by Lucia Ashta
“I think I had a vision,” Elena said.
She shared the content of her vision with Marco as completely as she could and watched his face blanch as she spoke. Finally, her curiosity won out, and she stopped to ask him, “What is it? Am I saying something that upsets you?”
“No, you are not,” he said shortly. “Please continue. I will explain once you are finished.”
Elena related the rest of her vision to Marco and then turned toward him expectantly.
“I have seen the same place and the same time. I am sure of it,” he said.
Elena stared at him, dumbfounded. After a minute, she found her speech again.
“You can’t be serious,” she said.
“Oh, but I am. It seems that we have known each other even longer than I thought at first.
“Tell me,” he said, “what color are Ashta and Anak’s eyes?”
She gasped in sudden realization. “Oh my God!” she said. “It’s us, isn’t it?”
“I believe so,” he said. “It seems that I have found you again, amore. Finally, after all of this time of searching, you are at my side again.”
The children in Elena’s vision had the same glowing amber eyes that she and Marco had. They were identical. How had she not realized the connection? But then, why would she? It seemed so farfetched. She had just seen herself in another lifetime. And she had seen her twin in this other lifetime. Now her twin stood before her again in the flesh.
The water still poured in the tub; Elena’s body was almost fully submerged. Breathless, they stared into each other’s eyes.
* * *
Ashta and Anak stared at each other. Only their gaze and silence seemed to exist against the backdrop of the running water. Kaanra was forgotten, an observer at the periphery. Ashta and Anak were frozen in time, stunned and speechless for minutes that seemed like hours. Neither one of them knew what to think or say. They were nearly identical to each other. Their physical similarities were undeniable and could not be overlooked or relegated to coincidence.
Another reality was revealing itself. It made no sense to either one of them. Had they been misled with the stories of their births? Were they twins that had been separated? They were mirror images of each other. Ashta and Anak knew that they must certainly be twins.
Confused and bewildered, Ashta and Anak finally broke their stare to turn to Kaanra for answers. But Kaanra remained silent before their unspoken request for information. He was not yet ready to break the spell of the moment.
Ashta, in her home territory, circled Anak slowly, examining all but his back that was pressed against the tree’s trunk. She looked him up and down in disbelief, wondering all the while if he was some kind of illusion. Finally, she returned to her starting position and stood before him again. So many questions welled up in her mind, but she finally settled on the most salient one.
“Are you real?” she asked Anak.
He nodded.
“Well, it is certain that we are twins, though I do not know how this came to be so. Are you somehow son to my parents, Dahlia and Hur of Laresu’u Kal?” Ashta asked.
Anak struggled to find his voice after the shock. His voice cracked as he answered, “No, I am son of Pers’ho and Kanaah of Na’anesh Kal. I am the youngest child of five boys.”
Anak ventured more boldly now with a sure voice. “But how is it that we look the same if we are not of the same blood?” he asked.
Neither knowing the answer, the youths turned once again to regard Kaanra who was silently witnessing this exchange. This time, Kaanra spoke.
“Children, I do not know the answer to that question. I was at Ashta’s birth on that fated night thirteen years ago, and I am certain that no other child was born of her mother’s womb.”
Ashta’s eyes widened in surprise. She had not known that Kaanra had attended her birth. He had never told her that before, and it had never occurred to her to ask, even though she knew that her mother had birthed her at the very temple where she now lived and that Kaanra had been at the temple since he was a boy. But the practice of the temple masters holding space for the mothers in the temples had ceased after the year of Ashta and Anak’s births.
Even though the temple masters did not know exactly how the prophecy would be fulfilled, they had known on that night of the spring equinox thirteen years before, when the stars had shone so brightly, that the wait had come to an end. That was the last time that women giving birth on that special night would labor within temple walls.
Even the people had felt that something miraculous had come to pass on that destined night, and they had not returned to hold space outside of the temples on the following year. In the absence of this tradition, it did not occur to Ashta that a temple master would have been in the room with her parents as her mother gave birth.
“It must be the Creator who can make anything happen. There are no limitations to what Creator can do for it is Creator who has set the laws of the world. Creator can bend the laws as needed for a story to unfold,” Kaanra said.
Ashta and Anak gazed at each other again, striking amber eyes looking into their reflection. At the same time, they both turned back to Kaanra and asked, “But why?”
An unexpected shudder ran through Kaanra, causing his still-broad shoulders to shake. Seeing Ashta and Anak, almost identical, standing side by side and asking the same question at the same time was a foreshadowing of the power to come through the children’s connection.
Was it time? Was it time to tell the children of the prophecy what Dann had forecasted over two hundred years before? Though Kaanra had suspected who Ashta was her whole life, he had not told her of the prophecy. He had allowed her to develop her sense of self firmly before telling her that she had come to earth to save the world or, at the very least, to change it. Kaanra had feared that knowledge would damage the development of Ashta’s sense of ego. It was important that the ego be healthy and in balance and not overtake her being.
But now, Kaanra knew it was time to tell them. They should know their destinies.
“Children, follow me,” Kaanra said. “I have a tale to tell you.”
13 The Prophecy of the Golden Children
Kaanra sat the children down at his favorite spot along the River Haakal. It was the place where he always went when he wanted to contemplate the glory of life. An ancient tree had formed a rugged chair with its gnarled roots that supported his body in all the right places. Nature beckoned him and invited him to sit there. He found it appropriate to bring these most special children to his special spot. Kaanra took his seat on the tree’s trunk, and the children sat across from him on the sprawl of roots that spanned out at the base of the tree.
Ashta and Anak looked up at Kaanra with eager faces, but they did not hurry the master in any way. Having been trained at the temples since the age of seven, Ashta and Anak had both learned quietude and respect. They knew that their masters were not to be hastened. From experience, they knew that many lessons needed to unfold in their own time. They knew to work with a divine sense of timing and to resist the temptation to allow their human sense of time to direct them. So they waited, faces upturned to their master. Without preamble, Kaanra began.
“Two hundred years ago, there lived a great prophet. His name was Dann. He lived in a small oasis outside of the village of Rahn’ha. Dann was an extraordinary human being in our history for he heard his higher guidance extremely clearly. This was his purpose on earth. He was to aid humanity with his prophecies.”
Kaanra took a deep breath before continuing; he knew that what he was about to reveal would forever transform the lives of the children who sat before him. Kaanra looked at them. They were so beautiful, their innocent faces radiating Creator’s beauty. Kaanra wondered if the information he was about to share with them would change them, if they would feel the weight of the world on their shoulders. Regardless of the outcome, Kaanra knew he had to go on. He exhaled and steadied himself.
“My children, the great
Dann’s most important prophecy concerned the birth of twins that would change the world,” Kaanra said.
After this revelation, Kaanra looked carefully into each of the children’s eyes to gauge their reaction to what he had just said. He was both surprised and amused by what he found there. Neither face revealed the understanding that Kaanra spoke of them. Ashta and Anak had been raised in teachings of humility and service to humanity. The notion that they were extraordinary did not occur to them.
The temple masters had raised them with the understanding that all human beings were special children of Creator and that all persons could be amazing if they chose to follow the spiritual path destined for them on this earth. It did not occur to Ashta and Anak that they were the twins of the prophecy, even in the face of the mystery of their physical likeness. Kaanra continued.
“Dann foretold that these twins would be born on the spring equinox, on the very eve that gives birth to new life on our planet.”
Kaanra saw a flicker of movement behind the children’s eyes.
“For two hundred years, the people waited. Dann said the twins would be born on the night of the spring equinox under an unusually bright, starry sky. Every spring equinox for two hundred years, the people gathered in prayer outside of the temples. Everyone was there, from the very young to the very old. Every person who was physically able came to pray for the birth of these twins that would change the world. The people chanted and held space for the miraculous births all night.
“For those two hundred years, all women giving birth on that eve were brought to the temples all across Arnaka. The babies were birthed inside the temples in sacred space. We, the temple masters, chanted and prayed with each of these women until they birthed their babies into the world. We chanted and prayed inside and the people chanted and prayed outside. The prayers were held until the sun rose or until the last baby’s cry was heard throughout the temple.”
Tears glistened in Kaanra’s eyes. He remembered with vivid detail what it was like to be part of such a communal outpouring of prayer and support, of hope for a better future. It had been powerful to see the citizens of Arnaka come together with such faith in their hearts.
Kaanra cleared his throat and continued. “Even though the skies were cloudy on that night every year for two hundred years, we all still gathered in hope that the sky might clear and show amazing bright stars before the sun’s light blotted them out. But every year for two hundred years, the people were disappointed. We gathered at the temples across Arnaka to speak with the people to ensure that their faith in the divine message remained. If it had not been that year, then it would be the next, or another. But the faith had to be held.”
Kaanra smiled; tears gleamed in his eyes. He looked at each of the beautiful children before him. It had finally happened. After such a long time of waiting and praying, the time had finally come. The twins of the prophecy sat before him.
“The last time we sat in prayer anticipating the birth of the twins of the prophecy was on a brilliantly starry spring equinox night. It was the brightest night any of us had ever seen. Even the eldest among us could not remember ever seeing the stars shine so resplendently. It was as if Creator had painted the sky that night with divine brilliance. Within the temples, we all knew this was the fated night. We chanted with fervor. The prayers were so intense that their vibration was palpable. You could feel the magic in the air. It crackled. That night was exactly thirteen years ago.”
Kaanra had been looking down, following the winding roots of the ancient tree with his sight. As he finished speaking, he looked up. This time, it was Ashta and Anak that had tears in their eyes. They knew they were the twins. They were exactly thirteen years old, both born on the spring equinox in the temples.
Kaanra spoke again. “That night thirteen years ago was the last night that we held vigil for the birth of the twins because we knew that the prophecy had somehow been fulfilled on that destined night. Though we did not understand how the prophecy would unfold as no twins had been born, we knew that fate had been met that night, and we did not gather again the next year.
“I attended your birth, my dear Ashta. I was there when you took your very first breath of air. I heard your cry. I felt your vibration. I knew that you were special though I did not understand how the prophecy would reveal itself. Even now I am surprised at how Creator has worked,” Kaanra said.
“But, Ashta, when I saw you, I knew. I could feel it. I have watched you ever since. I have watched you very closely all of these years, waiting to see how you would blossom and how your great destiny would unfurl.”
“I had no idea,” Ashta said. Her voice was soft and slow, no more than a whisper.
“You were born of Dahlia and Hur in the Temple of the Flowing Waters, the Temple of Laresu’u Kal,” Kaanra told her. “You were born on the spring equinox exactly thirteen years ago under heavenly stars. You were born into magic.
“And you, dear Anak,” Kaanra said as he turned to look at the boy, “I did not attend your birth. However, I know that the temple master that was present identified you. Do you know that the temple master who prayed and held space in the room with your parents during your birth was Rasha?” Anak shook his head no; he had not heard this before.
“Rasha was a beautiful woman who had served the temples as you both have, since she was a small child. Though she was not old, she died several years ago. Creator must have had other uses for her. Perhaps her purpose on earth had been served once she identified you, Anak, as part of this important destiny,” Kaanra said.
“Before she died, Rasha told Oka that she believed you were a part of the prophecy. Like me, she did not understand how it would all unfold, but she knew there was something special about you,” Kaanra said.
“The rumors of both of you spread among the temple masters immediately after your birth. Nevertheless, in just a few months, the rumblings began to fade, and the normal quiet of the temple life resumed. I thought it strange that after waiting for this to happen for two hundred years, it would pass so quickly from awareness. But I always remembered. And I waited.
“And so, beautiful Anak, you who are child to Pers’ho and Kanaah and who were born in the town of the green valleys, in Na’anesh Kal, are also a special being. You have been within the realm of divine magic since the moment of your prophesied birth,” Kaanra said. “And now you meet your divine sister.”
Ashta and Anak sat quietly. Neither knew what to say. Both were in awe.
“Children,” Kaanra said, “though I do not claim to understand more than what I just shared with you, I will be here to support you. In whatever way Creator gives me the capacity, I will help you on your path. And whatever that path may look like, know that you can change the world.”
Kaanra stood. His movements were awkward and strained at first as his body adjusted to standing. Ashta winced as she was reminded of his age. Kaanra placed his hands in front of his heart in prayer. He stood strong now, resolute. He turned first to Ashta.
“Ashta, you have truly been like a child born of my own heart and blood. I have loved you since you first drew breath. Today, I make a vow before Creator to serve you in whatever way I can. I acknowledge that you have been sent to do Creator’s will. I will do everything in my power to help you accomplish your earthly goals. If I can assist you in any way, you may call on me for anything as long as my body walks this planet.”
Kaanra then bowed to Ashta. It was a deep and reverential bow. To Kaanra, age made no difference. It was clear to him that Creator sent these children to earth for an important mission. Tears rolled down Ashta’s cheeks as Kaanra turned to Anak.
“Anak, though you have only known me for days, know that I also love you, and I now make a vow before Creator to assist you in your earthly mission. I will help you with anything that I have the strength to do. So long as I walk this earth, you may call on me.”
Kaanra looked Anak deeply in the eyes and bowed to him with the same reverence that he had shown
Ashta. “I am at your service,” Kaanra told him.
Now Ashta and Anak both had hot tears sliding down their cheeks.
“Though you may not be twins made through human blood, you are twins made by Creator. You are the twins of the prophecy; you are the golden children that Dann spoke of so many years ago. You are brother and sister with a divine mission. You will change the world,” Kaanra said, and his words rang with truth.
From that time on, Ashta and Anak accepted each other as twins. It was the only conclusion they could reach when they saw the reflection they were of each other. It was strange for them, to believe so fully a conclusion that baffled the mind. They were twins by virtue of divine hand. They were twins with a divine purpose, destined to fulfill a holy mission. Despite how overwhelming this seemed to them, there was no room for doubt once they looked into each other’s eyes.
As Ashta and Anak began spending time together, they discovered a surprising fact. Like most twins that were born of the same womb, Ashta and Anak shared a deep connection that enabled them to communicate without speech. Once they had finally connected on this earth, they rapidly became intimately bonded. They knew each other’s thoughts as if they were their own.
Both Ashta and Anak embodied the golden children of Dann’s prophecy. They were both actually golden; it was an undeniable physical embodiment of the light they carried within. The strong sun of Arnaka bronzed their skin. Their lean bodies had long muscles that came from running and finding play at every turn in life. They had yellow, wavy hair made bright with the sun’s highlights. They wore their shoulder-length hair loose and wild. But even though their golden skin and blonde hair were luminous, what revealed the strength of their inner light was their eyes. Both Ashta and Anak had unique yellow, cat-like eyes. They were the eyes of lions.
The sun rose on yet another beautiful day. Sand sparkled. Lush green reeds and grasses lined the banks of the Haakal, offering a sharp contrast to the otherwise monotone land of sand. To Ashta, it seemed like a perfect balance of dry and wet, of strain and ease. That was how Ashta and Anak chose to see everything. They looked at things with an eye that sought perfection and divine harmony. When there was suffering, Ashta and Anak were able to intuit the reason for its existence. The twins did not see tragedy in life; instead, they saw divine planning that yielded ultimate spiritual growth and experience.