by Jarod Meyer
“This is the Garden of Medina. I come here to think sometimes,” Achilles said, floating slowly through the archway. William followed, still catching his breath.
“Now, can you tell me how you destroyed those ceramic pots?” Achilles asked.
“I projected. I thought you saw it?” William responded flatly.
“Yes. But how did you project? You failed to do it for an entire day, and night,” Achilles said.
William knew the answer, but he did not say it right away. Achilles turned, his feet kissing the ground softly as he landed. William looked around, mesmerized by the wildlife growing around him. He turned back suddenly, the Guardian commander’s gaze piercing through him.
“I got angry,” William said finally.
“Correct, and you must never do it again,” Achilles cautioned with finality. “Your soul is teetering on the edge of a sword.”
William remained silent.
“Do you remember what color the Archon’s aura was when he first found you on Earth?” The commander asked softly.
“It was the most brilliant light I have ever seen. It drowned out all others,” William replied.
“Quite amazing, was it not?” Achilles said, with a wry grin.
“Do you know what color yours is?”
William was caught off guard, and he thought back to a few minutes ago when he obliterated the firing range. He realized he didn’t know, so he simply shook his head.
“Find out what color your aura is, and you may join the Guardians. You will report to the Guardian’s barracks tomorrow morning after your meditation if you can do this,” Achilles stated, and then vanished in a flash of light.
William looked around. He was in a small courtyard. He’d never been overly fond of plants, but he had to admit the garden was gorgeous.
As if anything in this world could be ugly, he thought sarcastically.
There were sculptures so intricate that it looked as if they could come alive at any moment. Trellises made of stone arched throughout the tiny square, with plants growing around them, twisting and turning through the hard stone. These were some of the first plants William had seen here, besides the long, white grass outside the city. He bent down, astounded at their surreal color and alien appearance. He didn’t recognize a single one, although they were all similar to the plants he had seen before.
William walked for a few more moments, before finding a nice spot to sit down. He settled down cross-legged on a patch of grass just off one of the pathways. The sky spanned expansively above him, allowing him to see the massive celestial bodies hovering throughout the sky. He sighed, and held up his hand palm up, and focused.
Hours passed and his palm remained empty, but he refused to break his focus. On several occasions a spark flared, and one time he even sent a small shockwave out from his body, singeing the grass he was sitting. He was more curious now than angry, and he continued to search for the answer to Achilles’ question.
What color was his soul?
William faded off for a while, drifting into deep thought. It felt similar to his meditations. He came to, his palm still held in the air, but now he could feel the tingle inside him. The same feeling when the urns shattered. He knew now what he had to do. He took the tingle, and moved it. Concentrating and shifting it from the center of his body, up his arm, and out to his palm. Then he let it leak out. He opened his eyes, and to his amazement found a stream of vapor escaping from his hand. He pushed a little harder with his mind and the vapor became more energized. He formed it into a ball. As it took shape, his heart sank.
Hovering in his hand was a tiny crystal ball. It wasn’t white and full of light like other projections he had seen. It wasn’t even clear. The energy appeared opaque, or cloudy It pulsed with energy like Gabe’s had done, and it was very warm.
What did this mean?
William thought to himself, and then he felt sick. He had done things in his life, bad things. He was no angel. Not like the others here. Not like Gabe. His light had been so bright and strong when he saved Angelica that it almost blinded him. Now William understood why people here hated him.
They had earned the right to live in this paradise, and now the Synod had let him, a tainted being, live amongst them. William didn’t know whether to be angry at himself, or the new world around him. He broke down, struggling as the visions of his past life poured out like a waterfall. Tears streamed down his face, and he wept all alone under a sky bright with large, shining stars.
After a while the tears subsided, and William’s back started to itch. He had the sudden feeling that he was being watched.
He jumped to his feet, and called out, “who’s there?”
Only silence greeted him. He waited for a moment longer then shouted again.
“I can hear you,” he bluffed.
This seemed to work because there was a rustling in front of him and a woman stepped out of the bushes.
“Angelica!?” William gasped.
Embarrassment washed over him, and he quickly wiped away the moisture around his eyes.
“It’s okay. I’m sorry I startled you. I just saw you enter the garden with that man, and I thought I would say hello. But you looked like you did not want to talk,” she said sheepishly.
“And so you thought you would…” William started, pointing to the bushes.
“Oh, I’m so sorry,” she said, putting her hands to her head, and turning to leave.
“Wait, no,” William said, taking a few steps and reaching for her. “It’s okay. No harm done. I was just having a little pity party, but I’m done now, so…” he trailed off.
“Did you just project?” she asked slowly, batting her big brown eyes.
William felt his throat go dry.
“You saw that?” William asked, his gaze dropping to the ground.
“Yes, that was very beautiful,” she said, smiling. “From what I understand, this entire garden was created from people’s projections.”
It made perfect sense, as none of it seemed real. He refocused his thoughts, and said, “Not many people would think that my projection is beautiful.”
“William,” she replied, shaking her head and stepping closer, “back on Earth, that night before we came here, I saw a man mistreated by the world. And it crushed me.”
William’s eyes went wide, and locked onto hers.
“You have the choice, William. You can let it get you down, or you can stay positive, and make what you can of your situation,” she said.
William felt more tears bubbling in his eyes, but he forced them back.
“You’re right,” he said, turning away. He could still feel her close behind him.
“They are beautiful, aren’t they?” Angelica asked, pointing towards a cluster of flowers on a bush. They were glowing brightly in the light of the different colored planets and moons. She walked up beside him.
“Yes. Beautiful,” he replied, but he was not looking at the plants. He was looking at her.
Her long brown hair was braided loosely, and fell down her back, which was draped with white cloth much like a toga. Her dark, smooth skin reflected as much light as the flowers. She turned to him, and he snapped his head forward, looking at the flowers once more.
His face flushed, and he knew he’d been caught, but she was kind enough not to say anything. There was a long moment of silence, and then she turned, looking at the large spheres in the sky.
“Do you miss it?” she asked.
William knew she was talking about Earth.
“I don’t,” he said truthfully, staring upwards next to her.
“I had a little sister back home.”
William looked at her again this time with empathy.
“I’m sorry,” he said, but she just shook her head.
“My family, they will mourn for me, but it does me good to know that we will see each other again.” Angelica turned, looking into William’s eyes.
William was rendered breathless. He didn’t
know what to say. He had been in the middle of firefights, with bullets whizzing and snapping around him, and yet, he had never felt these paralyzing affects before. In that moment the plants all around began to glow bright purple. They looked around, as the soft hum of the insects transformed into a melody. The unnatural luminescent glow from the plants seemed to catch the tension in the air.
They walked for a while, soaking in the splendor of it, and finally sat down next to a tree. William had never been one for small talk, so silence quickly overtook the pair. Angelica broke the silence first.
“So, what are some of your favorite things?”
William was dumbfounded. Nobody had ever asked him such a simple yet personal question before. He stumbled over words in his head until finally coming up with something.
“Chocolate,” he sputtered awkwardly.
Angelica burst into laughter and began rolling around in the grass.
“What?” William demanded. “What is so funny?”
“You are,” she replied, continuing to laugh.
“Well, what do you like then?” he asked, scowling and turning away, but Angelica quickly grabbed him by the arm, wrapping his bicep in a hug and pressing her warm skin against his.
“Oh come on, don’t be such a grump!” She tried to make eye contact with him for a few moments before finally sighing.
“I like new born baby kittens, and the feel of sun on my skin. I like my grandmother’s empanadas, and fresh cut pineapples,” she said, smiling warmly. The same smile that had made him stop that night back on Earth.
“What the heck are empanadas?” William asked with a furrowed brow.
“You have never had them?” she asked in shock. “You will come to my home sometime and we will have some. My grandmother still makes the best ones I’ve ever had.”
“Wait. Your grandmother is here?”
“Yes! She found me the day that I was brought here. She helped get me cleaned up before the trial. I have been living with her,” she said excitedly. “What about you? Do you have any family here?”
William scoffed. “Hell no. The people in my family were horrible,” he said, trailing off.
“I can’t imagine they were that bad. What were your parents like?” she asked.
William frowned. Angelica had come from a loving family and clearly did not understand. He breathed out slowly. It didn’t hurt him to talk about it anymore, especially because he was too young to remember most of it. But it was still a part of his past he was ashamed of.
“My father was a drunk. And he liked to beat my mother. One night he beat her so hard she didn’t get back up. He got away with it. When I was older, I read through the case. He pled self defense, saying that she had attacked him with a knife. He must have inflicted the wounds himself because I didn’t see it happen that way,” William said quietly.
Angelica listened, her eyes sad and mouth open.
“I am so sorry, William. Nobody should have to go through that.”
“It only got worse after that. Without my mom to hit, he had to find someone else. I was the only other one around. But what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, I guess,” William said.
Tears formed in her eyes and her face flushed even darker.
“No. No. No. Please don’t cry,” William said, holding up his hands as if a torrent of water was going to come rushing out of her at any moment. “I don’t need pity.”
“I’m sorry it is just so sad,” she responded, as tears rolled down her soft cheeks.
William couldn’t help himself. He reached out and wiped them away. It was an innate reaction that surprised him more than Angelica. He stared into her brown eyes again, totally mesmerized. He didn’t know why she put him in such a stupor. Now would have been the perfect time to lean forward and kiss her, but after a few moments he cleared his throat and turned, looking back out at the glowing purple plant life around them.
The creatures of the night began to play an enchanting melody again as Angelica laid her head on William’s chest. He wrapped his arm around her, taking solace in her company and the shared silence. They sat together for the rest of the night, listening to the lullaby of the garden’s invisible creatures.
Chapter Twelve
Faith
The air was thick with the smell of smoky meats and spicy curry. Those aromas, mixed with heavy incense made it difficult for Angelica to breathe in the small, cramped tent. The structure was made of stitched together canvas and animal hides, propped up by tall stilts of rich, dark mahogany. Angelica noticed how similar it looked to the teepees some nomadic Native American tribes used.
A column of smoke rose from the center of the tent, where the night’s meal cooked on the small fire. Part of her found it odd that the Archonian people still regularly cooked. But then she came to realize that it was the comfort in the idea of cooking and eating, if not just for the wonderful taste, but more for the excuse to socialize. People were laughing, singing, and conversing all around her.
Angelica quietly studied the people in her pilgrimage. There were many young women, like her, but children as well. There were very few men however. She wondered why fewer men found the need to for faith in this second life.
After the passing ceremony, Angelica decided to learn and practice Creqouatl, the primary religion practiced in Archonia. According to Julia, the word itself meant “the spiritual study of oneself”. Much like Autology, or the scientific study of oneself.
As in Buddhism, a person essentially tries to find happiness, before spreading it to others. Unlike Catholism, one of the cardinal rules of Creqouatl is that a person does not witness to other people. In fact, one does not speak of the personal, introspective search at all. And if somebody asks about it, a person invites them to a sermon, and that is the end of it. This is because Creqouatl is not a religion designed to push itself upon others, nor does it expect any reciprocation. The gift for practicing is personal enlightenment, and perhaps a small measure of advice on how to live kindly and spread joy.
After only a few days of learning, Angelica was invited on a pilgrimage to one of the many way shrines of Cre, or “the path”. She’d been so excited to go that she turned in her application for religious leave to the university the very same da y. A few days later she joined up with a group of about five hundred of the most eccentric people she had ever seen.
Julia’s husband had recently departed on a crusade to the mortal plane, and would likely be gone a full Archonian month. Angelica saw the strain it put on her cousin, and insisted she come along. Julia, it turned out, had been practicing Creqouatl for several years, but had as of yet not started her Cre, so it afforded them the opportunity to bond in friendship and faith together.
“Julia, you knew that this was part of his life when you married him,” Angelica said, noting her cousin’s sad, watery eyes.
She was sympathetic to her cousin’s plight, but was quickly moving past the point of comforting her. The tears were, after all, getting a little out of hand. She couldn’t flat out chastise her for her behavior though, because Angelica had probably cried more in the first few days of this new life than Julia had all week.
“Ninety percent of the Guardians that go on crusades return. It’s not completely without danger, but that is the point. He puts himself in the way of the danger to protect the pure souls of Earth,” Angelica said, trying to bring her cousin out of her stupor.
William was training to become a Guardian as well, a thought that made her more than a little anxious. It had been weeks since they had held each other in the garden. Her mind instantly wandered back to his short crop of hair, his muscular body pressed up against hers, and the scratch of his scruffy chin. He’d looked like a mess when she found him on the streets, but he cleaned up well. There was a good man buried inside of him. No one else seemed to want to see it, but she knew it was there.
Her face flushed red when she remembered standing over him that morning, wondering whether she should shake him out of hi
s trance to say goodbye. She’d wanted to, but ultimately decided against it. The flush of heat from her face quickly moved downwards as she roamed over his body in her mind again.
She shook loose from the memory when she heard Julia sob loudly. She put her arm around her cousin in a loving embrace and stared into the fire.
“Rona, how are your feet today?”
“Oh, much better. Thank you, Angelica. It is such a blessing having someone with your healing skills on this pilgrimage.”
Angelica watched the woman walked away, a rising sense of fulfillment warming her inside. She suddenly stopped regretting those years spent changing bedpans and bandages at the memorial hospital.
The haze from the feasting had died away, and the morning warmth filled the tent. She rose and walked outside to find the blazing sun hovering over the horizon. The grime from the previous night coated her skin, helping her decide to stop by the bathing tents. Some in Archonia had taught their mind to prevent dirt from accumulating on their skin, while others could clean themselves with their own energy. Unfortunately, Angelica had to resort to the old fashioned method, for now.
The steaming hot bath felt amazing, and the soaps smelled divine. After her bath she made her way to the breakfast tent. This caravan was no small affair. Five hundred people all practicing to give of themselves was quite a sight to see. With her mind not strong enough to help erect tents, or carry the heavy supply loads, Angelica had been assigned wash and laundry duties.
She sat down and was served a cup of spiced cider, banana berry crepes, and oats with grape jelly and honey. She enjoyed a few bites, chewing and savoring the flavors of each, struggling with the idea the food was simply an illusion. She still felt human, and understood that it would be a slow progression from that to Archonian. Or, so she had been told.
After her breakfast she found her way to the laundry tent, where they already had the steaming baths of water churning the innumerable linen garments in the sudsy detergents. It smelled of lilac and lemons, two of Angelica’s favorites. They put her to work, folding freshly laundered clothing. A woman stood nearby, drying them. Angelica watched her, enthralled. Her energy slowly flowed out of her hands and washed over the cloth, separating the water from the fibers. It took them several hours to complete the laundering, and by the time she exited the tent it was already being taken down around her. The rest of the camp had disappeared and was all loaded onto the many wagons and carts.