The baker was looking at Sarah and he smiled. He nodded as if knowing what she was thinking.
“Yes,” he said. “It is good. But I make many good things. Belili will get upset if I always give you pastries but at times…I’ll see what I can do.” The man winked at Sarah as he said this.
“Diet and exercise are good for the mind,” Belili said. She was smiling as she said this. “But on occasion we can make room for your pastries. Come now children let us proceed. Thank you, Percy.”
They continued to walk down the streets of the city. Belili led them to a building near the center of the town. Sarah noted the building was very nondescript.
“This is the Citadel. The building may be plain on the outside,” Belili said. “But inside I am about to show you one of the most amazing creations in all of existence. Its creator, Farinata Uaegli Abertio, designed it to be placed in this building. He did not need pomp and circumstance. True genius just is. And others can recognize the brilliance of it without having to be reminded. What I shall show you today…is true genius.”
Belili pushed open the door to the building and led the children inside. The building was circular. She led them towards a staircase that spiraled downward along the walls. The children followed Belili and together they descended the staircase.
When they reached the bottom of the staircase there was a hallway that curved from the wall towards the center of the structure. There was a room at the end of the hallway and Sarah saw illumination coming from that room.
This is where Belili was leading them. Sarah entered the room with the rest of the children. When she did she was overcome with awe at what she saw.
At the center of the room was a giant crystal. Lights danced in and out of it. There were constant sparks and constant movements emitted from the crystal. Colors swirled all around it. These colors faded away from the crystal like smoke and dissipated. The crystal seemed to hum.
“This children…is Farinata’s Prism,” Belili said.
There were people standing around the prism. They had notebooks with them and tablets. They would stare at the prism and then write information down.
“Prisms bend light waves and can show a spectrum,” Belili explained. “They manipulate the light. This prism works under a similar principle but it is far more amazing. It was the great genius Farinata Uaegli Abertio who first conceived its design. He did not build it but he laid the principles and framework that allowed the generations after him to realize his dream.”
“There are many energies in the universe. In truth the universe is composed of the relationships between energy as it becomes matter and vice versa. There is energy in light. There is quantum energy. There is also cosmic energy. This energy flows through the very fabric of existence. We cannot always see it but it is there. It forms the foundations of what we call reality. These energies are like a thread that holds all existence together.”
“This prism bends those energies as some prisms bend light. It bends them and then harnesses them. From this prism beams of energy erupt and they form a structure of cosmic energy. We exist in that structure of cosmic energy. It creates our Sea of Glass. It creates our Island which floats on that sea. This prism allows us to exist outside of the normal flow of the Multiverse. The very lands we inhabit are a part of it. They are built upon this foundation of energy. This prism harnesses the cosmic energies of the universe in such a way that they become the matter which is the architecture of this home of ours. This prism creates the bubble that allows us to exist out of time and traverse the oceans of infinity.”
“These men and woman you see in this chamber study the Prism. Even after all this time we are still unlocking new discoveries from this amazing device. Its construction is beyond brilliance.”
The children approached the Farinata’s Prism to see it in better detail. As Sarah neared it she felt goosebumps. It was as if she was standing near some great electrical current.
“Look there, children,” Belili said. She pointed to a ring of stones on the floor that surrounded the prism.
“Whenever you are in the Chamber of the Prism remember do not step beyond the ring. We are only mortals and we cannot withstand the energies contained inside the prism.”
The children kept their distance but still studied the structure. Sarah could see a pattern of light buried inside the Prism’s confines. It formed a lattice. As the lines of light moved further from the prism they faded. Sarah realized they did not merely taper off though. She realized that there were other crystals in the walls around the prism. As the lights faded they moved towards these other crystals and into the foundations of this place. Sarah saw some of these lines of light were being refracted upwards along the walls and projected up towards the ceiling. However, before reaching the ceiling the light did something strange. It was as if the light slowed and became thick. It became droplets of light that fell upward.
Sarah was truly awe struck. How great a mind had it taken to harness the energies of the universe into an engine for a vessel, she wondered. This glass world was an offshoot of that.
For the first time Sarah pictured how this new home of hers might look from the outside. It would look like a diamond tumbling through the cosmos.
If an observer saw it what would they think? Sarah wondered. Could they possibly know of the children in this place? Could they possibly imagine that those children might be the last hope of salvation for all there is?
***
The children were led away from the Chamber of the Prism. However, they did not leave the building that housed it. Instead, after moving back to the floor above the Prism, they took a staircase that lead upwards to additional floors.
They entered a room on one of the upper floors of the Citadel and saw that there were several people reviewing tablets. As the children entered the people reviewing the tablets looked up at them then quickly went back to their work.
“These are our Librarians children,” Belili said. “They organize and record the information that is gathered in the Citadel. Some of you may have noticed the light that flows upward from the Prism. That energy is channeled through these floors. It is then reflected and refracted even more.”
“You see children energies like light are both waves and particles. This leads to not certainty but probability.”
Belili led them to another floor. On this floor was a hallway with several doors. They reminded Sarah of the rooms the children had spent years in.
“This is the Hall of Scholars. In these rooms are the best of us. The Scholars in these chambers sift through the movements of light waves and particles untangling the threads of what could be. They follow the paths of circumstance. They do it all from the information that pours from the Prism below. They study the variations emitted from light. It is like a string that is plucked sending a vibration down its length. The Scholars can read those vibrations and they record the results of their studies.”
“The Scholars are able to piece together where the greatest prodigies exist. The Scholars can locate them and then map a course to them. Only those that are as gifted as Joshua can actually physically go to those points. As our vessel moves by those Verses we gather the prodigies from them.”
“Once upon a time these scholars found the histories of all of you. And in those histories they found the best you.”
“Some of you will be very gifted as these Scholars are. And you shall record all that is and all that can be and all that was. The Scholars are historians and prophets. They are what many of us aspire too. They write all the possibilities. They follow all the tangents. They write the derivatives of each instant. They write all that could have been and they look for the one path. The one goal. The path we need to save us all. The path to lead us to salvation.”
“I dreamt of being a Scholar,” Belili said. “But alas I was not gifted enough. Only a select few are. I instead trained as a surgeon and a teacher.”
“Hopefully some of you will be gifted enough to join th
e ranks of the Scholars. Then…you could see what is occurring in different Verses without having to travel to them. Only the most keen and the most brilliant can do this. They are part artist, part composer, part mathematician, and part poet.”
“We don’t know exactly how the Threshold will be reached. We feel perhaps a Scholar will be able to locate it. So, all aspire to eventually be Scholars and to be able to see beyond.”
“Now let us leave this place children and leave the Scholars to their all-important work.”
Belili led the children away but Sarah lingered for a few moments. She stared at the hallway of doors. She noted they were iron. She wondered about those inside them. There was something fearful about this place, but Sarah was not sure what it was.
Isiah stepped beside Sarah. He had waited for her.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” Sarah said. She felt a chill as she stared at the iron doors.
“Yeah,” Isiah replied. “Me too.”
He put his hand on Sarah’s shoulder and gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze. Sarah turned to him and smiled.
“Yeah,” was all she said.
They then went in search of the other children. They found them in the library. Belili had pulled a large book from one of the shelves.
“This is raw data, children,” she was saying. She laid the large book on a table and opened it. “Gather around,” she said.
Sarah looked at the pages in the book. It reminded her of some writing she had once seen in Chinese. However, it also reminded her of math equations.
“The Scholars are the most brilliant of us,” Belili was saying. “Their minds work very fast. Faster than…basic language can keep up with. They see so much information in seconds that if they are not careful details could go unrecorded. Over time we have created Kirjal to compensate for this. Kirjal is a very special writing designed for the most brilliant minds. Each character can express a hundred different ideas at once. It is all in the way each point in the character is articulated. A slash in one direction can mean one thing. Its variation by the slightest degree can mean something different. It is the only way the mind of a Scholar can truly record all that it registers. Because in the next moment the Scholars mind is instantly overwhelmed by a flood of additional information. Even taking the time to find the right word could cause the loss of imperative information.”
“So, the Scholars learn Kirjal. It takes years to learn. It takes much discipline as well. Only the best can learn to write it, and it takes a truly brilliant mind to decipher it. The Scholars do not have time to translate it for us. That is the task of the Librarians. They take this writing and translate and transcribe it into a more standard text.”
Belili pointed to one of the characters on the page before her.
“This character alone could become three volumes worth of information in a standard book format.”
“We will teach you to read Kirjal. Some of you will be able to read it faster than others. Amongst you some of you may become Librarians. Some may even be Scholars. But there is a place for all of you here.”
Belili closed the book and put it back on the shelf. “That is enough for the day children. At your leisure you can move into the city if you like. Simply let me know and we will start to make accommodations for you. Feel free to explore the city today. But try to get to sleep early. Tomorrow you will begin classes.”
The children stood staring blankly at Belili. They had learned much in one afternoon.
Belili clapped her hands together loudly. “Go now children!” she said. Then she smiled.
“I understand. All off this…” she said waving her hands to encompass the room. “It is much to take in. For now…just go…relax. Get something to eat. The city is open to you. Reflect on what you have learned today.”
The children were silent. Slowly one by one they began to leave. Their minds were overwhelmed and most needed solitude.
Sarah decided to go back to her room. It was the one place in this strange world that she felt the most comfortable.
As she left the Citadel she noted Isiah did not leave the building. Instead he went down the stairs to go look again at the Prism.
Sarah did not follow. She needed time to herself. She walked silently through the city streets not focusing on the buildings but instead merely staring at the ground in front of her as she progressed.
Before long she was walking through the fields. She noted many of the children where in the fields too. They did not congregate however. They were lost in their own minds thinking their own thoughts.
In that moment Sarah could not help but wonder how many of them were remembering their own universe. Their own special place.
She wondered how many of them were missing home.
***
The Philosophical Principles of Death. The Scripture of Farinata Uaegli Abertio.
Gospel 002584
There is a pattern hidden in all of existence. There is structure buried in all things. Chaos is a myth. There is no form of pure chaos only an illusion of chaos to a mind which is limited.
I attempt to imagine a Verse of pure chaos. However, even in this chaotic structure perspectives of order can always be established.
In the midst of chaos I assign values. In the midst of chaos I establish a point, a moment. I label this point. All else can then be defined as that which is not the point which I have established. Thus, through this simple identification I am establishing order and structure in the chaotic system. In the chaos of I have established two forms. One form is that which is. The other form is that which is not. From these two forms additional patterns can be built.
Nothing can escape logic. Nothing can escape the structuring of order. No thing can be beyond quantitation. Once a thing is labeled more logic and order can be built upon it. Additional values can be further defined.
As our minds move through chaos we must seek to establish and define order. We must define structure.
When we begin to assign values patterns become evident. Paths becomes clear.
Blessed have I been to be granted communion with God. In the perceived chaos of existence God has shown me the beginning of the one true path. God has granted me visions of structures. These structures can be used as foundations.
God has blessed me with visions of a device. I shall create this structure through which I can complete the will of God. The structure is everything. It will be a tool that can be used to harness the very energies of creation. It will bend and redirect the energies of a seemingly chaotic universe.
Thus, we the chosen people of God can harness and wield the energies of existence. With this tool we can create a power like a ship slicing through the seas of infinity. In doing so we can use this tool, as God would wield his sword, in our mission to burn away all life.
In my mind I see the sword of Shiva. Shiva was the sacred hand of Death. Shiva wielded her sword to burn away the Universe and wake God’s children from the dream of life.
That sword of Shiva was called Trishula. God has blessed me with the knowledge and understanding of his most sacred tool. In doing so God has blessed us as the sacred people who will be the guardians of Trishula.
We will keep the true purpose and name of Trishula secret. Only the Sacred Order of the Dao shall be blessed with a thorough understanding of the mechanisms and true nature of Trishula. They will be the caretakers of Trishula and know when the time has come to unleash the true powers of God’s great instrument.
With Trishula we will have a tool to harness the energies of existence to end all existence.
Verse Five: The Narrative of the Light
The Hall of the Scholars contained many chambers. In each of these chambers resided a mind that was unique and beautiful. In each of these rooms resided a poet genius. Those that occupied these rooms over the centuries had brilliance that was unmatched in all of existence.
In one room a man named Mozart spent decades composing the narrativ
es of millions of Universes. He painted symphonies of the things that were and were yet to come. Another room once housed a man named Isaac Newton. One room had once been occupied by a radical thinker called Einstein. Other occupants had gone by names such as Confucius, Bronte, Lebientz, and Curie.
The inhabitants of these rooms were legends in various Verses. In different threads of reality they reached the highest level of accomplishment. They were revered and their work was studied for centuries after they passed. However, there was one Verse for each of them from where these geniuses had been taken from. There was one Verse for each of them where their absence was felt even though it was unknown. These Verses had been robbed of creations most gifted minds. As children these geniuses had been taken to an Island on a Sea of Glass.
The best version of them had been claimed by the Great and Grand Endeavour. It was explained to them that they were part of a quest to save all there is. The Verse where they were taken from lost something special in what could have been. However, they were taken to work to ensure that what is could always be.
In these chambers, these geniuses from a thousand different Verses studied. They thought. They focused.
Each was different in their work. Some needed seclusion. Some needed to interact with others at times. Genius is never the same. That is part of why it is genius. It is different and it breaks conventions. Some were arrogant. This too was a part of the process though. Ice cold confidence that the impossible could be done was sometimes required.
They all worked at the same goal. They worked to search and sift through the tangled web of the Multiverse to follow the paths that would lead them to more like themselves in the hopes that they could one day find that very special one who could save all of existence.
In the time of this seventy third generation a man named Rahim Hamid currently resided in a chamber in the Hall of Scholars. Rahim was a student of light and sound. In one Verse he had been a composter. In another life he had been a physicist studying the movement of waves in relation to particles.
Prisons of Stolen Dreams Page 9