“Dreyko Pakola!”
Dreyko could feel the receptionist’s fear across the phone speaker.
“One- one moment, please” the man stammered.
Nine seconds later, there was a voice on the other side of the line.
“Hello?” Shi’mon said.
“Hello to you as well,’ Dreyko attempted to put some humor in his voice but fared poorly. “I just thought I should let you in on a little secret of ours…”
Fourteen seconds later, Shi’mon summoned Yehuda!
***
“I guess it’s time then,” Yehuda said, as he appeared behind Shi’mon.
“Master said we would know when the time was right,” Shi’mon replied walking towards the rock that held so many memories the two the men.
Shi’mon and Yehuda were just two other people among the many pilgrims who visited that part of Israel that was, allegedly, the Garden of Gethsemane. This was the garden in which their master visited right before his arrest and subsequent crucifixion. Shi’mon and Yehuda stared at the rock in reverence; the rock their master had knelt by and prayed for strength, the rock on which beads of sweat had trickled down his temples as droplets of blood. Shi’mon and the ten other apprentices had fallen asleep, and Yehuda was on his way with soldiers to finalize his betrayal of the master.
“The last meal we had with Master,” Shi’mon said but he could not find any more words.
Yehuda waited in silence. He understood what they had felt for each other for two thousand years. The master was dead, betrayed by one of his own apprentices, Yehuda, and denied on multiple occasions by the leader of the apprentices, Shi’mon. Purpose or not, Shi’mon was justified in his hatred for him, Yehuda. Even before that fateful night he betrayed the master, Shi’mon was furious at him for his atrocious indiscretions with Master’s wife. It was wrong on every account and Yehuda regretted his deeds ever since.
Two thousand years later, he had still not found peace. Two thousand years later, he had still not had the courage to face Miryam, talk less of her daughter; Master’s daughter. Even though Shi’mon himself was a far cry from perfection, Shi’mon was justified in hating him. His sense of self-preservation had led him thus far. The two men disliked each other prior to the death of their master. But after the death of their master, their dislike for each other had morphed into hatred, born of guilt for their roles their master’s death, as well as the blame that ensued for each apprentice becoming soulless.
But with humanity facing the threat of extinction, these two apprentices must let the past be the past and forge a new bond, for the sake of humankind. The Bright Eyes were united in a common goal and, therefore, arch enemies or not, they too must be united. It was a matter of utmost urgency, a matter of life or death. It was a matter of the survival of the species and for the very soul of Earth Realm. But first, they required an esoteric upgrade and to have this upgrade, they would have to each face an even greater enemy on fair, unsullied terrain in no other location than the Shadow of the Soul.
“We must waste no time!” Yehuda said suddenly.
Shi’mon neither moved nor did he hear what Yehuda said. Yehuda understood why. The memories were as fresh to them as if it were yesterday and once again Shi’mon and Yehuda relived their moments of guilt. Neither of them had visited this location for over two millennia. In this garden, Yehuda had placed the kiss of ultimate betrayal upon his master’s cheek. In this garden that the scorpion had stung the lamb. He joined his brother as they both relived their darkest memories and they both knew that this was just a prelude to far worse things to come very shortly.
“We must go,” Shi’mon said a few minutes later and Yehuda nodded in agreement.
They joined a tour and walked like regular folks until they were near a sycamore tree at the northern part of the gate. They then stepped behind the tree and summoned an invisible, translucent barrier on the other side of the tree so that no one saw them casually walk into invisibility. Even if anyone did, no one would remember seeing them in the first place. They appeared in a vast desert of snow and temperatures that would cause a normal, unprotected human to freeze to death almost instantly. But the former apprentices of Yeshua had elevated their chi to counteract the inhumane temperatures. Even the blizzard, with winds whisking by at more than a hundred miles per hour, did not faze them at all.
“I remember the first time Master brought me here,” Yehuda spoke with fondness and smiled for the first time that day. “It was the very first time I saw snow.”
“I know,” Shi’mon replied, also smiling at Yehuda for the first time in over two millennia. “Antarctica is most amazing and intriguing.”
“There it is,” Yehuda said, pointing to his left.
They teleported over to the flat top of the structure Yehuda had pointed at. It stuck out at about a hundred and fifty feet above the snow. To the untrained eye, this tip of the eight-hundred-foot pyramid, completely covered in the purest of white marble, would have been invisible in the harsh blizzard. But these former apprentices were anything but untrained.
“Would you mind doing the honors?” Shi’mon asked, gesturing downward.
“The honor is for the leader,” Yehuda replied.
“And I defer that honor to you, Yehuda,” Shi’mon countered and took a step back.
Yehuda took this as a possible sign of reconciliation and nodded. He dropped to a knee, melting the snow around him with his chi in the process. He traced two symbols with his right index finger on the marble, and the symbols appeared as golden glyphs. He stood up, and Shi’mon stepped close to him. A beam of pure, white light beamed upwards from the pyramid’s top and engulfed them, teleporting them to a pitch-black chamber in the pyramid.
“Let there be light,” Shi’mon commanded.
The chamber registered and accepted his level of awakening. It resonated with his frequency, and the chamber lit up, but not from any light source in particular. The illumination manifested from nothingness.
“Behold! The Hall of Death,” Yehuda said, letting his eyes wander around the chamber.
The walls, ceiling, and floor stretched to nothingness, to oblivion. But it was part and parcel of the pyramid. The pyramid served as a portal between the Earth Realm and another level of existence that the apprentices were about to find out for the first time. In the center of the hall were four sarcophagi, each faced a different and opposite direction from the other.
“Master never told us what we would find in here,” Yehuda remarked.
“True,” Shi’mon agreed. “But he also said to trust in ourselves and be patient. We chose this path for a reason, and Creation will never abandon us.”
“Even when it comes to dying the true death?” Yehuda asked rhetorically.
“Well, we must, first of all, choose the right sarcophagi,” Shi’mon reminded him.
“Or let them choose us,” Yehuda corrected him.
Both men stepped towards the sarcophagi and waited. They emptied their minds of everything and became still by their own nature. After what seemed to be an eternity, two sarcophagi opposite from each other glowed and hummed with the sound of OM. The two men looked at each other, nodded, and each man walked towards a humming sarcophagus. A handprint slowly manifested at the crown of each sarcophagus, and both men placed a hand in it.
There was a click, followed by a louder OM sound as the lid of each sarcophagus levitated weightlessly in the air. Each lid may have weighed at least half a ton. Each apprentice floated into their respective sarcophagus, which, on the inside, appeared to be bottomless. So, they lay suspended in midair as the lids slowly descended to close them in it.
“Good luck, brother,” Yehuda called out.
“I’ll see you soon, brother,” Shi’mon called back, and the lids sealed shut.
The two men were instantly plunged in pitch blackness. They lay there, waiting to see what would happen next. Then, Shi’mon blinked and was surprised to find himself on a beach with beautiful, gray sands. He h
ad on a pair of green shorts and a flowery shirt. He was casting a fishing line into the waters.
“Did you catch anything yet?” a voice asked from behind him.
Startled, he whipped his head around. His eyes fell upon the most beautiful, flawless and perfect sight he had ever seen, wearing nothing, except for very scanty bikini.
“Who are you?” Shi’mon asked.
His fishing line disappeared, the beach and sea vanished, and he discovered that he was a chamber with white marble, seamless walls, and floor, wearing a white robe and sitting on a bed that was seamless with the floor.
“Hello Shi’mon!” a voice greeted him warmly. “You can call me Priya. Welcome to the Realm-Dimension of Akasha. Welcome to the Shadow of the Soul!”
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE: PRELUDE TO DENIAL
Shi’mon was heading over to the master’s house one evening. He wanted to seek the master’s counsel on a few things. He thought going after dinner hours would be best. It was a nice walk in the cool, slightly breezy evening. When he was close to the Yeshua’s house, he heard some faint moans and groans coming from the house and realized that he had picked a bad time to visit. So Shi’mon decided he would just return home and seek the master the following day. It was not a pressing matter. But when he turned around to leave, some movement up the road caught his attention. He wanted to ignore the movement but a second glance revealed that it was the master who was coming down the hill. If that was the master coming down the hill, then who was in the master’s house?
The implications of the situation were dire, but Shi’mon had to make certain for himself. So, instead of returning home, he hid in the bushes and waited. He was extremely disappointed that Miryam, of all people, could have stepped out on her husband! And whoever she was stepping out with, Shi’mon was confident Yeshua would not let that person have an easy way out. Shi’mon could feel his anticipation growing! He could feel his excitement rising! Would the master be discreet about the situation or was the master going to let these adulterers feel the full blast of his rage? There was only one way to find out.
Shi’mon observed as his master suddenly stop in his path and just stare at his domicile. Yeshua waited patiently for a few minutes before he resumed walking, slowly, towards his house. Yeshua stopped in front of the door and waited for a few moments more. What is he doing? Shimon asked himself. Finally, the master called out lovingly to his wife and asked if she were home, even though he knew his wife was home. Within seconds, the naked figure of a man quickly crawled out the back window, clutching his garments in his hands, as Miryam replied to her husband in like-manner. Shi’mon burned with fury when he saw who Miryam’s partner in sin was. And when the harsher reality hit Shi’mon that the master knew that Yehuda was committing adultery with Miryam and did nothing about it, he was so disgusted by both the master and Yehuda that bent over and retched violently.
“I do find it interesting that your master did nothing about the affair,” Priya said calmly.
She was floating next to Shi’mon, who was still burning with fury and disgust.
“Maybe he was in denial,” Shi’mon conceded.
“Oh no, no, no, no, NO, Shi’mon!” Priya countered. “He definitely was aware of the affair. But he must have had his reasons for not doing anything about it, don’t you think?” Priya said, inching closer towards Shi’mon. “Or maybe it was just a sick fantasy of his. Besides, this is not the only time you saw something that made you, um, ‘question’ the master, is it?”
“There is a reason for everything,” Shi’mon said the words as if they were a mantra. “If he knew, and he tolerated it, it must have been for a reason. And I trust my master!”
“What about now?” Priya asked as the scene changed.
Shi’mon was crouching behind a tree in a small garden on the outskirts of town. It was night time and Yochanan, the master, and another young man, a Roman soldier Shi’mon later learned was called Marcus, were sitting around a small fire, having a regular discussion, it seemed. Shi’mon strained his ears, but unfortunately, he was out of earshot. He was not even sure why he had been tailing the master that night, although ever since he had witnessed the sinful situation between Yehuda and Miryam, and the master was unbothered by it, tailing the master had become a habit. And to make matters worse, a Roman soldier was now involved. Why would the master befriend a Roman soldier, an enemy, in the first place? As Shi’mon’s mind raced in many directions, Yoch and the master stood up. The master took Yoch’s face in his hands and brought his face closer to Yoch’s. Anger, disgust and extreme disappointment welled up in Shi’mon’s chest at the despicable sight and he turned his face away.
“Do you remember that night, Shi’mon,” Priya asked telepathically, with a note of victory in her voice. “Do you remember what your master did with those two men?”
“I remember,” Shi’mon replied telepathically.
His eyes welled up with tears of disgust for his master.
“Why do I have to relive this moment? This is not fair!” he cried out telepathically.
When Yeshua pulled his face away from Yoch’s, Marcus had risen to his feet, and it was then that Shi’mon had realized that Marcus was clad in nothing but a thin cloth on his body. The three men had then disappeared into a cave nearby and did not emerge until first light.
“I told you your master does have some sick fantasies, didn’t I?” Priya said as she took a huge bite of an apple.
“This cannot be!” Shi’mon tried to reassure himself without success.
“Oh, believe me, Shi’mon,” Priya countered. “Your eyes do not deceive you!”
Shi’mon chewed on Priya’s words. There was something about her words that seemed to gnaw at his gut. Finally, he had his moment of clarity. ‘Your eyes do not deceive you!’ Priya had said. What he had seen that night was from his vantage point. But since he was in the Shadow of the Soul, he could observe the events of that night from a different vantage point. As such, Shi’mon summoned the scene once again. This time, he moved the scene until his line of sight was perpendicular to the master’s and Yochanan’s. And everything suddenly made perfect sense.
Yeshua and Yochanan had never locked lips. Instead, Yeshua had breathed into Yochanan’s mouth the Breath of Life. The Breath of Life was infused chi, which in turn infuses the recipient’s chi to the point that the recipient of this esoteric breath is either upgraded, reanimated, or de-animated. In other words, the recipient of this breath can either experience an esoteric upgrade, brought back to live if they were dead, and esoteric downgrade, or true death, depending on the intention of the giver of the breath. Shi’mon witnessed as the Breath of Life flowed from Yeshua’s mouth, like a mist of white light, into Yochanan’s mouth. Yoch’s eyes flashed brightly, like those of the Bright Eyes, even though he was not soulless. Yoch had received an esoteric upgrade.
But the upgrade was only temporary because Yeshua promptly withdrew the breath from Yochanan the same way he had given it to Yochanan. The brightness in Yochanan’s eyes gradually faded away until Yochanan’s eyes returned to normal. That night, Yeshua had just given Yochanan a lesson on the Breath of Life. When the two men were done, Marcus then rose to his feet. Together, the three men walked into the cave.
Shi’mon changed the vantage point of the scene so that he could observe what the three men were doing in the cave. In the cave, Marcus lay on a slab of rock as Yeshua performed an esoteric surgery on his body. The esoteric surgery was delicate and lasted all night. When Yeshua was done, Marcus was ready physically, emotionally, mentally and psychically for his purpose, whatever Marcus’ was. There were no ‘sick fantasies’ involved!
“I knew my master had his reasons for doing the things he did!” Shi’mon exclaimed with relief, finally feeling the weight of a two-thousand-year old burden coming off his psyche.
“Touché!” Priya admitted. “But what do you have to say about this?”
“You should have been there, my love!”
Shi’mo
n could identify that voice in his sleep. His gaze fell to the floor, his shoulders drooped, and his heart sank in his chest like a ship’s anvil. He could not turn to face her. Two millennia of guilt and pain, multiplied a thousand-fold in the Shadow of the Soul, would not allow him to turn around and face the bearer of the voice. But then a pair of gentle hands guided his shoulders. Shi’mon could not resist the loving touch of his one, and only, true love as he let Rania turn him around and lift his chin up so that she could look at Shi’mon in the eye.
“You should have been there, my love,” she said again.
“I am so sorry, my love,” Shi’mon replied as tears ran down the corners of his eyes.
Priya sat a few feet away, grinning at the couple.
“There was nothing I could do,” he added weakly.
“How about we find out?” Rania said sternly.
And Shi’mon experienced a side of Rania he had never experienced before; her rage. He was terrified! Rania waved her hand in the air, and a scene unfolded.
It was just another regular day after the fourth full moon. Rania, her two daughters, and four grandchildren were getting ready to go to the market together. Shi’mon was supposed to meet with them later at the butcher’s shop. He was friends with the butcher, and they wanted a good discount on some veal. But first, he had to run a quick errand. For thirty-six years, he had been on the hunt for Yehuda, the traitor, to no avail. But then, he had heard rumors of a stranger in a remote land in the Far East, who had miraculous powers and had never aged a day since he arrived in those lands more than a quarter of a century ago. Shi’mon himself never aged and Rania understood why. She only cared that Shi’mon’s love for her and his family remained as changeless as his physical form.
Shi’mon had teleported to the village and had found Yehuda perfectly blended into the community. He had telepathically asked Yehuda to meet him in a remote area or give the villagers a public demonstration of just what could happen when two soulless creatures duel. Yehuda had agreed to the first option. After creating mini craters, leveling a few hills, uprooting a few trees, breaking and healing bones, crushing and healing internal organs, the two soulless men were too consumed with hatred for each other to comprehend the futility of their fight. And as they fought, Shi’mon thought he heard Rania’s call for help. He ignored it the first time and kept fighting. And then, Shi’mon heard Rania’s call once again, and suddenly he could no longer feel a connection to his wife. Shi’mon had immediately teleported over to his family’s location, but alas he had been a few seconds too late.
The Bright Eyes (The Soulless Ones Book 1) Page 28