faces you will be more than anyone could handle alone. Not even Moc’Tor himself, if fate had put him in your place. He serves the Great Spirit in the Order of Functions to relieve the strain on you so that you, in turn, may fulfill this destiny.”
“I tried! I tried, but I was not powerful enough to free him. Forever. He is trapped forever in that place of—of existence yet non-existence.” Pan covered her face with her hands.
“I understand your grief—I bear it as well. But all is not lost; there is a way to free Moc’Tor. What falls to you to do will set the course for his release, and you will not be alone. In time, the Promised One will come. He will be known as the Seventh of the Six. When he takes his place, he will usher in the Wrak-Ashwea, the Age of Light. He will be the first Akassa Guardian to walk Etera. And you, Pan, will be his teacher.”
“An Akassa Guardian? And I will teach this Promised One? How is that possible? I feel I am barely handling what is on my shoulders now.”
“There are many events that must take place in a certain order before any of this comes to pass. You have centuries to grow in your abilities, many of which you have not yet discovered. When the An’Kru, the Promised One, arrives on Etera, you will be ready to train him. Until then, you must be strong—for yourself, for Rohm’Mok, for your offling, for your father. For all of Etera. You must fully accept your mantle of the Guardianship of Etera.”
Pan hung her head in shame, admitting the struggle within herself to accept her role was not over.
“Our time here is almost up. But, before we part, I must tell you about the Leader’s Staff. Within a chamber at the top is a crystal. Tremendous power lies in that crystal, and it was given only to the House of ‘Tor.
“As you know, it is sacrilege for anyone other than a Leader to touch a Leader’s Staff, or for any Leader to touch the staff of another. This creates reverence for the position of Leader while concealing the existence of the crystal. If any other Leader were to handle the ‘Tor staff, the difference in heft and balance between it and his would be obvious. And conversely, you are not aware of the difference since you have never held any other, either. This sacred crystal is irreplaceable, and when the An’Kru comes to Etera, he will need it when he frees your father.”
E’ranale reached out and touched her daughter’s face. “Return to your body. Rest. Heal. You come from greatness, and there is greatness in you. Continue in your wisdom about what must come for the Akassa and for the Mothoc. Most of all, Pan, trust yourself. In time, before you put in motion the final steps of what you will realize has to be done, you must go to Kayerm.”
Despite the beauty of the Corridor, despite her mother’s loving presence, Pan was alarmed.
E’ranale continued, “You must tell our people, the Mothoc at Kayerm, that they must hand over the leadership to the Sassen. As for the Sassen themselves, remind them of the Rah-hora. Remind them of their duty to avoid the Akassa, lest the Sassen themselves be destroyed. Tell them they must keep the Mothoc culture alive in preparation for the age to come. Finally, you must teach the Sassen Leader to perform the One Mind, the knowledge of which must be passed down from one Leader to the next. Other knowledge will be given to them at the appropriate time.”
E’ranele stood looking at her daughter. “How I wish I could keep you here with me forever. But not yet. In time, you will join me here in the Corridor, and you will rest once again in my arms. But now, it is time for you to return to your body. When you awake back on Etera, you will know what is yours to do.”
Off in the distance, Pan saw a small figure forming. “Mother, who is that?”
E’ranale turned to see who was approaching. “My darling Pan, I had hoped another path would be possible. Prepare yourself.”
“Who is it?” Pan asked again as the figure approached closer.
“That, beloved, is your daughter.”
Pan watched as the figure of a young female approached. She studied the dark, deep-set eyes and the dark coat with a silver upper aspect similar to that of Dak’Tor. Pan could see the influence of both herself and Rohm’Mok. In a place of no-time, it still felt that it took an eternity for the figure to reach her.
She could only stare, not sure what to say.
“Hello, Mama.”
E’ranale looked at her daughter, frozen in uncertainty. “Pan,” she said, snapping the Guardian out of her stupor. “This is your daughter, Tala.”
Pan stammered, “Is she—?”
“No. She is not dead. Though in your timeline on Etera she is not yet born, her true essence exists here. But the fact that she has come to us does not speak well of the potentiality for her life on Etera.”
“What does that mean,” asked Pan, unable to take her eyes off Tala.
“You are not well; your body is in a state of fatigue and exhaustion. You have neglected your duties to the Aezaiterian flow, which serves Etera but also serves to strengthen you and maintain your health. Remember that a Guardian is practically immortal because of the life-giving force of the Aezaiteria. But you have been negligent in that.”
“Are you saying that I may lose her? That Tala may not be born?” Pan asked, turning her gaze to her mother.
“The future is not set, daughter. If you do not turn the current state around, yes, you may lose her. You can see that the day will come when you will know her here, but you may never see her grow up and live her life on Etera.”
Pan stared at Tala, who remained silent. “I will not lose you, Tala. I promise I will turn away from neglecting my health.”
Then she looked at her mother. “I have failed in my responsibilities as Guardian. My anger at your passing, and what I felt was my father’s betrayal by making me Leader of the High Rocks—I have let them rule me. I am sorry. I am so sorry.”
&nb
sp; E’ranale stepped forward and put her arms around her daughter. “The Great Spirit knows your heart, Pan. Return to Etera. Renew your commitment to living. Turn your soul’s intention toward living. And then do your best from now on. The Akassa need you. The Sarnonn need you. The Others need you. And the Mothoc need you. You have much yet to accomplish; the future of Etera rests on your shoulders and your ability to trust The Order of Functions.”
Pan took another look at Tala, who was smiling at her warmly. She reached out her arms, and her daughter stepped into them. “I will do everything I can to give you life—and as wonderful a life as I can create for you,” Pan whispered into her daughter’s ear.
“I know you will, Mama,” Tala said before stepping back.
“Now, you must return,” E’ranale said softly.
Pan nodded and created her intention to return to her body on Etera.
Chapter 12
The two sentries Hatos’Mok had sent out at the Guardian’s request were on their way back to the Deep Valley. They had been gone for several months, following the currents of the vortex snaking across Etera. They had set out south, then west, and then turned far north. Discovering what they believed was that which they had been sent to find, they made their way back toward the Deep Valley, happy to be bringing good news.
“I will be glad to get back to a routine,” said Asolp.
B’Hit agreed. “Familiar hunting areas, waterways, gathering sites. A much easier life than this one of wandering about.”
Suddenly Asolp stopped. “Something is wrong.”
“I feel it too. It is out of our way, but we must investigate it.”
The two giant males set out in the direction of the disturbance they had sensed.
Off in the distance, nestled under an outcropping of rock, there looked to be an entrance to a cave. As they walked, their discomfort increased.
“Great sadness here,” Asolp said. “Terrible loss. And also deep anger.”
Before long, they were at the cave’s entrance. They carefully went in and soon found they could go no further. A heavy tumble of rocks and boulders blocked the way.
“There were Mothoc here,” commented Asolp. “It feels as if they lived here not that long ago.”
B’Hit walked over and picked up a piece of crushed material. “A water gourd, or at least what is left of it.” He kicked at some rubble and found another piece. “This is clearly our design. The Others do not use such large and heavy materials.”
“Nor do they live in caves.”
“Whoever they were, they are long gone. Yet the imprint of their grief and anger remains.” B’Hit tossed away the piece of gourd. “We must leave this place. But before we go, let us say a prayer to the Great Spirit for healing for those who have suffered such a terrible event.”
“Who were they, and where did they go?” wondered Asolp. “Most likely, we will never know.”
The two spent a moment in silence before continuing on their way to the Deep Valley, now with even more information to bring to Hatos’Mok.
Pan realized that her mate was holding her. She reached up and touched his face. Rohm’Mok’s eyes flew open, and he turned, careful not to dislodge her.
“You are awake! How do you feel?” he asked, clasping her fingers.
“I am tired. I feel as if I have been sleeping forever,” she said quietly. “How long has it been since I went to the meadow?”
“I do not even want to tell you. Tyria said it will not be that long before you deliver our offling.”
Pan was shocked at his words. Then she reached down and touched her belly. “Is she alright?”
“Yes. Our offling is fine. But, she?” Rohm’Mok smiled. “Is there something you are not telling me?”
“I have so much to share with you,” Pan answered. “But first, I realize I have neglected my duties as Guardian. I have let my anger derail me from my calling. I am going to stop fighting everything now, I promise. I do not want to lose you or our offling.”
“Rest,” Rohm’Mok said, easing himself from next to her. “Tyria will want to know you have returned to us. I will be right back.”
Pan lay on the mat, thinking. My father. Trapped in the Order of Functions. In that place of no place. But at least now she had hope. And she vowed she would do everything she could to fulfill her duties as Guardian of Etera. Suddenly, a sharp pain shot through her. Pan’s hands instinctively went to her belly. Oh please, Great Spirit, please. Please do not let my stubbornness cost Tala her life on Etera.
Sent under the orders of the Guardian to locate another underground cave system in close proximity to a strong magnetic vortex, Asolp and B’Hit returned to the Deep Valley having completed their mission. Bakru immediately sent for Hatos’Mok and his son, Bahr’Mok, now Leader of the Deep Valley.
Both listened intently as Asolp explained first about the expansive cave system they had found sitting on a rich magnetic vortex, just as the Guardian had hoped.
“It is quite far north,” B’Hit reported. “The air seemed cooler there, which would benefit us in the hot weather. There is a rich stream that snakes around the base of the mountainside. There are also many deer and rich meadows full of the Great Spirit’s blessings. Clearly, it is as hospitable as the High Rocks and the Deep Valley.”
“As for the vortex there, I would say it is nearly as powerful as the one under Kthama,” B’Hit added.
“Thank you. We must get this information to the Guardian,” said Bahr’Mok.
“There is more, Adik’Tar,” Asolp said. “We took a circuitous route back. On the way, we found what I am sure is an abandoned Mothoc colony with the entrance blocked by a cave-in. We could not tell how long ago they abandoned it, nor where they went.”
“The despair lingered, Adik’Tar,” added B’Hit. “But more than that. There was great anger, resentment, bitterness over the loss of loved ones in the disaster. Wherever they went, the surviving Mothoc, I think we must be concerned for their state of mind.”
Bahr’Mok told them that he would prepare a messenger to go immediately to Kthama.
“No,” Hatos’Mok said. “I will go myself. I wish to discover if there is anything else the Guardian requires.
“Now, both of you start over and tell us every detail of both places you found.”
After Asolp and B’Hit had finished and been dismissed, Bahr’Mok turned to Hatos’Mok. “What does this mean, Father?”
“It means that though the Age of Wrak-Wavara has come to an end, locked within Kthama Minor, there are still debts to be paid for our betrayal of the Others so long ago. I fear that the hearts of the Mothoc will, for a little longer, be denied the peace we crave.”
With a heavy heart, Hatos’Mok placed his hand on his son’s shoulder. “Lead Awenasa well, my son, and cherish each day sheltered here within her walls. I will return as soon as I can.”
With that, Hatos’Mok left his home, in the back of his mind fearing that he knew the sacrifice the Guardian would, in time, call on them all to make.
PLEASE READ
Thank you for reading Book Two. I hope that means you will continue with Book Three: The Secret of The Leader’s Staff! Following Book Three will be Book Four and Book Five. After that I am not sure. We’ll see so stay the course with me please.
At this point if you have not read Series One, you may be inclined to just skip it. But I encourage you read it. Series One, Wrak-Ayya: The Age of Shadows, covers the journey of the People thousands and thousands of years following what takes place in this series. There are many answered questions from Series One in Series Two. Aren’t you curious what you are missing lol?
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Blessings - Leigh
Acknowledgments
Having written thirteen books now, I have to once again acknowledge my dear husband who has sacrificed many many hours of our personal time together so I could continue my author career.
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My wonderful editor Joy who never fails me.
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My dear friend Carolene.
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Also, my little pack of Pomeranians who patiently nap around me while I peck away at the keyboard.
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And, my beloved brother Richard, who continues to be my biggest supporter.
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I love you all.
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Now and forever.
The Chamber of the Ancients: Wrak-Wavara: The Age of Darkness Book Two Page 18