The Pursuit Of Genesis

7 : William and the Visions

"This so-called uprising of the ranks. It's something related to the energies, related to the Genesis and the third son. William, the person I'm referring to, is with Mary. They will visit you. I'm sure William will, with Mary. He should not know about the war."

"Understo-"

Interrupting his own words, the old man's eyes glanced at the borders of the dry patch of the land his house was on. There he noticed two figures, standing, looking at him with blank expressions. The old man's eyes glanced toward the female figure, noticing the familiar face, Mary, and the identity of the person accompanying him was revealed.

"Understood." He completed and kept the receiver back on the dialer unit. And kept looking at the two.

~~

"William."

A voice whispered in his head and William woke up with a start. On most times these whispering voices, he heard earlier, were of Rivia. . . Rivia Lawrence, that one mysterious girl he once met yet had felt a strong connection to. That one girl, emitting a similar life force to his and Mary's with that indescribable aura. I had the privilege to witness her once, and I'll never have enough words to explain her beauty and her aura as if it was cleansing all the darkness inside me.

But this time, the voice whispered was the voice of a young man, just like him. William found himself in the vicinity of the old mansion in Zora he used to live. The skies were replaced with the scene of the universe and stars and nebulas, the unusual gravitational abnormalities still existed, and the place still had a bluish tinge.

Realising himself, lying on the overgrown grass of the vicinity, he got up.

"William," the voice said. "The fourth son."

William stood up to the voice but didn't bother to reply to the voice. His eyes glanced toward the mansion, toward the main door.

"Come back. . . to me."

A feeling struck William's mind and his feet moved toward the mansion door. His mind, for some reason, burdened as he moved ahead as if a boulder was placed on his head. His feet moved ahead and a feeling of dizziness struck him while thoughts crowded his mind.

"It took me long to realise the true nature of this cruel, messed-up world." The voice appeared again, loud and clear in his head.

He saw people, an image, forming around him. A small child, a little different from him, with the same silver-white hair, with Mary. He saw the child and Mary walk, play, and laugh together before the image faded from his eyes.

"Wake up, the fourth son, open your blinded eyes to the reality of this cruel world. It took me a long and by a hard way to realise. . . that in this world, and every other reality we vessels are forced to create by divines, those filthy cruel figures. . . only pain, suffering and malaise exist as a constant."

"And why bother telling this to me?" William finally replied.

"Cause I can see, you're just like me," the voice said. "Different from the rest- blinded vessels. You have the strength to break out of fate."

William, with his burdened mind, kept moving through the area, ignoring the gravitational abnormalities, toward the door.

More images, and figures, appeared around like a vision. He saw the same child, more grown this time, resembling more to himself, with a man dressed in mountain clothes. He saw him walk, talk and follow the man. They sounded happy, like a family. Mary, in this image, was nowhere to be seen. The strong sounds of howling came before the image faded again.