by Leo Ndelle
A pair of red orbs flared in anger as the dark, viscous energy that was Emok writhed in its prison.
“Patience, Emok,” The Scribe said calmly. “I will free you at the perfect time.”
“Then why come here?” Emok seethed. “To taunt me?”
The Scribe said nothing. He knew Emok’s power had grown immensely since their last encounter, which was most welcome. He opened his palm with the copy of the key and glided towards Emok’s prison. Emok went into a wild frenzy and smashed his form repeatedly against the confines of his prison.
“Be ready,” The Scribe placed the copy of the key against the prison.
Five Shemsus, including Lunok, immediately appeared around Emok’s prison. Four Shemsus went for The Scribe while Lunok tried to use telekinesis to contain Emok. Lunok realized Emok had become almost too powerful for him to handle alone, but he had to continue holding down Emok while his comrades tried to secure The Scribe. The Scribe let the four Shemsus put their hands on him and as soon as they did, he grinned.
Emok froze and so did Lunok. The four Shemsus gaped in shock when they realized what had just happened. Slowly, they watched as the Shemsu energy barrier around Emok’s prison begin to fissure in many locations. Emok saw his opportunity and for a blink in time, he was too slow to react. However, when the reality hit him finally, Emok released every iota of energy and power he could summon against his prison. Such power was too much for even a Shemsu as powerful as Lunok to handle by himself.
“Help!” Lunok screamed via telepathy.
His comrades immediately left The Scribe and rushed to Lunok’s aid as the full blast The Darkness’ energy shattered its prison. All life on Earth Realm was wiped out and the entire realm was cast into an eerie darkness, as if Solara never existed. The sheer power from the dark energy blast threatened to rip both Earth Realm and Lunok apart as Earth Realm quaked violently and Lunok struggled helplessly to contain The Darkness. Fortunately, his comrades reacted promptly and summoned a Shemsu energy bubble around The Darkness. However, even their combined strength could barely contain The Darkness.
“We must act fast!” one of them screamed. “He is too powerful for us!”
“Hold on a little longer!” Lunok screamed in return.
Lunok thrust his right fist towards the sky and a bolt of Shemsu energy struck the bubble his comrades had created. It had no effect on Emok.
“I need your keys!” Lunok demanded.
“Too risky!” one of them screamed as they continued to struggle against The raging Darkness.
“It is the only way!” Lunok screamed back. “NOW!”
The Scribe observed Lunok and his comrades struggling to contain Emok. He did admire Lunok’s strength and leadership. Lunok would have been the perfect Shemsu for his grand plan, but Emok would do just fine. It was a pity that such an asset like Lunok was going to be erased along with the rest of Creation. And then, he heard Lunok demand the others give him their keys. This would be the perfect opportunity to make his copy of the entire key! The Scribe grinned in excitement as Lunok’s comrades gave Lunok their parts of the key. Perfect! He thought. He was about to make his move when things changed.
The Scribe observed Lunok collect his comrades’ parts of the key in his right hand. The key glowed as he balled his right fight and crashed it into the open palm of his left hand. There was a wrinkle in the Dimensions of Space, Time, Energy and Ether and everything became still; everything except The Scribe. No! No! No! NO! cried The Scribe as slowly, Emok’s prison was rebuilt and Emok was once again cast into it. This is IMPOSSIBLE! The Scribe yelled as the wrinkle in the Dimensions of Space, Time, Energy and Ether became sealed and everything returned to normal.
Lunok released an equal amount of counteracting energy into Earth Realm, thereby stabilizing the realm. Earth Realm was saved from obliteration but it was still steeped in total darkness. Lunok’s eyes flared in a bright, violet hue as he turned around to face The Scribe. He was furious beyond comprehension.
“You have interfered for the last time, creature!” Lunok fumed as he flared violent flames from his mouth and eyes.
“This cannot be!” The Scribe spoke to himself, as if Lunok and his comrades were not even there. “Only Akasha and I can do that and this was not her doing!”
Lunok raged towards The Scribe but The Scribe vanished from sight.
“You’ve become insignificant, Shemsu,” The Scribe said arrogantly via telepathy. “There’s a much bigger threat out there.”
Lunok was furious, though he knew there was nothing more he could do. The Scribe was gone. He felt a hand on a shoulder and turned around to attack.
“Calm down, brother,” said a comrade of his. “We do not know what just happened or how you did it. But we are glad you did.”
Lunok calmed himself down and extinguished the flames from his eyes and mouth. He was the first Shemsu to flare up as such. He turned around and glared at Emok writhing in his newer, much stronger containment chamber. Then, he met the gazes of each of his fellow comrades.
“Thank you all,” he spoke softly. “We did well.”
“No, brother,” one of them said. “YOU did it!”
Lunok nodded. There was no need to drag on the conversation. He opened his right palm and stared at the key. What really just happened? He wondered. For a split moment, he was a conduit of something he neither understood nor could explain. Yet, it felt so… familiar? The key… Maybe it was safer with him. He should keep it for himself. His comrades were not strong enough for what Emok had evolved into. He had so many questions and he knew he must find the answers to these questions. To find answers to these questions, he would have to fall yet again.
“Brother,” a Shemsu interrupted his thoughts. “Our keys?”
“Of course!” Lunok replied, returning to reality.
He redistributed the key to each of his comrades. He considered sparing a word or two in Emok’s direction but decided it was pointless.
“Let us return home!” Lunok said.
The five Shemsus teleported home, leaving Emok, The Darkness, alone in an eerie, lifeless Earth Realm steeped in an even more eerie darkness.
“In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth. Now the earth was formless and empty, and the darkness was over the surface of the deep…” Genesis 1:1-2.
CHAPTER TWO
FAZIM
THE REALM OF Zodica is home to the Paradins and central realm to the Dimension of Mueba. Zodica was also of a much higher vibrational frequency that Earth and Celestia were. Fazim was a seraph and her governing partner was Keerim. Keerim was spawned many Zodica cycles before Fazim. Fazim was a celebrity in Zodica because, during her spawning, there was a glitch that caused the Zarark to stop working for a moment before it resumed full function. This was unheard of in Zodica and no one could explain why. As such, Fazim was also described as ‘The Seraph who Zapped the Zarark’. After three other cherubim, Keerim was the only Paradin who resonated with her and that was how the two became governing partners. Over many Zodica cycles of working together, the relationship between Fazim and Keerim morphed to a deep love for each other.
On one occasion, while Fazim and Keerim were busy governing their cosmic cluster, a strange creature covered in pristine white fur and walking on four legs had slowly appeared in front of Fazim. It held Fazim’s gaze and Fazim stared at this non-threatening creature with innocent curiosity. She turned around to see if Keerim could also see what she was seeing; but his body language indicated that only her could see this creature.
“Hello Fazim,” the creature greeted her telepathically. “My name is Ashram.”
“Hello Ashram,” Fazim returned Ashram’s greeting in like manner.
She spared a glance in Keerim’s direction once more and, again, Keerim was oblivious of Ashram’s presence.
“Do not worry, Fazim,” Ashram said. “He is unaware of my presence. Only you can perceive me.”
Fazim nodded, not knowing what else to say.<
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“May I please come closer?” Ashram asked.
Fazim glanced again in Keerim’s direction before meeting Ashram’s gaze. She managed a slight nod and Ashram slowly walked towards her. He perched on his hind legs next to her and just observed her while she worked, which was a little harder for her now that Ashram was sitting next to her.
“I apologize, I did not mean to distract you from your work,” Ashram said. “But please, pretend I am not here.”
“That will be quite hard to do, Ashram,” Fazim confessed.
Fazim could feel the power and energy emanating from Ashram’s body and it caused her own energy levels to spike significantly. She hoped Keerim did not detect her energy spikes.
“Is everything alright with you, Faz?” Keerim asked.
Fazim whipped her head towards him and she noticed his eyes widen a little in surprise.
“Oh no! He knows!” Fazim exclaimed telepathically. “What should I do?”
“I understand this may be a little hard for you to understand and accept. But, when I say he cannot see me, trust me, he cannot see me,” Ashram reassured her. “Just be yourself.”
“Everything is alright, Keerim,” Fazim forced a polite smile. “You just startled me, that’s all.”
“Alright,” Keerim replied. “Just checking. Oh, there is a new cluster forming over here!” Keerim added with some excitement. “Do you want to see?”
“No, thank you,” Fazim declined politely. “I also have a new cluster forming over here. I must monitor.”
“Of course,” Keerim replied.
Fazim was not lying. She monitored the cluster as it formed out of what the paradins called pre-matter. She injected mild doses of consciousness and watched how its colors brightened but stayed the same. She was distracted by Ashram’s presence, despite her trying to focus on her task at hand..
“You must have some questions for me,” Ashram said matter-of-factly.
“Where are you from and what do you want with me?”
Fazim sounded ruder than nervous.
“I have a home, but I am hardly there. My kind and I are in search of special individuals,” Ashram replied. “I believe this moment marks the start of a very long and fruitful friendship for you and I, Fazim.”
Fazim smiled. That was easy, he thought.
Ashram stayed a little longer with Fazim and the two had many words to share. Fazim’s curiosity was insatiable, as was expected. Ashram furnished Fazim with as much information as she could handle. He even shared the story of his most unfortunate demise, and that of his friends, with her. She sympathized with him. Ashram left eventually, but not before promising to visit Fazim frequently.
And so it came to pass that another extremely rare occurrence took place in the Realm of Zodica. Mother decided the moment had come for a new guardian to be chosen. The current guardian was summoned by Mother and that was the last the paradins ever heard or saw of him. No one knew the reason behind Mother’s decision to choose a new guardian. Thus, Zodica would remain without a guardian until Mother deemed otherwise.
A few Zodica cycles later, Keerim had the pleasure of meeting an unexpected acquaintance while performing his tasks. It was an interesting coincidence that this ominous visitor showed up around the same period he, Keerim, was coveting the status of guardian. Keerim would later learn that when it came to this ominous visitor, who introduced himself as The Scribe and described himself as a purveyor of purpose, there was no such thing as coincidence. And The Scribe made him an offer he could not refuse.
The Scribe had been a dream crusher though. It was an honest disclaimer, but a dream crusher, nonetheless.
“Being a guardian has nothing to do with personal desire,” The Scribe said. “It is not an achievement. You cannot claim it. Only Mother chooses one.”
Keerim’s disappointment was palpable across many cosmic clusters. Still, his desire to become a guardian overshadowed the words of The Scribe.
“However,” The Scribe continued. “There is a first time for everything.”
“Indeed!” Keerim concurred. “There is a first time for everything.”
“I shall let you ponder on this until our next meeting,” The Scribe added and disappeared from sight.
Gradually, Keerim became resentful and angry at everything and everyone. Without even realizing it, he had become polarized, which was also a notion that was alien to the Paradins. His polarization increased with the passage of moments. He needed The Scribe, but The Scribe was nowhere to be found. This made Keerim even more resentful and angrier. However, Keerim eventually realized that no one was responsible for his polarization but himself. With this realization, Keerim let go of the mélange of emotions that raved within him. Unfortunately, despite this sudden revelation, Keerim’s polarization was irreversible.
It would not take long before Keerim started slipping during his tasks. Luckily, his slips did not result in any damages within the cosmic clusters he oversaw and neither Fazim nor the elders seemed to notice. Still, Keerim was aware that it was only a matter of moments before he made a major mistake and possibly cause a cataclysm of unimaginable proportions within the cosmic clusters he oversaw.
“It appears you might be in need of some assistance?” The Scribe asked in sub-Paradin frequency.
“Why am I not surprised to see you after all this while?” Keerim scoffed. “You only show up when I am in need, and not in a good way.”
“Most creatures would value someone who always shows up when they are in need,” The Scribe replied with sarcasm.
“Most creatures have not met you yet,” Keerim rebutted.
“My offer still stands,” The Scribe said with a sudden change of tone.
The Scribe was there for more important business than to pander to this paradin’s petty propensity of polarization.
“To use a Zarark to maintain my sanity?” Keerim asked rhetorically. “How do you plan on obtaining our Zarark?”
“Who said the Zarark was going to be from your realm?” The Scribe asked.
Keerim was surprised at the question.
“But…” he stammered. “Doesn’t the Zarark have to come from our realm for it to stabilize my psyche?”
“The Zarark is the same everywhere, regardless of the realm or dimension,” The Scribe replied. “Just like Mother is.”
Keerim was speechless for the first time since he met The Scribe. The entity he was staring at had just insinuated so many things that Keerim had considered impossible. Yet, even as Keerim sorely wanted to not believe The Scribe, there was something about this entity that warranted the contrary.
“All is not lost, cherub,” The Scribe prompted.
The Scribe was starting to lose his patience with Keerim, though he preferred not to show it. Best to let this stupid creature seal its own fate. He, The Scribe, was but a facilitator.
“Imagine being a guardian and in constant contact with your realm’s Zarark,” The Scribe added. “Would that not be wonderful? No need to contain another realm’s Zarark within your form.”
He does have some valid points, Keerim thought.
When Keerim was still silent, The Scribe went if for the kill.
“How badly do you want it, Keerim,” The Scribe asked and forced Keerim to meet his gaze.
Keerim did and was instantly seduced by the ferocity, determination and focus in The Scribe’s eyes. He could not help it. This entity called The Scribe was ready for whatever and he was unwavering about it. If The Scribe could be this resolute about whatever, then he, Keerim, must do the same.
“Like my existence depends on it,” Keerim replied.
“Excellent!” The Scribe exclaimed. “Now, here is what you must do.”
When The Scribe finished outlining what he expected of Keerim, Keerim was too dumbfounded to say anything. The price for his salvation was too high, but his need for self-preservation outweighed all else.
“Are you ready, cherub?” The Scribe asked.
“Yes, I
am,” Keerim replied, sealing his pact with The Scribe; a pact he innately knew would not be in his best interest in the long run.
But who cares? Keerim thought. So long as I am guardian.
***
Fazim had not seen Ashram for a while, but she was confident everything was alright with him. She was working as usual when suddenly, all the cosmic clusters under her supervision started moving around in erratic patterns. Fazim panicked, fearing this strange occurrence was her fault. However, no alarms went off and Keerim did not notice anything. But how? She wondered. What is happening?
Fazim then took a closer look at the movements of her cosmic clusters and noticed they moved in an orderly manner. They stopped moving when they traced a female’s face. This face opened its eyes and smiled kindly at her. Fazim almost gasped but the clusters formed a finger and rested over the lips of the face. Fazim nodded, not knowing what else to do. She glanced around, thinking someone else might have noticed what was happening. No one did. The finger slid from the face of the woman and once again the face smiled. Suddenly, Fazim felt a soothing feeling take over her essence and she relaxed.
“Mother?” Fazim asked telepathically with excitement and reverence.
“Hello, my child,” Mother replied telepathically.
***
Keerim received The Scribe’s urgent message and reacted accordingly. The moment was nigh for him to honor his side of his pact with The Scribe. Once he was done, he would receive a remedy for his ‘ailment’. Yes! That was how his polarization was described; an ailment of the essence.
“My love, meet me at our usual spot,” Keerim said via telepathy.
“Of course, my love,” Fazim replied in kind. “I am on my way.”
Fazim met Keerim at their usual spot. There, they talked, bonded, talked again and bonded again. It was one of the best moments of her existence. She was burning with love for Keerim, a love she was happy he reciprocated.
“I want to show you something, my love,” Keerim said after a while.
“Oh, what is it?” Fazim beamed with curiosity.
“Close your eyes and follow my teleport link,” Keerim replied with a grin.