The Cycle

Chapter Five

Overhead, in the sky, a black sun stood guard. A thin ring of orange light circled the edge, and radiated a faint halo: the image of a eclipsed sun. It rained lightless rays onto the land, and it was a beautiful darkness. For though it was dark, she saw with perfect clarity. She could make out the live that teemed within the woods. Everything under the dark light was a shade; not because they were influenced by it, like black water and blood underneath the moonlight; but because it was their actual colour. The tree barks were not the brown timber she had come to know, but appeared to pitch black. The leaves and flowers, were coloured — violet, rosewood and magenta. The sounds that emanated from the woods were fast, chattering and loud. Yet it wasn't a scare call. But a wild and inviting one: give in, it sang.
   
    Everything under the false light, was an aberration from the normal. Yet beautiful none the less. Despite the appearance of a suffocating forest, Mabel picked out works of stone masonry, which had vines wrapped around them, that spoke of a lengthy passage of time. The stone works stood like frozen spirits, and lined the pathway laid out by stone kerbs. Which were carved in the shape of little animals. And when she walked past them, reality distorted; and for a moment, she watched the stone sculptures take shape as a distant memory; under the hands of a blurred figure that had the form of a child. And he or she looked at her, looking for an approval for a job well done.
   
    This woods, everything she laid eyes on, caused a strange constriction in her heart. As a young girl, she'd become aware of the presence of a deep void within her soul. And with that awareness, a sense of incompleteness had flooded her being. But here, now, in this strange land; an even stranger awareness licked at the corners of her mind. A sense of completeness. She belonged here. Somehow, this was home. Yet she knew she’d never been here.
   
    Her mind tried to process the strange sights and emotions. "How...?"
   
    "Don't try to understand," Abel said, "you will hurt your head. Greater laws, than the laws of physics, than the laws of nature, have made a home here."
   
    Abel led her across a stone bridge that arched over glistening and rippling waters. A myriad of glow fish flexed their tail and bodies; broke the water surface, and re-submerged with a resounding plop. At the end of the bridge walk, they parted through a jungle of overlapping leaves, and she stopped dead in her tracks.

    "What is this place?"

    "It’s different things to different people: the sanctuary, home, paradise, Eden, an escape, a prison."

    "Prison? How can that be..."

    Before her, what looked like a translucent veil, stretched to the east, then to the west, and then, rose into the heavens. It stood like the passage into yet another world. And through it she saw, yet another sun, that radiated a pale blue light over a land with desert sand.
   
    She approached the veil, passed through after Abel, and it was like swimming through water. She exited, turned back, and right there laid still, the land with an eclipsed sun. She could pick a spot; lie on her back, and the upper part of her body would be under the dark light of the eclipsed sun, and the other half of her would be under the pale blue light. The veil was a barrier that shot upwards and prevented both variants of light from bleeding into each other.
   
    "I will have  words with Anshul," said Abel.
   
    "Who?"

    "The being of colossal fire."

    "Is there a problem?"
   
    "He could have opened a closer gate, but no, he wants us to walk all the way to the settlement. That's just asking for trouble. The patrons can be... vexing."
   
    "Patrons?"

    He tilted his head upwards, with a searching gaze. She followed suit, but saw nothing, just a clear sky devoid of birds. Whatever he expected, she couldn't tell what it was. He abandoned his search, and beckoned her, then led her once more through strange lands.
   
    "A story too long ago, with only parchments for referrals. This world was created by the three faced god, whom your people worship. But the universe is vast and endless, and so, they left slivers of the essence of their being. These slivers developed consciousness, awareness, having wills of their own. But where the three faced god have lived from a time long forgotten, these slivers were children, but powerful still."
   
    "Powerful enough to be considered omnipotent?"
   
    "Omni... Too strong. Immensely powerful will suffice."
   
    "How do you know this?"
   
    "Records, tomes, left by the First man, created by the three faced god. He witnessed the separation of their essence, it said."
   
    "First man? As in the very First of all?"
   
    "Yes."
   
    "That's crazy. How many patrons?"
   
    "Three."
   
    "Extensions of the originals..."
   
    "Yes. Extensions. Vexing autonomous extensions."
   
    Everything he'd told her about his world being one that defied logic, rang truth. From the moment she stepped into this world, she'd felt a harmony. Yet behind the harmony — was a silent struggle. This world reached out, and it brushed her mind; it brushed her soul; it brushed her spirit. There was a veer for her attention; like a battle: where one Force wanted her, and the other Forces fought against it. Not because they wanted her attention, but because they wanted to keep her attention from the one that wanted her.
   
    Abel was right — Greater laws — and not just laws; for she could tell ancient powers had also made their home here.
   
    'Listen to no whispers,' he'd said, while they walked.
   
    For many whispers mesmerized her ears.
   
    'Make no promises,' he'd cautioned, 'you will never be able to fulfill them.'
   
    The whispers made promises and demanded one in return; she ignored them and followed his lead through the land with pale light.
   
   
Where the previous land had been a forest; had felt primal; had an allure to it; had sort to suck her under, till she had no sense of self; but utter devotion to the patron that ruled it.
   
    This one was the picture of purgatory; desolate; a place of punishment. Yet the sands spoke of a trails that where journeyed, in the search for enlightenment.