A Name for the Miracle/Forever Never/The Dawn of Illusion

Forever Never/The Dawn of Illusion

by Cheryl KP

 copyright 2014

You can find previous chapters under the Forever Never heading in the search bar to the side.

The story continues…..

When we left the Garden, the ceremony of celebration was underway, joined by the Creators, ALL of them, including the dark God Ar’tine, in the form of a magnificent wolf.  But not everyone is convinced of his transformation of Light as Dohman’s Mother joins the circle, angry to see her brother’s creation so close to the miracle of hope.

Perhaps it was M’na’s desperate plea on behalf of the dark God or Mac’s act of defense for his first Creation; but without further intervention, Inion stopped her attack on Ar’tine. The most likely source was the stark realization that she had reacted from her own place of emptiness.  She did not apply any new silken cords; but she refused to remove the ones that now bound the beast.  Dohman’s Creator would not release the beast until she heard the beast speak on his own behalf. Rocking back and forth on her towering, iridescent legs, she waited expectantly.

Ar’tine knew he had to think fast to keep Her at bay but he was good at that, even under the strain of being within a heavy, physical form. Tugging at the cord wrapped around his neck, he feigned a desperate need for air.  Inion loosened the binding so that the wolf might speak; but for emphasis, she tugged those which bound his legs, bringing him completely to the ground near her. He was regaining his own composure and found the voice he so desperately needed to wriggle free in every way.

“Most Divine Mother, I harbor no ill will here in joining this celebration,” the dark god declared, glaring at the owl he knew as the goddess Bandia and continuing to scratch and pull at the sticky fibers of the spider’s web. “I was invited to share in the Sanctification, just as I was asked to help in the Creation of my Son..of Laoch.” He nodded towards the owl.  “I came to offer my blessing as one of the Eternal Realm, along with the Goddess Bandia.” The wolf’s tone bore the desperate undertones of a plea for help from the great owl as he waited for her to confirm his claim.

Of course it was from her simple love of this Creation that Bandia did not disappoint. Quickly she rose to his defense.

“Mother Inion, I brought Ar’tine here with the understanding that all in the Realm were agreed that it was time to move beyond old wounds in the name of Unconditional Love and to represent that love to the new Family, demonstrating what we are trying to accomplish within this child-what we have not seemed able to accomplish within each of us as separate beings.”

Still Inion refused to release the beast but loosened the strands so that he could stand on his feet again.

Eolas sat down upon his stone and Fireann took a step back from his weapons, while Laoch lowered his head in deep sorrow. Eagna and Naofa breathed easily as they tried to calm their nerves.  Still, it wasn’t until the last of those present cried out in protest that Inion released her hold on the beast.  The infant who had lain peacefully still in its Mother’s arms throughout all that had gone before now cried out in great pain and despair at the emptiness that was darkening its welcome to Life.  It was a shriek such as had not been heard from his tiny mouth before that moment.

M’na looked down at her son, his face screwed up in deep need and lifted him to her breast. No, he did not want to suckle. Neither did he become soothed by cuddling or stroking from either mother or father.  Unable to calm him, she looked within.  A faint smile found her lips as she followed an instinct to walk over to where her Mother struggled with A’rtine.  Confidently approaching the humiliated beast, M’na lifted her screaming son in front of the wolf’s face.  Ar’tine ceased struggling with the son of Dohman screeching before him.  Inion was terrified, fearing for the infant’s safety.  (Always fearing)

As soon as he felt the breath of the beast and looked into its eyes, now no longer red, the child’s cries ceased as he reached out a tiny fist toward the creature’s nose.  He opened his hand and grasped it gently.

Ar’tine again felt something that had been missing from his core since As’me was taken from him.  But he wouldn’t be seduced by it again, falling into the hands of those who never trusted, only spoke about the Love he would never fall victim to.  But….he would not harm this child, this one who seemed to be his only true ally in this place.  Neither  would he nurture a soft place for it within his darkened soul. It was as it was.  He began to brush away the threads that clung stubbornly to his physical form.

Inion was ashamed at having been too quick to judge Ar’tine and she released him completely.  The mighty beast breathed slowly, looked around at everyone present, and took a few steps back from M’na.  The new mother, trying to make right what seemed terribly wrong and to be certain the god knew her heart, spoke to him again.

“Wait. I propose no challenge to you, Ar’tine,” she began. Then with emphasis, her eyes directed steadily into the dark recesses of the wolf’s gaze, she continued.  “I simply want to be certain that you and I have a complete understanding.”
Ar’tine shook his fur, licked a sticky blood clot on one paw, and looked back into the eyes of the bold Female. Then he addressed the Mother of Dohman with a cool detached air that he wanted them all to see. “We understand each other very well, brave female.  Now I feel I must be leaving to tend to things on my own world.”

Before Bandia could beg him to stay for the rest of the ceremony, the wolf turned, and within a swirling vapor of angry black mist, it vanished into the night, returning to the Eternal Realm where he licked the wounds to his Ego.

Naofa, who had been quiet as she watched the scene that played out within the circle, suddenly became present once more. Purposefully she moved before the fire, tossing in bundles which sent heady vapors wafting through their senses again.

There was low murmuring as Eolas, Eagna and Laoch exchanged whispers of regret over the turn of events. Inion, Bandia and Mac formed a circle of their own near the fringe of the clearing.

Fireann and M’na were cuddling their son, only just beginning to accept the impact his tiny presence had on the potential disaster that threatened only moments before.

“Don’t feel badly, Inion,” Mac spoke in a comforting whisper.  “It is difficult to find the peace within that allows one to forget the things that have gone before and not to fear them happening again.”

Inion felt the sincerity in her Twin’s words and appreciated his love, and for this she was thankful; however, Bandia was less forgiving of her Mother. When she addressed Inion, she could scarcely keep the anger from rising in her voice.

“It has taken us so long to reach a place where Mac an Mor..”

Mac interrupted, “His name is Ar’tine!”

“Ar’tine then,” Bandia continued. “It has taken so much  healing for him to reach a place where he was forgiving of himself and beginning to allow the Light to enter his Consciousness. And now this has happened. It will likely wound him to the depths once more,” the goddess despaired.

“Then Ar’tine has not truly healed and he does not understand the state of Unconditional Love that knows no need of forgiveness..that bears no grudge,” replied Mac.

Bandia shot an accusatory glance at Inion, “Do any of us, really?”

Inion, already feeling the pangs of guilt creeping into her consciousness, managed a reply, “It is a challenge we all face in the realm of awareness and why we have been brought to this very place today, to celebrate and sanctify the birth of one who will be our hope of oneness within the realm of Creation.  Each of us has in our own way fallen short of our vision of Unconditional Love at some point. It is a true gift, but one we have difficulty accepting Ar’tine more than any of us present.” Inion looked at her daughter with compassion. “It is because he is consumed with the darkness in his soul. He continues to use it as his sense of power. Can you not see that?  Are you prepared to allow anything to destroy what we have so carefully brought to fruition?”

Bandia truly understood the depth of Inion’s concerns even as she reacted in disappointment.  She had reservations about his presence herself, even though it had been she who included Ar’tine in the celebration.  No, she would not have wanted to see it fall apart, not for the sake of any soul present.

“I know my Son,” declared Mac. “The ego is strong in him, strong enough to fight, strong enough to deceive, strong enough to destroy.  And yes, strong enough to love. But in his ego state it is merely his perception of love which will compel his actions. We must continue to love him even as we are loved.  But we must watch for the rising of shadows within him. Even in the realm of Unconditional Love there must be limits when the good of the All That Is becomes threatened.”

They agreed that upon their return to the Realm they would seek Ar’tine out to ensure his understanding of these things. For now, their attention returned to the  celebration of new life.

The starlit sky was fading as the pink-edged line of dawn etched the treetops, indicating the coming of the new sun cycle.  The ceremony must be completed.  The three from the Realm approached the inner circle once more, this time with each standing beside one of their creations.  Bandia took her place beside Laoch, Mac stood over Eolas, and Inion towered over the stone where Eagna sat.  They watched Naofa’s movements as a strange new aroma rose from the fire in the pit.  As she began to speak, the soothing tone of her voice seemed to produce a dreamy state within their minds. The vapors surrounding them created the feeling of displacement, as if they were no longer in the Garden clearing. Naofa’s voice rose in  a lilting tone over their heads into the dusky light.

“This has been a night of welcome, the giving and receiving of gifts, and the exchange of tremendous love.  There is one gift that remains to be presented to our Son of Light.  He awaits the gift of that name which he shall be his alone.  He is the first of those to follow, those who will keep the Light alive on Dohman as its true sons and daughters.”

The Sorceress now faced M’na and her loved ones.  “With our voices and our souls, let us call upon Spiorad Mor to inspire the son of Dohman with the Eternal Love that seeks his stewardship; and may it be our Great Spirit that chooses how he shall be known.”

Naofa raised her arms as she began her song to the sun now rising above the trees; and the others joined in with their own voices, each chanting the words they felt rising from within.  Eolas drummed softly, while Laoch blew softly into his own instrument. Eagna joined her voice with Naofa’s as a deep meditation fill the circle.

The intoxicating vapors filled their senses and dissolved their attachment to the physical; and with their eyes closed none present was aware that the clearing had faded into the serenity of the Inner Garden, that place of miracles which surrounded them now. The crystal spring gurgled beneath the tree of Creation, its trickling waters blending with the voices that echoed into the forest.

M’na held her infant son, calmed once more, in her lap where he slept quietly while Fireann spread his hands upward while raising his voice with the others in their call for Great Spirit’s presence.

Those from the Eternal Realm knew Mor was with them even now and had been throughout the ceremony.  Great Spirit was never away from any living thing. It was only within the individual consciousness that any living essence perceived its separation from the Creator. Knowing this, they added their own Light to the call for Mor to make Its presence known and to call forth the Light of Love within this child’s soul.

Their call floated over the gentle rise of the sun for many moments before a wave of energy overcame them, each in their place. Opening their eyes, each one could see this energy as it left their bodies and moved about the circle.  It was filled with color and light, with a whisper that was as a gentle wind. The hairs on their bodies became rigid as the energy moved among them. Words would never be found to express the ecstasy each experienced within their being in those moments, and none would soon forget.

The whisper seemed to grow more audible as the sun shone brilliant above the forest that was suddenly ablaze; but the light that surrounded them far exceeded the glow of any sun or moon they had ever experienced. Although each tried to look at the light that entered their circle, none could bear it.  Only Inion, Mac and Bandia could gaze into the Presence they knew as their beloved Mor.  They also knew that Its presence, being manifest by subduing the consciousness, would not last long.  Each Creator had the deepest hope that their children would treasure this moment and hold it within their soul memory for all of their physical lives.

Naofa spoke once more, her voice low, in soothing tones that would not disturb their inner visions.

“Spiorad Mor, we know your presence is with us, now and always. We are filled with the Love which you bring to this celebration, calling forth that which has been created in the physical image of its worldly Father and Mother, but which houses the Essence of the All that Is. We understand the magnitude of the responsibility being placed upon his now tiny shoulders.  Eternity’s promise is that, armed with the Unconditional Love of the Realm, he cannot fail in personifying That which created Him. It is our fervent hope that this is the only weapon he will ever need to keep your Love alive on Dohman. Great Spirit, we ask you to now call forth the first Son of Inion’s world, that he may remember your voice and understand your Love for him!”

Naofa bent and lifted the child from M’na’s arms, who willingly allowed her treasure to be taken.

Nestling the first Son of Dohman to her own bosom, The Sorceress returned to the blazing fire pit and dipped her fingers into the fragrant liquid that had been filling the air with comforting vapors. Whispering something inaudible, she cooled them with her breath before gently spreading them onto the infant’s forehead.

“May your dreams be forever blessed with the vision of this moment; and may comfort find you at each turn in the path of this dream called Life.”  She held the child out and into the great swirling vortex of energy and Light, awaiting the blessing of Great Spirit.  The infant cried out once, then fell silent.

Within the forest all was still. Nothing stirred. The chanting and drumming, the humming, had all ceased as those in the sanctity of the ceremony awaited the response of their Creator. Naofa lowered her arms, returning the child to the safety of her bosom, while the blazing fire died to a flicker. Still a brilliant light arose from the pit, too bright for any present to look at.  So quiet was the air that for a moment they thought perhaps Mor had come and gone as they dreamed.

Suddenly, it seemed as though every living thing on Dohman had opened its eyes to the rising sun and begun to speak. Birds began squawking, hulking creatures bellowed in the woods, fish sloshed in the rivers, great ocean waves crashed against the rocks, while winds whistled across the lands and through the forests. At first a chaotic chorus, the noise soon found order as they all spoke together, as one living voice on the world of Inion. All of creation that was filled with the Spirit of Eternity and connected to bring forth this one message.

And then it was.

The sound of Eternal Love filled every fiber of their being. The message vibrated through every living thing, not as though hearing with their ears, but rather as though it integrated every part of everything at once. The voice of Spiorad Mor filled them with peace and longing.

“My Leanai, who please me in all ways, you have done well in your Creations. The Love of Eternity is now, and always will remain, with you-in you, and is never more than a thought away. May the preparation of the soul within this child be but the beginning of the return to Unity. All is One and thus never is One alone. Great is this human child’s gift, greater still his Burden as he moves through a world of Illusion, one which may well attempt to rob him of his most precious Truth-that no Fear exists in Perfect Love. There is  no death, for this life is but an illusion. We are all creators, even the beasts that run and the creatures that fly and swim. All was brought forth from the All that Is, and thusly, can be nothing less than that which It is. You are all my beloved, and you please me with your Existence. Open your eyes, little one.  It is Spiorad Mor which calls you forth to your dream. Come, Am’hain, my One.”

The tiny infant opened his eyes and, for an instant, looked directly into the great Light. Mor spoke again into his soul.

“May you be the first of many who know the completeness of Spirit in the physical. I am with you always…”  And with the last words, the World of Dohman seemed to lose its united rhythm and harmony.   Thus, the voice of Mor became the symphony of the sound of a new day.

Naofa returned Dohman’s son to his parents and M’na looked down upon her Am’hain, dozing peacefully in her arms. There was a faint smile upon his lips. Pulling him to her breast she looked up and, along with the others, caught a fading glimpse of the Eternal Creators moving through the arch and fading into the forest. The fire was gone and everyone felt a peace and comfort that each vowed to keep alive within themselves.

Promises made in the Light are all too often forgotten in the face of crushing darkness.  But they would know many days of Light upon Dohman as Am’hain grew, just as was hoped for and celebrated.

From the dusty surface of Dohman Eile, beneath the noxious vapors that defined his world, Ar’tine continued to lick his wounds. Teetering on the precipice of abysmal eternal darkness, he felt ablaze with sensations. No one had given him credit for the good he had accomplished, and they would not release what had gone before. Even in the face of Unconditional Love, they had denied him his counsel with the mother of humankind on Dohman. No matter, he reasoned.  He could wait; for the two of them would meet another day.

Meanwhile,  they understood one another.  At least she had courage, he thought. At least she was strong.  Oh, how he missed his As’me.  He simply had to convey to Mor that he had indeed healed himself of the darkness which drove him to destroy his daughter. Only then would It allow her return to him. Yes, there were bridges to mend.  The others were returning and he sensed they would seek him out. No time like the present, he mused as he reined in his shadowy Essence and attempted to bring forth the brightest places he could muster from deep within the cavernous hollows of his slowly decaying soul…

to be continued…..

As ever and always, I thank you for reading.  I hope you will leave me a comment or thought. I would love to hear from you!

Love and Light

Cheryl