Forever Never/The Dawn of Illusion
by Cheryl Pennington
all rights reserved for content, written and artisitic
In the land of Dohman, the Daughter of Eternity grows lonely and asks for a companion. In response to her longing, those in the realm agree to create a companion for her. When the daughter of the sister world pleads the same cause to her own God, his reaction is a mixture of jealousy and design. How quickly the desire to please can be entangled with one’s own desires. The betrayal of trust finds its way into consciousness even as love extends itself in Spirit. If you are reading for the first time, you can find the previous chapters in the archives. Look for the black and white bird. This is the sixth installment. If you like what you read, please let me know. I would love to hear any feedback from you, so please do leave a note in the comments if you would like. Thanks for stopping by my blog and be sure to check out the Costa Rica and Louisiana pages as well. This life we are walking through is so very huge, full of emotion, questions and and blind alleys. My hope is to offer comfort in the way of understanding all that we are and what we hoped to be when it all began.
If you like what you read and want to “catch up” just type in Forever Never/The Dawn of Illusion in the Search bar and the other installments of the book are available there. Thank you for sharing this journey with me. 🙂
Forever Never/The Dawn of Illusion
The Story Continues..
XV Mac Returns
“Too long have you been in isolation, Mac. Have you healed your energy and forgotten your fear?” Mor implored Its son to return to the Consciousness of Eternity and begin recreating along with those that loved him.
Mac had indeed known healing within the vastness of Eternal Light, and He would miss the quiet Peace he had grown accustomed to there. But he also missed his Twin and knew she had forgiven him so long ago. Mor was not taking no for an answer. “Your help is needed in a new Creation now. You must know there have been changes in your absence.”
Mac had, of course, seen what occurred on the worlds from his great distance but had only observed in silence and detachment. He was very intrigued by the thought of something new-a fresh beginning; and he had no desire to visit his own world, so disappointed was he in what had become of his great work and the pitiful God that lived upon it. Yet so immense was his Love for this original thought that neither could he destroy it. In a small, dark recess of his being, he secretly hoped it would have destroyed itself.
Mor felt a new sensation.
Inion, thrilled to rejoin her Twin, embraced him in spirit-comforting, loving and accepting him once more. This brought Mor waves of pleasure, for Love was the very reason for Its Being and what It always wanted for all of its Creations. If only they could experience the other intruding sensations as It did- from a distance and with Objectivity. It knew all would always return to Love. Perhaps they would in time; but for now there was much Light in Eternity, and soon there would be the chance to share that Light on Dohman in the form of a new human. Mac was more than pleased to be asked for assistance, to be needed in this process; and it was as a balm to his old wounds of jealousy and envy.
The body of this human would be drawn from the energy of Dohman, as had it’s Keeper; but its Essence would come from Mac’s masculine energy as a way to balance that of the feminine in M’na. In this way the desire was to create a harmony upon Inion’s world as had once been known in Eternity. It was in this Spirit of Unity that Mor, Inion, Mac, and Bandia put their idea into motion.
XVI He Comes
As M’na slept deeply, a new miracle was brushing across her world. Once again Bandia swept her hand over the lands below, gathering its energy, fluidity and form. Drawing strength from the immovable mountains and fertility from the dark earth, she blew her breath to create a swirling cloud. Slowly it gathered all that was to be its center; then she loosed it to its purpose where it swept the surface of Dohman, drawing something from every creature that walked, crawled, slithered and flew.
Bandia called the light of the new moon above her world to whisper to this soul, softening the hard edges of its masculine origin. This human, her son, would not be touched with the power of shape-shifting as M’na had been. The Keeper of Dohman was gifted thusly so that she would be able to commune with all living things in her world, to offer comfort and feel their kinship; and still…it had not been enough to quench her thirst for a companion. Instead, the goddess provided him with increased physical strength and great stature, causing him to physically rise above Dohman’s Daughter.
This act was not meant to imply his empowerment over anything on their world, but his increased stamina would provide for the protection of it-and its Keeper. Bandia was not certain why, at this time, she found it necessary to prepare in such a way. Perhaps it was the birth of Feminine Intuition, maybe it was a voice from the Light; and, yet again, perhaps it was a cry from the empty space which begged to be heard. But the message was clear to her in that moment. Sometimes it was difficult to separate that which came from Fear and that which came from Unconditional Love. If the goddess had understood the difference, she would have realized that a call from the seat of Love required no action, only Trust and Knowing.
Choosing to acknowledge the word of that inner voice, she gave her son brute physcial strength as a failsafe for his survival while assuring that his spirit was nurtured by a gentler strength. He would still connect with, and understand, the creatures of Dohman as he cared for them together with M’na.
With this human form completed, Bandia retreated while Inion and Mac began their own work. Mac shared his masculine energy with the goddess’s creation, taking care to draw from that place which was most lit by eternal love. As life began to flow within the human form fresh blood began to course through its veins, and the newly created heart began to beat. But it was Inion, gentle Sister, who breathed into his lungs, adding the gift of her loving tenderness. Together, they called forth the new inhabitant of Dohman, the companion of M’na.
“Fireann”, spoke the Twins, “With this breath of life we call you into being for the Love of our Daughter, born from our hope for you and the All that Is. Be as one with this world, with your companion and with your Creators. Remember where Spirit resides. Unite with your Dohman and your companion, and remember those who breathed life into you. Your Creators are always here for you. We are ever watchful.”
At the sound of his name being spoken, this Fireann, the Male, opened his dark eyes and stretched muscled arms upward towards a rising sun. As he opened his mouth to speak, Inion felt a slight twinge of fear rising within her soul at the sight of this masculine energy newly awakened on her beloved world. But there was no roaring destruction to be found in this male. Everything on the world became still and quiet in the face of this newly created energy. It sensed his purpose and waited in reverent awe.
M’na stirred where she lay, still sleeping, but did not awaken. Fireann looked down at the beautiful, sleeping form of his companion-his M’na and took a full measure of the clean, crisp air into his lungs. Turning, he surveyed all that lay before and around him; and with his connection to the Eternal Realm still fresh and strong, he also knew what lie in wait deep within the dark recesses of Eternity.
In that instant he had a fleeting vision in which he experienced a Creation-a brilliant life that was begun with great hope. Quickly the vision was overshadowed by a great darkness and betrayal. He stretched his mind to take in more; but in the face of the Light of Unconditional Love this dismal course faded before he had time to commit it to memory. It would remain as a mere dream to Fireann, but it was an all too real Thought forming in the mind of another.
When the new male spoke for the first time, it was to his Creators. On his knees and in the nakedness that is the definition of birth, Fireann spoke to Mac, Inion and Bandia.
“For my life I thank you.” He looked at the sleeping form of his companion and continued, “I promise that I will know only devotion to the care of our world and commit to the Love of the All That Is, and most especially to my companion. I will never forget your promise of love. We will come to you as one in counsel-and often.”
Bandia knew she must speak quickly to her son, for the heaviness of Dohman was already beginning to affect Fireann’s ability to directly hear her voice. “Fireann, Son of Dohman, it is with the hope of reuniting the true Essence of Oneness and making complete what was first rendered into two, that you were created. Great Spirit desires that you move with the Daughter of Dohman to be as one soul, one Thought, one Love, even as you exist within separate bodies. You must heed the needs of one another, listen and communicate, knowing that you compliment one each other Different only in appearance, we all come from the same Source. If you are lonely and feel an emptiness within, you must first turn to her, seeking the solace you need; so, too, should you be there to help her in the same way. If ever you are unable to find your peace there, you must then come to me so that I may help you to heal whatever your dis-ease may be. If you remain close to Spirit you will never know loneliness or emptiness. Can you do these things in the name of Spiorad Mor?”
“Yes, Mother, in the fullness of Love, I can do all this and more.” Truly he felt great joy in his soul, endless Love in his heart and tremendous strength in his body. He looked down upon the sleeping M’na and took his place next to her, curling his body around her form. Quietly she stirred, for even in sleep she was comforted by his touch; and they slept at length, the physical bond already forming between them.
“It is well with Creation,” said Mor. Great Spirit was enjoying the Love outside of Itself, for Itself and for It’s creations. All that any of them desired would always, of course, be what It desired.
Mac and Inion continued to create many other worlds together, balanced and harmonic; but they did not Create life forms such as that on their Dohmans. Realizing how great the responsibility of balance would be upon such worlds required much Knowledge, and they were only infant souls….
“What has Spiorad Mor answered, Father?” implored As’me. “I grow ever more lonely here upon Dohman. I know that the other-the Light one-now has a companion, someone to walk with and to lie with. I hunger for another being such as myself.”
Perhaps it was the word ‘hunger‘, perhaps it was the burgeoning desire that arose within him to be less alone Himself, or perhaps it was simply that tarry, black vine which now encroached on nearly every lighted space of his soul; but something awakened in the conscious thought of Mac en Mor. He kept it low, hidden from Mor-or so he thought.
Freshly awakened on the ever growing tree of Consciousness, the bitter vine of Betrayal curled its way up to take a look around.
Mac en Mor watched his As’me move in quiet desolation, saw the slump of her form, and observed the lack of enthusiasm she had with His creatures. She was bored. Lonely. He felt her loneliness. “Give her a companion,” came the faint whisper from the dim Light below. “I’ll give her a companion,” came the reply from the Lust now forming in his core. It was from this dark and selfish place that his idea was spawned. It came quickly and he hid it just as quickly, like stowing away a treasure so no one can steal it.
“What are you doing now which has nothing to do with love?!,” demanded Mac.
“Ahhh, finally an appearance from my great Father, who abandoned me with all of this to care for-alone.” He swept his arm across the immensity of the dark world he now ruled. Truly he felt slighted and this new injury had nearly snuffed out what Light remained in his pitted soul. (He did have love, after all. He just didn’t choose to express it as the others did. He preferred a more direct approach, sort of a ‘hands-on‘ situation, if you will.) Never mind that, he thought as he pushed his musings aside. We must not think of it now.
“And what have you been doing, oh great and wonderful Father? I have not heard from you in all these eons. Do you have other sons by now? (he knew well what happened on Dohman and was envious beyond expression). Do they please you more than I do?” Jealousy reigned supreme in Mac en Mor.
Mac felt immense sorrow at what had become of his World. He wanted to reach out and touch As’me, to ease her suffering; but so long had it been since Mac an Mor had allowed or encouraged her communion with Spirit, she seemed to have forgotten how and did not acknowledge his presence. Mac felt her sense of abandonment-an emotion that the God of his world so cruelly had used against her, to control her and keep her by his side.
“I should take this world down to what it was before-pure energy-and return all to the Source for healing. You don’t deserve to be God of anything. There is no Love in you, my Son. And I had much love when I created you.”
“And you had much anger for your Sister I believe. But you were so much stronger then. You wanted more. And look what I have done to increase that which you created. Nothing is stronger than what I have created. Nothing…”
“Stop! There is one who is stronger. Spiorad Mor is the All that IS. If not for our Mother, we would know nothing, we would be as one and in energy remain if not for Her Thought. If you do not learn this then surely it will destroy you, one way or another.”
The Ego was too strong in Mac en Mor, the desire to please or be Loved too far gone; and it had been replaced by the need to control, to dominate and to create more dark energy. His delusion had become his new master. But he thought himself clever..quickly he moved to deflect his Father’s accusations and threats.
“Of course you are right…I will promise to offer communion between As’me and Mor, as well as yourself, if you desire it, Father. Just give me some time to reacquaint her with the process. She has been so busy with her care of your world as of late. We will come to you when she is ready.”
Mac knew these were lies and sensed his deception; but in the face of his own healed core he felt only Unconditional Love for his creations; so he left his Dohman Eile, hoping there was Truth in the God’s words. Hope was such a lovely blossom on the Tree of Consciousness, but one that needed much Light. He went to counsel with Mor as he sought to keep his own Light strong.
Mor knew what was truly in Mac en Mor’s soul but still did not intervene. All was eternal here and all could be saved, It thought. Being Created in Love, something of it must be present within in Mac an Mor’s soul, even though deeply hidden. Mor was always watching, always aware. And deep within Its core, It knew As’me remembered how to commune. She knew she could call Its name. She was simply deep in melancholy. How long would Mac an Mor leave her in such a state? It wondered.
As’me watched all that occurred on Dohman, gazing into her special lake of visions, the one which Mac an Mor had feigned to give to her so she could entertain herself (and he could know of the goings on in Dohman without arousing suspicion). Her sorrow was growing out of her loneliness, but it was overridden by that other emotion, the one which drove her to near madness. The envy she felt for what M’na had been given was winning the struggle between the light in her soul and the dark mists that surrounded her being and drifted into her body even as she breathed.
This Fireann, this male, that walked beside the Keeper of Dohman, providing her new strength and comfort, was the most lovely thing she had ever seen. Surely her God-her Father- could give her an even greater companion. But why did he hesitate? Did Spiorad Mor not think her worthy? Hadn’t she nurtured-no, endured, everything upon this other world? She was a loyal daughter and asked for but one thing, something which had already been granted on the sister World. Or was it her own Creator who hesitated. Soon she began to question…
Mac en Mor knew instantly of her shifting consciousness, and in the face of losing her loyalty and devotion, he hurried his plan into action. Much as he wanted to please his daughter, and as much as he knew he could create something far more appealing and powerful than this Fireann of Dohman, he couldn’t bear the thought of another male in his World, taking his place in the eyes of his As’me and perhaps becoming more in her eyes than her own Creator.
So, as with all plans born of darkness, this one was to bring pain to more than one Light being in Eternity. He, too, had been observing the relationship burgeoning on Dohman, had witnessed the growing bond between the beings there, Human and God alike. He was jealous but, as always, desired no more to be a part of their world as to invite them into his own darkness.
The seeds continued sprouting in the garden of Mac an Mor’s delusions, those perceptions of His power, his Importance, and his Invincibility. Because Mac left him to his devices more and more and because he chose not to commune with Spiorad Mor, he grew to feel a very strong sense of Invincibility and Anonymity, even in the face of the All Knowing Spirit.
Mac en Mor assured As’me that he would produce a companion for her and so began to weave his web of deception; and as with all small creatures, (for in the face of Eternity he was but a Thought) he gave no real consideration to That which could snuff out His very Essence if It so desired. So consumed with his design, he didn’t even consider that his own Creator would know and comprehend his intent even as he was putting it into motion. Mac chose to leave his Son alone, but his Thought was ever pondering his original design.
Acting on his plan, Mac en Mor approached his daughter. “Tonight, my As’me, you will sleep a very deep and beautiful sleep; and when you awake, you will have what you desire. I assure you he will be all and more than you have envisioned….or seen before.” He loathed her deep admiration for the male upon M’na’s world. When she became nervous and seemed to bristle at his knowledge of what she had seen of Fireann and his assumption that he could know of her desire, he sought to ease her discomfort. “Yes, I know what burns in your soul and what you long for”.
He also knew what he longed for. It would remain cowering within that lowest, dark corner of his core until just before he would bring it to life. That way none could know of his intent and try to prevent the unfolding of his plan.
Mac hoped he would abandon this plan and Mor waited for all of Its children to rise to Love. All was done in the name of Love for It’s Creations. But now that very Love was becoming a bit tangled, for to allow one to have its greatest desire could also be in direct opposition to the best interest of another. A new dilemma was presenting itself, but it could be dealt with. All things could be dealt with in Eternity…
On this, the darkest cycle of Dohman Eile’s moons, Mac en Mor was poised to execute his plan. As the mists of his World settled over its gray surface, he dropped the veil of deep serenity and sleep over As’me and she succumbed in complete trust and longing. Then he began his own transformation. He had studied the new male’s form and mannerism, had watched it move on the surface of Dohman, as he conversed with M’na. He watched in bitter envy as they walked together in peace and comfort. But he wanted more. Of course.
So many new seeds budding in the fertile garden of his soul. What greatness he could create if he were to become as form and, with As’me, join physically to bring into their World a being, created both of God and human. How could Spiorad Mor ever turn Its back on such a magnificent thing? It did not matter that Mor had forbidden humans to Create for themselves. He did not care that it had been forbidden for the humans to do anything but commune with their Creators in prayer and be a portal for that same communication with Great Spirit. Great indeed. How much greater could Mac en Mor prove himself than by showing the Creator what wonders It was ignoring? The power of a God within the living strength of a Human form!
As’me lay on her bed of ash and twig, with the night lit only by a few bright spots of light, and she appeared more lovely than ever. It was while in this blissful sleep that Mac en Mor came to stand beside her. He drew breath from the Earth, washed his hands across the Essence of every living thing that crawled, crept or flew and, with the vision of Dohman’s newest member as his model, he began to take human form. His features, though much the same as Fireann’s, were sharper and coarser, his hair raven black and his eyes steely gray. His lips, though soft and inviting, were as red as the new physical blood that now coursed through His veins. He was taller by half than the true Male of Dohman and his limbs were as hard as stone. He flexed his fingers and walked upon the surface of his world, marveling at the cold freshness of it. It was just as he had remembered it from so long ago when he ran with his creations as one of them. But this..THIS body was new..and different. HE was different, greater even than that lesser version of himself that Bandia had created.
Through the mists he came to As’me, softly but with purpose. As he watched her breathing deeply and saw the rise of her breasts, slowly, rhythmically, a new sensation began to rise within his physical body. He knew he could touch her to spark the same sensation within her own body. It would be as a fire that needed quenching. They would join to create a physical God, walking among men. He would finally show this realm who really deserved to be thought great. As’me stirred at the presence of his Essence and turned over. Partially rising and resting on her elbows, she tried to look but her vision was foggy, for Mac en Mor had created a gray veil across her mind to help with the illusion. Still, she struggled to see the flesh and blood male standing before her now. Was this her own Companion? Had Her God finally given her the desire of her heart, someone to talk and commune with, someone as comely as that of her sister on Dohman….yes! Her heart beat with anticipation but something within her felt strange.
There was something more than her soul’s joy at no longer being alone. She was anxiously aware of a new stirring within her body. It was as an aching spark within her belly that cried out to be turned to a flame. As’me was confused, uncomfortable, and so uncertain of what this new sensation meant. The male came and stood above her, then slowly leaned over her body. As she looked into His face, her mind saw only Fireann, even though his lips seemed to vivdly red and so lipid looking-wet as fresh blood. She cast if off as only illusion, brought on by her excitement, and looked deeply into his eyes. Without a word, she yeilded her undying promise to walk with him, be his mate and companion, even as she noticed the complete darkness that lay within those eyes. With only a ribbon of white surrounding the black pupils, his eyes whispered to her. She heard him speak then, although his lips never moved.
“Yes, my As’me, I am here and we will rule together over this Dohman-and many others.”
What did he mean? ‘What others’, she wondered as she tried to regain her conscious thought. The helpless female tried to focus, but her mind remained foggy as his words flowed into her brain, sounding like they were coming from inside a deep cavern.
“We will create something so great and powerful that even Spiorad Mor cannot deny my power or our greatness together, my beloved”. When he brought his mouth over hers, she saw the black coals in his eye sockets flare like embers that burst into flame. He seemed to be inhaling her very Essence as he tried to smother her with kisses, but what did she know of a kiss before now? Somewhere deep inside her body was a longing, a thirst that suddenly needed quenching; and although it frightened her completely, she didn’t want him to stop.
From deep within the small, crystal core of her soul the voices tried to help, to rally to her defense; but too long had she stifled them in favor of her master’s smooth, velvety beckoning. “He will destroy you. Remember what Great Spirit and your Father Mac have spoken. This is not to be.” As’me could not hear them. She heard only his breathing, felt only his longing; and something within her wanted to return them in kind.
Mac en Mor had not lived in human flesh as a God before and was no master of it, as he so arrogantly assumed he would be by virtue of his power. He hadn’t thought of the consequence of his Spirit Essence surging unchecked through this blood and sinew. So great was his desire to consume As’me at that moment that he forgot all else, his idea turned to Passion. That passion started as a smoldering ember below, but as he touched her body and kissed her lips, it turned to flame. That flame engulfed him before he could stop it; and as he lost control of his senses, every place where he touched his precious As’me left a searing brand. She cried out in anguish! Still not knowing in whose presence she was, a new emotion burst into being. Her mouth gaped in horror at the pain she now knew.
She had not sensed true Fear before and was not certain what it meant, only that it was terribly painful; and from the depth of this fear sprang a new vine on the dark tree of her own consciousness. Its’ name was Betrayal. How could her God have sent this tormentor to her? He was supposed to love and protect her, just as the other upon Dohm…the pain was too great to think.
“Mac en Mor, help me! There is something wrong!” He did not hear her and he did not stop. Though he burned her skin with every touch, he was too consumed by desire to extinguish the flame within and wasn’t even aware of the fact that he was destroying that which he had created in Love and so longed to possess.
Mac saw and so did Mor. It was time to stop this. They felt the agony of their youngest creation and knew that there was no real Love in Mac en Mor’s design. There were great rifts in the Light of Eternity, and the sound of splintering shards could be heard throughout the realm.
Mac tried to intervene first but Mor knew it was too late for that. This would require Its own hand. In the blink of Eternity Mor lifted Mac en Mor from his daughter’s writhing body and flung Him back into the dark corners of his world. It turned to save Her from her suffering but already the damage had been done.
As Mac en Mor was torn from her, he began at once to lose his human form and she saw him for the first time as he truly was-her God. She saw his Essence, knew His presence, heard his strangled cries of protest and rage as he was thwarted in his attempt to join his human body with hers. The truth of the betrayal was nearly more than she could stand. The gnarled vine came up her throat and wound around her vocal chords so that she could not even cry out in anguish. Forsaken in her most trusting and hopeful moment, she wanted to cease to exist.
“Mac, tend to your Daughter, and try to repair what is broken in her.” Great Spirit went to Mac an Mor, who was spent from his mischief. He lay huddled in the darkest space of his world, weakened and shameful, trying to hide from the Sight of Great Spirit. Expecting to be drawn back into the oblivion of Original Essence, he thought of everything in a second, of all he would miss, all he could have done, all he had done, what he should have done, how he had been betrayed by his Daughter when they were so close to perfection…he was still searing from the fire of his human form when Mor spoke to him.
“Mac an Mor, Son of my original Essence, Mac. In Love have we allowed you the freedom to Create and be in existence with the All that Is. All that is required of you is to move within Existence in the name of that Love. This is what creates the Light which continues the All; and Existence cannot go on without it. You have continued to create without Unconditional Love, causing a great diminishing in the Light of Existence with every selfish act you carry out. You have created many things from flame; and tonight you were as one on fire yourself as you allowed that flame to nearly consume your greatest joy. For this you will no longer be allowed to create as the God you were. You will not be allowed to drift throughout Eternity. You will be confined to your Dohman Eile, and I release Mac from its care. He has done all that he can do to repair the damage done when he Created from his place of pain. You will now be master of your World, as always, but you will be confined to it. And you will no longer be known as Mac en Mor. You will be known as Ar’tine, for your soul truly is On Fire. It will be your brand, your shield, and your burden-until such time as you understand what being in the Light truly means, until you can show Unconditional Love for yourself and your Creation.
As Mor spoke, Mac en Mor felt the flame sear within his Essence once more, only it brought no pleasure with it this time. It burned just as it had burned his As’me, only far worse; and this fire would never cease until he understood. Overshadowing all of his own pain was his awareness of the agony he had brought upon his beloved creation. That was not what his hope had been, but it was what his desire produced.
From the depths of that dark soul in Ar’tine came splinters of Light-pleading, chanting in great numbers, trying to ease his pain, trying to illuminate the blackness that was his Tormentor; but new tendrils curled their way upward to strangle these voices of remorse. The dark coil rose up within his core and gloried in the flame-that illusion of light; and within its glow his rage, pain and guilt turned to Defiance and Bitterness. He cried out in frustration.
“You have chosen your favorite! It never was me. You never loved me! Nor did my own Creator, as he has abandoned me even now. I don’t need your Love to rule my dark world. One day you will know my power is as great as your own!” And with these last declarations he fled from the face of Great Spirit. Eventually he settled upon the World of Dohman Eile where he would still be allowed to rule, bitter in the knowledge that he would never again he be allowed to create a human form. Fine, he reasoned to himself, there were still things to create, things without the intelligence to betray him….
And so it was..