by JB Penrose
Rachel nodded. “I know your mother’s family was a friend to Mary Magdalene. Our families share much history.”
Sorath smiled. “Those stories have been shared for generations – almost to the point of legend. But today, my destiny is fulfilled.” She leaned forward and fingered the cloth on Rachel’s shoulders. “This is the greatest, most magical achievement in my life. I am grateful to be able to present this to you personally.”
“I was directed here for something to wear at tonight’s celebration but I was unprepared for this beauty. How did you make such a garment?”
Sorath closed her eyes. “In my prayers – stranded somewhere between despair and dedication, an angel appeared in the room. She was the most beautiful being I had ever seen. It was though she was dressed in Light. Her garment was sparkling white; no, it sparkled in every color. I recall that her skin was almost translucent and the golden curls of her hair fell past her shoulders. She didn’t speak to me; she only pulled one strand of her hair and gave it to me with the vision of you standing on the parapet at Mammoth Falls in this mantle.”
“It’s beautiful,” Rachel let the vision of Sorath’s words paint a picture in her own mind. “I am honored that you designed this for my Arrival.”
“The design happened on its own. That single strand of angel hair has woven this entire garment. Once it was completed I put it away until your arrival at my door just now.”
Rachel closely examined the mantle draped around her shoulders. The weave reflected light from every direction, crystalline in color and seamless in its design. Fashion was something Rachel knew something about, which meant she recognized the uniqueness of this garment. Just holding it brought to mind the strange woman she had seen at John’s party only a few weeks previous. It was not so far-fetched to use an angel description for her appearance either; Rachel recalled her long golden-white curls and the white gown she wore. It was much like the garment she held in her hands.
“This is the most beautiful mantle I have ever seen or had the pleasure to wear; that you accepted a gift from an angel and made a gift for me is beyond any words of gratitude I can express.”
“I only wish that my sons were here to share our family’s service and dedication to the Spokesmon.”
“I’ve met your sons, both Gideon and Gabriel. Fine men, both are dedicated to service as their mother’s example has shown.” Rachel patted Sorath’s arm with assurance. “When I found my way to your home I was not expecting this expression love and beauty. I would have known I can count on your family in every instance, but I am honored to accept the full history of your family’s service, present and past.”
“Acting as One,” Sorath spoke quietly. “Let us always do God’s work, learn the Masters’ lessons, and manifest the Spokesmon’s dreams. I am humbled to present my gift.”
“As am I, for my own part in this glorious Life.” Rachel closed her eyes and felt her heart swell, pinged by communion with the Oracle. “Thank you again.”
“Forgive me for my forwardness,” Sorath continued, slightly embarrassed. “It was the tailor’s job to stock your wardrobe with a variety of selection.”
“Yes, I noticed the range of choices. Now I can thank you personally,” Rachel smiled.
“Well, again,” Sorath hesitated for a moment. “In the vision, that mantle was being worn over the blue uwagi, you might have seen it hanging in the wardrobe. But I’m sure anything you chose to wear it with will be beautiful.”
“I remember the garment,” Rachel recalled, “and I’m sure it’s a perfect match. Thank you, again, for your consideration.”
“I am honored,” Sorath assured her.
Rachel stood. She held the garment close to her, lightweight yet warm, and followed Sorath to the doorway in silence. Before leaving, she leaned in to kiss Sorath on the cheek. “Thank you, my sister. It is I who am honored.”
Iscar was determined to enjoy himself. This was the moment he had waited for, the moment he had planned for; the moment that would redeem his entire, long, crazy life. He wasn’t about to let Kerroon change any of those plans.
The claw mark on his arm continued to itch; pain was something he was unaccustomed to feeling. He might have underrated what others had dealt with but Iscar could live with it. Pain was something he could ignore.
Iscar tried not to see it as a sign of some change-to-come, or that a change had already happened. There was a certain feeling he would get when someone would be Arriving at Delphi. The feeling today was heavier; he knew Peter’s arrival would only be the start of trouble.
His experience in the Stream of Consciousness with Kerroon had been different from any past experiences. Iscar had always controlled the Stream; this time the connection they shared with the Oracle had taken them to a separate location, somewhere that put them on equal ground. Equal ground! In Delphi Iscar had the advantage. He knew Peter was on his way, and Iscar was determined to be ready. He would need to keep the upper hand on the situation.
His palm pressed against a control panel inlaid onto the surface of the table.
“Mirror.” The wall panel in front of him converted to a reflective surface.
He scrutinized the detail of his uniform from every angle. The collar was short; the shoulders squared. Iscar preferred the sharp, crisp lines of a fitted jumpsuit to the loose fit of a tunic and boots as most Delphians wore. He rubbed his sleeve and felt the bandage secured underneath, covered with a plastic wrap to prevent any blood from showing if the wound were to open again. Satisfied with his look he replaced his palm to the control.
“Wall.” The mirror vanished.
There was an undercurrent of energy in Delphi in addition to the banquet activity at Malkuth. He felt the excitement of the Spokesmon’s Arrival as well as their anticipation of the Twilight Gathering. Even considering Kerroon’s proximity, Gabriel’s betrayal, or Donnally’s disappearance Iscar knew there was something else in the air tonight.
Celebration of the century! He always knew this day would arrive, not that the events were happening as Iscar pictured. With each step of introducing her to Delphi, he knew he was losing any control he once had of shaping the outcome.
His pace toward the Spokesmon’s quarters was measured. He felt Delphi’s excitement; he wondered if they felt his hesitation.
Iscar projected his thought past the door and found the common room of the Spokesmon’s residence empty. He hoped the Spokesmon was comfortable here; there was an entire city dedicated to providing everything she needed. He projected his arrival announcement forward and caught a mental connection that she had heard him; he entered and waited.
A tray of coffee and tea sat on the table, with a steamy selection of foods from the kitchen; Iscar could see that Rachel had sampled several items. He was glad she had eaten something before the ceremony. Arrival celebrations tended to go on for a while and dinner would be last.
Even with his back turned he noticed the luminance that brightened the room. When he turned around - seconds before Rachel entered, he was startled by her radiance.
The sky blue uwagi, a narrower version of a Japanese kimono that she wore, fit her smoothly, but the mantle she wore over the garment was a fabric unfamiliar to him. When she moved, the crystalline threads reflected every color yet remained pure and white to the eye. It was as if she floated toward him. He was unsure if the brilliance of light was from her person or the garment, but her beauty tonight was unparalleled.
Rachel’s dark hair was pinned with a gardenia over one ear, and then fell loosely down her back in curls. He had never noticed how her eyes were the blue shade of a sunrise but tonight he was sure everyone in Delphi would see the same thing.
“I see that Delphi had gifts for the Spokesmon of which I was unaware.” He remained stoic in his crisp uniform.
“And does that bother you?”
“Not at all,” he admitted. “We are all here to serve the Spokesmon. This celebration is for you, and I’m pleased to see that Delphi is rea
dy.”
“I made a few visits around the city after you left me this morning. Is it still daytime?” She thought about it. “No, that’s right. Fairidai said this was a twilight Gathering.”
“Twilight is only a gauge of the lighting effect,” he told her. “We really don’t measure day or night.”
She nodded. “It takes some time to get accustomed.”
“You look ready for the celebration,” he told her. “It will truly be a celebration of the century.”
A strange expression crossed her face and Rachel closed her eyes, silent for a few seconds. “I think it’s time,” she finally said. He saw her smile reappear as she passed through the door.
“Oh, yes,” she handed him the cyto he had given her in the Pathways room. “I’ve been meaning to return this – and I’m wearing the one you gave me upon arrival.” Rachel held her wrist for verification. She paused in the hall area for Iscar to fall into step beside her after slipping the device around his wrist. When she placed her hand on his arm before descending the few steps toward Mammoth Falls, he tried not to grimace at the pressure she put on his wound, and was surprised at the quick fire that charged him with her touch.
The heat burned like ice but lasted only a moment. Rachel had a surprised look on her face, too, but she didn’t ask the question nor linger on the incident. As they walked towards the amphitheater at Malkuth, Iscar noted he no longer felt the itch from his cuts. Rachel healed it with her touch, just as he had seen Jesus do hundreds of times.
Her pace was leisurely and focused on their destination. The hum of activity grew stronger but Iscar knew not even the Spokesmon could sense an individual thought or emotion from anyone in Delphi. That was true until she crossed the threshold of the Main Hall. The cheer that erupted from the Delphians could have lifted her off her feet. It certainly brought everyone in the cavern to theirs. The music immediately changed into song.
Like a breeze felt but never seen
I know you in my heart.
You enfold me ever in your Love
And guide me through the dark.
We believe in Thee.
We believe in Thee.
A star that’s lost in morning’s sun
Is always in the sky.
A never sleeping dream each night
You call me to your side.
we believe in Thee.
We believe in Thee.
The voices were amazingly clear. The melody traveled through the cavern like church bells in Rome but the richness sounded more beautiful than any tabernacle choir. It was the only song ever written by Iscar; the words came to him in an early dream. Although he wrote it for the angel Urica, the words applied to the Spokesmon as well and Delphi adopted it as their own without knowledge of its true origin.
The music changed to a popular movement, a chamber piece that had become an anthem for Arrivals and he smiled at Delphi’s glory; Utopia could exist in this world and tonight’s celebration proved it.
The council edged forward and smiled eagerly as she approached. Iscar released her arm and pushed her forward on her own. This was her celebration. He walked behind her and took mental note of all those, who, in their excitement, forgot to greet him as well.
Everyone had already adapted the new blend of styles Rachel created aboard Septor-I, short belted tunic with soft knee boots and long flowing robes of color, and the women wore gardenia sprays in their hairstyles. Iscar sighed. He had seen fashion trends before.
She hugged the Master Healer like family. “Good to see you again,” she told him.
Iscar watched Rachel weave among those on the stage, pleased to see the Spokesmon so comfortable among the citizens of Delphi. She switched between dialects easily and greeted everyone in their native language, but finally the introductions were over and the Council held back a respectful distance.
Rachel stepped to the parapet and waved to everyone in the cavern. They waved and cheered at her deliberate appearance and Iscar knew after tonight the Spokesmon would never be able to disconnect from Delphi.
The trans-vela had been stopped for the celebration and people sat at small tables that lined every vela throughout the city. Seating in the amphitheater at Malkuth had been rearranged to accommodate more people and bleachers lined the shell of the theater for the Delphi-born. A long table covered with a golden cloth stretched across the center stage for Councilors and special guests. The floral centerpiece was set in a crystal bowl and continued with the theme of gardenias. Iscar knew the perfume would linger long after the ceremony.
There was no sign of the faintness as from her first arrival. The Spokesmon had made a complete transformation into a life she had never known before and even made friends, he sensed. It was just another confirmation he had done the right thing; Kerroon wasn’t needed here.
Iscar stood at the table with the Council until Rachel joined him, and when the music stopped, the cavern quieted with anticipation. He had done it many times, there was no reason to be self-conscious tonight, but Iscar had a tough time concentrating on the Gathering Circle, a group meditation that looped through the entire city by holding hands across and around all ten velas of the Tiphereth walkways and each level of Delphi.
The deliberate attempt to avoid the trappings of religion left Delphi with a few traditions they chose to keep, but modify. The Gathering Circle was a way to connect everyone and the boon of power from so many psi-talents was almost euphoric.
Gideon sat on his left, over-eager to be of service in his brother’s absence; Rachel was to his right. Aaron started the line of councilors that was on her right and Iscar nodded for her to begin the Circle ceremony by taking Aaron’s hand. The Spokesmon closed her eyes after beginning the Circle.
It took a while for the process to completely wrap each level around Delphi but she never wavered or broke the silence. When the Circle brought itself to Iscar for completion, her eyes opened. He offered Rachel his hand. It was small, he noticed.
There was a burst of current when their hands completed the Gathering Circle and it rippled throughout the cavern. The collective power of Delphi’s psi-talent could blow the top off this mountain, again! Iscar acted as the conductor of the Oracle’s energy, and it traveled from hand to hand as a river of thought flowing in shades of pink, violet, green and gold. The meditative vibration of Delphi pulsated around the cavern with fervor.
Aum. The cavern hummed with a single breath. Each heart beat with the pulse of the Oracle. He let it continue until everyone was saturated. Then finally, Iscar spoke.
“We gather in the spirit of the One God. To One who has all, we give all; and receive all blessings in return.”
He whispered aloud for the Rachel’s benefit but he knew from the look on her face that the moment she took his hand she heard the mental recital from everyone in Delphi. He continued the recitation.
“From hand to hand we gather as One. From heart to mind, we share One thought. From beginning to end, our lives blend. Acting as One, let us always do God’s work, learn the Masters’ lessons, and manifest the Spokesmon’s dreams.”
Welcome. He thrust the thought forward.
The greeting echoed back to the Spokesmon with intense feelings of love and affection. Pledges of trust and devotion were directed at her, amplified with every hand it passed through. The power flowing though the loop was almost too much to hold.
Iscar had never been able to do more than channel Delphi’s energy but in his mind, he clearly saw the Spokesmon absorb the energy from Delphi like a sponge. He felt her tremble but she held her stance and only gripped his hand tighter.
When Rachel finally released his hand, all of Delphi awakened. The cavern filled with cheers once again. He led her to the parapet then bowed to her, presenting to Delphi the ultimate gift of his efforts. The Spokesmon had arrived and her love for this city was sealed. His heart was confident that every action which brought him to this moment was worth the price he had paid in this long life.
Iscar had
one last gift. Within his own heart, he blended his love for Delphi to the love for the Spokesmon from every citizen, past or present. Everyone watched in silence as he concentrated those feelings and memories to match the rhythm and pulsation of the Oracle.
Then, with a broad sweep of his hand from his heart to the rise of the cavern, he brought forth a crystalline burst of light. He fed that light the energy and love he had for Delphi, content that he had done his work.
“Trishul.” The name rang out like a song, silent in note but heard by everyone, communicating like the Oracle directly to the heart of Delphi’s citizens.
Iscar’s gift grew in intensity as it rested in the cavern’s heaven. He didn’t know the manifestation would name itself, but it was appropriate the star reflected Shiva’s weapon and the powers of creation, construction, and preservation. That was exactly the source he had drawn upon for this gift to the Spokesmon.
A star was born.
Everyone in the cavern could feel Iscar’s love for Delphi expressed in that Star; Trishul beamed with the love of everyone from Delphi – past, present, and future. As it twinkled, the ambient light of Delphi also changed. The crystal light of the new star danced rhythmically as the volume rose. All of Delphi cheered wildly, and when Rachel finally brought her gaze to Iscar, she curtsied just slightly and offered him her hand.
Together, and triumphant, they returned to their seats.
Just as the cheers began to fade in the cavern, activity began on stage. To the beat of drums offstage, the Children's Parade began. Less than a thousand children had been born in Delphi. Less than seventy-five were living today and only seven, Fairidai’s Tribe, were under the age of twelve.
The parade began with the young adults who carried banners of the Trades in Delphi. They marched in step, solemnly bowing to the Spokesmon and then crisply saluting the Septorian before taking their post at the front of the stage.