“Turiya is all around you. It is this forest. Outsiders call it The Forest of Mystery. It is our Empyrean home in this world,” Radine explained. “And it is possible for your home to be both with Gemynd and in Turiya, but only if you are fully Empyrean.”
“Do you mean Gemynd can join me here in Turiya?” Numa asked, feeling hope for the first time since leaving Aerie.
“When you step into who you really are, you can bring him to Turiya.”
Numa looked around her and sighed. Would it be fair to bring Gemynd to such a dreadful place? Would he be better off some place else?
“You do not see Turiya as it truly is,” Radine said, reading Numa’s thoughts as if she’d spoken them aloud.
“Because I am looking with my mind, as you said before,” Numa said curtly. “But this is nonsense to me. I am looking at my surroundings now just as I have always looked at everything.”
“Precisely,” Radine replied. “You have not yet come to understand that your thoughts are not your true nature. When you do, you will see that your mind is actually outside of you and you can observe it just as you are observing me now.”
“My true nature is to not have any thoughts?” Numa asked.
“The true nature of an Empyrean is formless and thoughts are part of form. When you come to fully understand that, you will be able to manipulate form as you wish. This is especially true here in Turiya. For Turiya is a very wondrous place indeed,” Radine said. “Turiya becomes as the observer wishes it to be. Once you accept your Empyrean nature, you will see it as it truly is. Until then, you will see it only through the filter of your human mind. It will be as your thoughts create it to be.”
Numa looked around again, slowly this time. “Do you see Turiya differently than I do?” she asked.
“Oh, yes,” said Radine. “You view it through a filter of fear and so it has become a fearful place for you. For example, you see it through your fear of being trapped and so it appears to have no way out. You see it through your feelings of being abandoned by your mothers and so it has seemed that you’ve been all alone. In reality, however, your mothers have never left your side.”
Numa shook her head. “They made themselves look like trees,” she protested. “I could not have known they were with me.”
“No, Numa,” Radine said sternly. “You made them look like trees.”
“Me?” Numa said and gave Radine a dubious stare. “I could not have done such a thing. I cannot even make dirt move. I have no powers here.”
“They weren’t really trees. But that is how you saw them, because your thoughts created a world where you were alone,” Radine said, her tone now becoming overtly impatient. “And you most certainly do have powers here. They have not left you, you have only forgotten them. You are Empyrean.”
“Stop saying that!” Numa snapped.
“Numa!” Felyse said with a gasp. “Please, forgive her, Radine. She is not herself at the moment.”
“I understand,” Radine replied. “Numa, I will say that you are Empyrean again and again until you believe it. And the sooner you believe it, the sooner you can bring your Gemynd here.”
Numa eyed Radine skeptically. “All I have to do is accept being an Empyrean and I can be reunited with Gemynd?” she asked, afraid to believe it could be that easy.
“More or less,” Radine answered.
“What exactly is it going to take?” Numa asked, dissatisfied with Radine’s answer.
“The first step is to accept your true nature as Empyrean,” Radine said. “And then you will have to learn how to bring him here. It may take some practice.”
Numa pondered it for a moment, but the thought of being with Gemynd was too great a temptation to pass up. “I’ll do it,” she said, rubbing her hands together. “How do I accept my true nature?”
Radine let out a strange-sounding chuckle. “You simply accept it,” she said as though Numa had the intelligence of a stick. “Would you ask how to accept that the sun gives us light? Or that a baby’s body will grow as it ages? No, you simply accept these things as they are. In the same way, simply accept that you are Empyrean.”
Numa pressed her lips together and bit back the tirade that threatened to spill from her mouth. Radine was becoming more and more difficult to tolerate. “Fine,” Numa said and took a deep breath. “I accept my true nature as an Empyrean.”
“Good,” Radine said. “Now believe it this time.”
Numa closed her eyes and quieted her mind as she’d done before. She knew she could believe she was Empyrean if she could make the trees dance as she’d done with the Baldaquin that day in Aerie. She put her attention down deep in her gut and somehow found the place where she’d stored the Baldaquin song. Simply by putting her attention on it, she felt it start to bubble and spiral up her being and out of her throat once more. And she sang the beautiful, mournful song.
As the melody poured from her lips, the world in her mind’s eye began to spin in golden light, spinning and spinning until she saw her beloved Baldaquin form before her eyes. Only it wasn’t the Baldaquin as she’d known it before. It wasn’t the roots and the trunk and the branches of the tree that stood before her, but she could see its very Lifeforce: a golden, pulsing light that vibrated in constant, beautiful movement. Numa remembered glimpsing this when she’d first commanded the water and the tree, but she had allowed herself to forget it until now.
“I see it,” she whispered with awe as she opened her eyes and saw Turiya for the first time. It was glorious and nearly took her breath away. All around her, surged the golden pulses of light, and threads of it merged into her own light, which was faint at first but grew stronger and brighter with every breath. She put her hand to her hair, and it felt silky. She was beautiful once again. Numa could still see the forms and colors of the trees and the grass and the rocks and the pool of water. But within them all, she could see golden, vibrating Lifeforce. And she knew that there was no separation between her and the forest. Just as she could make a fist with her hand, she could bend the grass or ripple the water or even make a hole in the dirt.
“Welcome to Turiya, Numa,” Radine said and gave her a slight bow.
“It is wondrous,” Numa said breathlessly. “Show me all of it.”
“Why don’t you show me?” Radine said. “You can create it now.”
Numa giggled as she flexed her new Empyrean muscles and caused a small hillock to form to the right of the pool. Just for flair, she carpeted the hillock with bright blue and yellow flowers. It was so easy. She did not even have to learn their songs or utter commands. She simply willed it to happen, just as she willed her own breath.
“Lovely,” Radine commented. “What else can you do?”
Numa knew exactly what she’d create next. She charged through the forest until she came upon another clearing that was divided in two by a slow-moving river snaking through it. Numa took a breath and rearranged the trees so that they ringed the clearing and made it a perfect circle. Then she strategically placed boulders, large and small, throughout the river to form footbridges and natural benches. Next, she changed the color of the sky to a deep blue that was so dark it was nearly black. And she dusted it with billions of twinkling white stars. On the horizon, she placed a giant, golden moon that appeared to be close enough to touch.
“Spectacular,” Radine said. “A place to experience night even where there is no time.”
“Let’s call this area Nocturiya,” Numa said, feeling giddy. She danced in the river in her moonlight for several moments before a desire to see more came over her. “Show me some of your creations.”
“Gracewyn, would you like to show her something?” Radine said.
Gracewyn’s golden eyes sparkled and she smiled. “Come with me,” she said and the four of them were instantly transported to a dramatic canyon lined on both sides by sheer, black rock faces stretching to the sky. Vibrant green vines and moss clung to the rocks. All along the canyon floor was a series of striking, turquoise
pools arranged like steps with majestic waterfalls connecting them.
“I call this the Deis’ staircase,” Gracewyn said with a note of pride.
“It’s beautiful, mother,” Numa said.
“Speaking of the Deis,” Radine said as she appeared to hover at the edge of a pool. “Have your mothers taught you about them? And about The Truths?”
“Oh, yes,” Numa replied. “We studied them at length in discipleship.”
“Discipleship?” Radine asked, sounding out the word slowly as though she’d never heard it before.
“It is the school the children attend in Aerie,” Felyse explained.
“Ah,” Radine said, nodding. “So you have learned the Todor version of The Truths.”
“Is there another version?” Numa asked.
Radine sighed. “The Truths were written for us, Numa. For Empyreans,” she said. “Long ago, someone from Todor got a hold of them and compiled them into a book of stories that they made up.”
“The Book of Life?” Numa asked.
“The Truths were never meant for outsiders. They simply cannot make sense to a non-Empyrean and so are left to be interpreted in any number of ways.”
Numa remembered the countless hours Gemynd had spent studying book after book of interpretations on the Truths. She had always thought the Deis had made the Truths vague intentionally so that they could apply to every individual as he saw fit. But now she wasn’t so sure. “They were only meant for us?” she asked again.
Radine, Felyse and Gracewyn all nodded simultaneously. “The real first Truth states that anything with movement has life,” Radine said. “This refers to Lifeforce, of course. When something is alive, it has Lifeforce and Lifeforce is always in motion, always vibrating. Of course, when the crafter of The Book of Life got a hold of it, the words were changed to ‘Anything that can move has life.’ Non-Empyreans cannot see Lifeforce and so they changed the Truths so that they might make better sense to them.”
Numa thought about the Truths. Coming from a perspective of being able to see Lifeforce certainly did make them more clear. “Have all the Truths been changed in Todor?”
“No,” Radine said, shaking her head. “Only the ones that needed to be twisted to make sense.”
“Why did the Deis not create a list of Truths that would have been more pertinent for Todor?” Numa asked. “It seems unfair that the people would have to go to such lengths to have Truths to live by.”
Radine glided across the water, coming to rest at Numa’s side. “The purpose of an Empyrean is to live a life filled with as much Joy as possible in order to reach the goal of truly remembering that we are one with the Deis,” she explained. “We do not concern ourselves in the affairs of Todor. As you will come to learn, the happenings in Todor are very trivial indeed.”
Numa wrinkled her brows. “But what about the fourth Truth?” she protested. “All expressions of The Deis are sacred and equal. So, according to the Deis, Empyreans are equal to the people of Todor.”
“The real Fourth Truth says ‘All Empyreans are sacred and equal’,” Radine replied matter of factly. “The Deis gifted us with the Truths to help us live our purpose: to live in Joy always. It does not matter to us if the people of Todor wish to pervert our Truths for their own use. They can do as they wish. They are of no consequence to us. And they are most certainly not equal to us.”
Numa shook her head. “I don’t agree with that,” she said emphatically. “Gemynd is not only my equal, but superior to me in intelligence. And Soman in physical strength. I won’t subscribe to any belief that says they are beneath me somehow.”
“Let us say for a moment that it is true that the Deis gifted all Life with the power of choice,” Radine said. “Since will is required in order to use the power of choice, it becomes plain to see that the people of Todor are not equal to Empyreans. Iturtians may be the one exception, for they have worked for generations to develop their will, but Zobanites and Terrenes have none. They give their power of choice away without even realizing it.”
“What do you mean?” Numa asked, now genuinely confused.
“I’ll show you,” Radine said and Numa saw her mothers smile excitedly. “We’ll start with something very simple.”
“Learn well, child,” Felyse leaned over and whispered in Numa’s ear.
“Let us say that I desire an apple,” Radine said and her outline seemed to shrug where her shoulders would be. “As an Empyrean, I have the will to make a choice and, in this case, I choose to create an apple.”
Radine put her hand out in front of her, palm up, and an apple suddenly appeared in it. She turned the apple around and around in her hand and then tossed it to Numa. The apple was red and ripe and definitely real. Without wasting another moment, Numa took a bite of the apple. It was delicious and juicy.
“See how easy that was?” Radine asked. “The wills of the people of Todor are so weak that they are at the whim of every external force they encounter. If a Terrene wanted an apple, he would have to plant a seed, grow a tree and hope the tree bore fruit. He would be at the mercy of the soil and water and sunshine and countless other factors. They are forever in the role of victim. There is little Joy to be had in a life like that.”
Numa took another bite of the apple and wiped the juice from her mouth with the back of her hand. “I had never thought of it that way before,” she said. “In Aerie we did spend a lot of our time hoping. Hoping for rain, hoping for sun, hoping the waterfall never dried up.”
“Exactly,” Radine agreed. “Because you are Empyrean, you can bring whatever you desire to you, simply because you can direct your will. Likewise, you can will yourself any place you desire.”
Before she had even finished saying the words, the four of them were suddenly not at the Deis Staircase any longer, but were standing under the Baldaquin Tree.
“Aerie,” Numa gasped and her heart surged in her chest. And just like that, they were back at the Deis Staircase once again.
“If a person from Todor wanted to go somewhere, he would be at the mercy of time and space and his own resources. He lacks the will to simply make it happen,” Radine explained.
“I think I understand,” Numa said. “Now I shall try sending myself back to Aerie.”
“Choose wisely, Numa,” Radine said. “You have been sent from Aerie for a reason. While it is true that you can will yourself back to it, there may be consequences. So be wise in your choosing.”
“I could be banished forever,” she said, remembering the rules of Aerie. “What about Iturtia? Would there be consequences to willing myself there?”
“Every action has consequences,” Radine explained. “That is why you must cultivate wisdom along with Joy. But for now, why not bring Gemynd here?”
“Like the apple?” Numa asked and rubbed her hands together, ready to give it a try.
“Exactly like the apple,” Radine answered.
“What do I do?”
“First take a moment to remember the eighth Truth,” Radine said. “To exert power over another is to make a choice that disrupts the Oneness of Life. So even if you are dealing with a weak-willed creature, it is essential that you always ask permission before manifesting any object to you.”
“How can I ask an object’s permission if it is not already with me?” Numa asked.
“You hold an image of it in your mind’s eye and simply ask,” Radine replied. “Much the way Gemynd must have asked your permission for psychspeak.”
“What?” Numa asked and dropped the apple.
“The love of your life is Iturtian,” Radine said with a haughty laugh. “Surely you know Iturtians have the power to speak through their minds.”
“Gemynd did speak to my mind once,” Numa replied. “But since then I only feel his presence in my mind. He never speaks.”
“You poor dear,” Radine said with a laugh. “All this time you could have been communicating with your love only you did not know it. His presence in your mind means h
e is asking your permission to speak to you.”
Numa gasped and pressed a hand to her chest. “It does?”
“All you have to do is grant him permission,” Radine explained. “And then you can ask his permission to bring him here. If he grants it, use your will to make the choice to bring him here. It really is that simple.”
“Can I do it now?” Numa asked, looking at her mothers.
“You may,” Gracewyn said and grabbed Numa’s hands in hers, giving them a squeeze. “But be careful, darling. Remember that Gemynd will not see Turiya as an Empyrean does. It might be a frightening or even dangerous place to him. His mind is very, very powerful.”
Numa looked at the ground, remembering how Turyia had been an isolated prison when she’d first arrived, before she saw it as it truly was. “I will be cautious,” she said sincerely. “But I so long to see him. To be able to hear his voice, and smell his skin and feel his touch would bring me more Joy than anything else I know of.”
“Very well,” said Radine. “We will leave you to it.” And the three women were suddenly gone, leaving Numa standing on the Deis Staircase alone.
Numa felt the flutter of a thousand butterflies in her stomach at the thought of being with Gemynd again. She had no way of knowing how long it had been since she’d seen him; how much time had passed for him. It could have been days or years, but it felt like a lifetime to her.
“I give you my permission,” she said aloud, but the thought was directed to the interior of her mind, to the place where she felt Gemynd’s presence the strongest.
“Numa? Darling?” she heard Gemynd’s voice inside her head. “I was beginning to give up hope. I’ve been trying to speak to you every moment of every day.”
“I’ve been a fool and only just learned that you were asking my permission,” Numa replied. “I’ve missed you so.”
“And I’ve missed you,” Gemynd gushed. “The thought of your love is the only thing that’s kept me whole.”
Numa closed her eyes and soaked up the sound of his voice. It was the voice she’d heard every day of her life, enlightening her, arguing with her, making her feel safe, making her feel beautiful. It was the voice of home.
Revelation: The Todor Trilogy, Book One Page 20