Angel

Avalon 1.3 The Way of Dreams part 2 of 3

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“Ranear?” Boston tested and the young man nodded. “But didn’t you know we were coming?” Ranear shook his head.

“But Pan knew.” Lieutenant Harper remembered. She kept trying to understand.

Ranear shook his head again. “A little Bluebell told him. That fee used to get around.”

“So, what is the trouble?” Lincoln asked as he got out his notebook. He assumed they would land in the midst of some difficult situation.

“None, I hope. We set off tomorrow.” Ranear turned to the patient elders. “These are friends. Do not be afraid.”

“Angel said that.” Alexis reminded everyone.

“It does come in handy,” Ranear whispered, as one of the elderly men turned and addressed the others.

“If the shaman speaks on behalf of these people, we will welcome them. Make preparations.” The men wandered off and the travelers came into the village.

“Uzen. He is the high chief.” Ranear introduced the old man just before a young woman tackled him. Ranear landed on his back, and she landed on top of him. She kissed him, heartily, and then scolded him.

“Don’t I get to meet your friends?”

“My wife, Azilla.” Ranear introduced the young woman and then he introduced his friends.

Azilla looked at Lieutenant Harper. “You are very white, with yellow hair. And Boston, you are even whiter, and you have freckles.” Ranear, Azilla and their people were dark, Mediterranean looking. “And Captain Decker, you look like a Hivite, but you are not. The Hivites don’t wear fairy weave. I don’t know how I know that. And Mingus, you are an elf. I know that too, somehow. You are an elder elf.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Mingus had his hat in his hand.

“Hello, Roland the elf. You are Mingus’ son. I don’t know how I know that, either. And you,” she turned to Doctor Procter and paused as if studying the man. “You have more beard than face, and you wear covers over your hands. Are you in there?”

“Yes. They are gloves” Doctor Procter raised his hands and spoke softly. “I am trying to protect myself as well as I can. This old body of mine bruises very easily.” That was what he told the others.

“But you are an odd one.” Azilla wrinkled her nose. Ranear thought it was very becoming. He tapped Azilla on the shoulder.

“He is half human,” Boston said.

“Half human, half elf,” Azilla said, and her face brightened. She tried to ignore Ranear, so he had to cough for her attention.

She looked at him sprawled out beneath her. “How can I know these things?”

“You are my beloved wife,” Ranear answered. “Now, can I get up?”

Azilla smiled. “But I was just getting comfortable,” she said, and shifted her position a little to lie more squarely on his chest. He rolled her over with a kiss.

One of the old men who had returned, sighed. “My son.”

“And they have been like this for two whole seasons,” a second man said.

“Two whole seasons,” the third man echoed with a click of his tongue.

“Come,” Ranear’s father spoke to the group. “A place has been made for you near the circle.”

The circle turned out to be the middle of the tent village where they would have neighbors on either side. They made room for the travelers to pitch their tents near the wood they piled in the center. They would make a bonfire and have a feast after their fashion. Lieutenant Harper got very interested in the proceedings since she had never been to a late Neolithic feast before. Lincoln had his notebook out. Everyone felt ready when Mingus made his offer.

“Would my Lord like me to start the fire?”

Ranear looked at the elder elf and smiled. “No thank you, Lord Mingus. Tomorrow we are going north to form a treaty with the Hivites.”

“The Hivites we came across did not seem very interested in peace,” Lockhart said, with only a brief touch to his thigh.

“We will make sacrifices for peace between us. As shaman, I will have to participate in the ceremony. I have been practicing, to get ready.”

“My husband is very powerful,” Azilla said. She looked at Alexis.

“My husband is good at other things,” Alexis smiled.

“Alexis is the witch in our family,” Lincoln said, but he was busy writing in his journal and not really paying attention.

“Really?” Azilla’s eyes went wide with curiosity, but Ranear interrupted her question.

“Watch.” Ranear stretched his hands toward the fire, and it looked very different. With Mingus, the fire was magical. He mumbled and sprinkled some dust on the logs and the fire appeared to rise-up to meet the falling dust. For Ranear, the fire came from his hands and reached the final distance to touch and catch the wood. Ranear tired far more than Mingus from the effort, besides. It looked like the fire was in him in some way, like it came from inside the bogy beast. Now that it got depleted, it would need to be recharged.

“That was very well done,” Mingus praised him.

“That was the easy part,” Ranear responded. “Poor Azilla now has to cook something edible.”

“Not me alone. Would you like to help?” She asked Alexis, no doubt wanting to hear all about her magic. Alexis nodded, and Boston spoke up.

“I can help.” With a look at Captain Decker and then Lockhart, Katie Harper went with them as well.

That night, the travelers felt restless. No one slept well except maybe Doctor Procter. Whatever it was, it was still out there. Fortunately, it seemed reluctant to get too close to the village. But it could wait. That was how Boston described the feeling.

In the morning, Ranear and his troop got ready to head north almost as quickly as the travelers who only had to tell their tents to compress and stick them in their backpacks.

“You are headed to the south,” Ranear spoke, and Doctor Procter nodded. “Of course, I can’t be certain, but I suspect you will find the gate somewhere near the mountain. If that is the case, you should find where we often camp there. If you do, climb the mountain a bit. There is a path, and you will find a cave. It is good for keeping out of the rain and sun and should be big enough to shelter you all for the night.”

“Ranear and I spent our wedding night there,” Azilla said, with the sound of fond memories in her voice.

“Good luck to you in your mission,” Lockhart responded.

“Mountain?” Boston asked.

“Sinai.” Ranear and Mingus spoke together.

“Mount Sinai.” Lieutenant Harper whistled and watched Lincoln write in his notebook.

~~~*~~~

They found the cave easily enough, though it did not seem as big as Ranear described. Still, it would do for the night even if it would be tight quarters. Boston and Katie set up on one side. Lockhart and Captain Decker took the other. The rest laid out somewhere in the middle when they were not on watch.

The fire burned just outside the cave but positioned so it was hard to see from down below. A man might walk right beneath their position and never know anyone was up there. Because of this, Captain Decker called it a good defensive position.

“But do we need to worry about that?” Alexis asked. “There is no evidence of ghouls, and we haven’t seen the bokarus since Iris.” She tried to shrug off the bad feelings they had all day.

“No telling what is out there,” Lockhart said. He looked up at the night sky and wondered. His men in black were practiced in dealing with alien threats. They were not designed to fight nightmares. “Lincoln and Alexis, first watch.”

“Wouldn’t one person be enough?” Lincoln wondered.

“I want two to watch and keep each other awake,” Lockhart responded. “Decker and I will take second watch. Mingus, would you mind third watch with your son?” Mingus did not mind. “Boston and Katie in the morning. Get some sleep.”

Avalon Pilot Part III: The Beginning of History

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Around 4500 BC on the Plains of Shinar.  Kairos 1-6:  The Twins 1, 2 and 3.

Recording…

“I must say it is kind of interesting being thirty again.”  Lockhart spoke after they entered the tunnel.  Lincoln looked back to see if the angel might be following them.  It did not, but the angel light illuminated the tunnel, and good thing, because it looked like a long way to the dim light at the other end.

“Twenty-nine.”  Lincoln spoke up.  “You may be thirty, but I decided I am only twenty-nine.  And my wife is now Boston’s age, just twenty-five.”

“That’s right.”  Alexis took Lincoln’s arm.  “Benjamin and I get to start all over again.”  They kissed and began to make loving noises.  The others did their best to ignore them until Mingus could not stand it.

“Shut-up.”  He turned and yelled at them, but his son, Roland was right there.

“Father, Alexis chose her mate and her human life, now you leave my sister alone.”

Mingus paused and looked at his son.  “A scolding from my own infant.”  He stopped walking so everyone stopped.  “Well, at least she got her youth back so she is not going to die any time soon.”

“I don’t know,” Doctor Procter spoke up absentmindedly and shook his amulet once more.  “If I can’t get this thing working there is no telling where we may end up.  I suppose we could all die on the road.”

“Cheery thought,” Lockhart quipped.

“But, say.  Mingus and Alexis just ran through time in this direction.  Right?  Surely you can help guide us back.”  Lincoln smiled to encourage them.

“Don’t look at me,” Alexis said.  “I spent most of the time with my mouth and eyes shut.”

“Some.  I might help some with the history, but really, we only arrived and skirted the edge of last time zone.  We moved as fast as we could.  For the most part, we traveled through the Heart of Time.  We did not come all this way through the time zones.  You can’t normally go back in the time zones unless you want to get younger…”  Mingus let his voice peter out before he stepped over to the doctor to examine the amulet.

“Sounds like a plan to me,” Lincoln said.  “We skirt the edges of the time zones as fast as we can, and hide.”

“No.”  Everyone but Mingus objected.  Doctor Procter explained first.

“I spent the last three hundred years studying the lives of the Kairos.  Now that we have the opportunity to walk through those lifetimes, one by one, and in order, I might add, I am not going to miss that opportunity.  Isn’t that right, Mingus?”

Mingus shook his head and sighed, and in that moment, everyone got a good look at the difference between Mingus, a full blood elf, and the Doctor who was half-human.  The contrast did not appear startling, but seemed obvious.  No plain human could have eyes as big, features as sharp or fingers as thin and long.

“If you say,” Mingus muttered as he took the amulet and shook it once for himself.

“What says the Navy?”  Lockhart turned to look at the two who were armed and bringing up the rear.

“I’m to follow orders,” Captain Decker frowned.

Lieutenant Harper smiled.  “I would not mind exploring a little while we have the chance.”

“Besides,” Roland spoke up, while Lockhart faced front again and encouraged everyone to resume walking.  “I have a feeling the Kairos would not mind if we rooted out some of the unsavory characters that wandered into the time zones without permission.”

“Oh, that would be very dangerous.”  Alexis said it before Lincoln could, and she grinned for her husband.

“All the same…”  Roland did not finish his sentence.  He fell back to walk beside Lockhart to underline his sentiments to the man.

“Hey.”  Boston came up.  She had been straggling near the back.

“Boston, dear.”  Lockhart backed away from the elf and slipped his arm around the young woman.  “What do you think?  Do we run as fast as we can or explore a bit and maybe confront some unsavories along the way?”

“Explore and help the Kairos clean out the time zones.  I thought that was obvious.”

“Well for the record,” Mingus said, as he turned and walked backwards.  “Though it may kill me to say it, I agree with that Lincoln fellow.”

“I haven’t offered an opinion,” Lincoln said.

“No, but I can read the mind of a frightened rabbit well enough.”

“Father!”  Alexis jumped and had some scolding in her voice.  “I vote we explore and help.”  She looked at Lockhart, and so did everyone else except Doctor Procter who was still playing with his amulet.

Lockhart nodded.  “Okay,” he said.  “But the number one priority is to get everyone home alive and in one piece, so when it is time to move on, we all move, no arguments.”

“You got that right,” Captain Decker mumbled.

Everyone seemed fine with that except Mingus who screwed up his face and asked, “And who decides when it is time to move on?”

“I do.”  Lockhart spoke without flinching.  The two stared at each other until Doctor Procter interrupted.

“Anyway,” he said, as if in the middle of a sentence.  “I would not worry about hunting unsavories.  I don’t imagine it will take long before they start hunting us.”

“Cheery thought.”  Lockhart repeated himself as Boston slipped out from beneath his arm.

“Lovely arm,” she said and squeezed the muscle as she let go.  Lockhart just gave her a hard stare in return until she amended her words.  “Dad.”  She thought about it and changed it.  “Grandpa.”  Then she said, “Gramps,” and had to cover the grin that came to her lips.  She felt rather glad Alexis interrupted.

“Look!  A baby.  Two babies.”  Alexis pointed toward the ceiling of the tunnel and everyone looked.  The ceiling and walls of the tunnel were opaque, not rock.  The angel light did not penetrate far into whatever they were walking through, but it lit things up enough to see the forms.  Sure enough, there were two babies.  They saw one kick, and the other kick back.

“What is this stuff?”  Boston asked the question.

“Amniotic fluid.”  Doctor Procter answered her like it was the most obvious answer in the world.  Fortunately, Mingus took up the explanation.

“The Kairos was designed to inhabit two bodies at once.  One male and one female.  It did not work out too well at first.  In fact, the first two times old Cronos tried to bring the Kairos to birth, he failed.”

“The god failed?”  Roland sounded shocked to hear that.  Mingus merely nodded.

“You might as well say the Kairos failed to be properly born,” Doctor Procter corrected his colleague from the history department.  “We debate this, regularly, but it is not well publicized.”

“But wait.”  Boston spoke from behind so everyone stopped and turned.  “What are these dark patches?  It looks like there are spots that no light can penetrate.”

“What?”  Doctor Procter and Mingus both slid up to the wall to examined the evidence.  This was something new.

“Two babies.”  Lockhart still looked up.  “One male and one female. But both the same person.”  It was a hard concept to grasp.

Alexis took that moment to whisper something in Lincoln’s ear to which Lincoln blurted the words, “Again?  We already have two children, and a grandchild.”

“But the dark patches?”  Boston did not get an answer.  “They appear to be moving around.”

“Demons, definitely.”  Doctor Procter concluded.  “That explains some of the early difficulties in the birthing.”

“Demons, perhaps,” Mingus did not sound convinced.  Lieutenant Harper reached out and Mingus reacted.  “Don’t touch!”  He shouted, and the Lieutenant caught her hand.  “Better to be safe.”

“Demons.”  Doctor Procter sounded certain, but to confirm the statement, he got closer than he should have been.  The dark patches quickly raced to his position to form a single mass of darkness and something reached out into the tunnel and touched the Doctor’s hand, or so Boston thought.  She was the only one at an angle and the nearness to see in the dim light.  But she could not be sure because at that same time there came a great flash of angel light.  Even those with their backs turned had to pause and blink, and then the light went out altogether.

“The tunnel closed up behind us,” Roland said, and with his elf eyes, he seemed to be the only one who could see clearly—him and his father, and perhaps Doctor Procter.  For the humans, it just looked dark behind them while the light from the other end of the tunnel looked far away and very dim.

“Keep moving.”  Lockhart said, and in only a few steps, he felt a tingling sensation.  They all felt it, like a small electrical charge.

“The time gate.”  Alexis explained.  “We have moved on to the Kairos’ next life.”

“The other failed life,” Mingus called it.

“The other practice life,” Doctor Procter countered, and as they walked, the light at the end of the tunnel grew stronger.

Boston had her eyes wide open in search of demons.  Roland had thought to take up a position near the rear with her as they walked two by two.  They both saw the motion when it came, and Boston grabbed Roland’s arm in an automatic response for fear of the demons.   Something moved inside the walls.  It moved first on their left, and then on their right, and it took a moment for Boston to figure it out.

“Hey.  This time the two babies are separated and to the sides.  Why is that?”

“Different mothers.”  Doctor Procter spoke first again, but like before, it came out cryptic and did not explain much.  Mingus had to explain, again.

“The first attempt failed in the birthing process, so in Cronos’ second attempt, he tried to separate the two babies.  They were born, but being separated turned out to be too much for the infants.  They didn’t live long.”

“At least they are not kicking each other,” Boston said, and she looked up at Roland.  He looked down at her and she added, “Oh,” softly, and let go of the elf’s arm, not that he was complaining.

“Why would being separated be too much for the babies?”  Lincoln took up the questions.

“I imagine one consciousness split between two brains is hard enough.”  Lockhart thought to answer.  “Add to that two different mothers and two different fathers, different smells, two different sights through two sets of eyes.  It is a wonder the Kairos did not go mad.”

“Split personality, certainly,” Alexis added her thought.

“Worst in history, daughter,” Mingus said.

“At least that is what the Kairos says,” Doctor Procter added as they came at last to the end of the tunnel.

“Wait.”  Lockhart made everyone pause while he stepped to the front to look out on the world.

Avalon Pilot part II-6: Before the Beginning

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Too far, Glen thought.  Alice, how did you make things work at the beginning?  How did you survive? he asked himself, and felt surprised that Alice was not there in his subconscious to answer.  He had to think, and quick.  He expended his air at last with the words “Air bubble.”  A bubble of air instantly formed around him.  He quickly said, “Big air bubble to encompass everyone, and normal light.” The air bubble grew until everyone was inside of it.  They were still floating weightless, but a quick scan around him told Glen that everyone would survive despite the hacking, gagging, and gasping for breath.

Think, Glen told himself.  Way back at the beginning of time he remembered Alice appeared in a place on a rock.  The old god, Cronos appeared, along with Angel—that is what he called him anyway, if Angel could be called a him.  With that thought, he said, rock and stared down beneath his feet, though everyone’s feet were certainly not pointed in that direction.  Still, the rock began to grow and it continued until the air bubble became a dome.  Then he said, “Solid and heavy with gravity like a mountaintop on Earth.”  Everyone fell.

Glen felt lucky.  He was the one who fell the farthest, then Roland, but the elf proved to be nimble enough to avoid being hurt, and Boston, though she was young enough to also go without injury.  Some of the military equipment in the backpacks bumped rather hard, but Glen did not worry about that.   He felt he twisted his ankle.  He tried the word, “Heal,” but it had a minimal effect.  Meanwhile, Lockhart held up the bleeding hand he used to catch himself.  Everyone watched in amazement as the bleeding stopped.  In only a few seconds, the wound healed itself.

“Because we are at the beginning of things?” Boston wondered out loud.

“The grace of our god.”  Roland had another suggestion, and looked at Glen.

“Some magical cure?” Lieutenant Harper asked.

Glen shook his head.  “He is still filled with those Gaian healing chits that healed his back and legs.  They may help you, Lockhart, but you best not depend on them.  I’ll say it again, leaning on them is a good way to get killed.”

“Understood.”  Lockhart responded shortly, since he already stood and reached out from the edge of the rock to touch the stuff of Primordial Chaos.

“Big dome of air.  Plenty of air.”  Glen said and waved his hands.  The swirling mass complied and soon they had no fear of running out of air.

“Doctor Procter?”  Roland knelt beside the old man.  Doctor Procter wore the amulet, but held it in his hands and shook it, like he could not see what he needed to see.

“Lincoln?”  Meanwhile, Boston knelt beside Lincoln because the man looked ready to cry.

“I’ll get our bearings in a minute,” Doctor Procter responded, as Roland looked over at Boston and Lincoln.

“No way she survived this, even with her magic.  I don’t see how.”  Lincoln let his tears flow.

“Confession.”  Glen spoke loud enough to get everyone’s attention.  “I was afraid something like this might happen.  We went back further than I planned.  It all happened so fast.  I could not control it.  Alice is out of touch.  It may take a long time to get home, as I feared.”

“What?”  Lockhart pulled away from the edge, and even Lincoln looked up.

Boston thought it through and lifted her voice in protest.  “But I can’t live 6500 years to get back to where I belong,”

Glen waved off her complaint.  “The time gates should still be there where I am at the center.  Doctor Procter’s amulet should work as well.  How I get home may be a bit more problematic.”  He mumbled most of that.

“Man!” Boston started again but stopped when she got interrupted by a great light at her back and a voice in her mind that said, simply, “Do not be afraid.”

Boston turned to see Lockhart, Glen and both soldiers on their knees, and she felt the need to join them, especially after Glen named their visitor.  “Angel.”

“Come. Kairos.  Stand.  You are required to resolve this.”

Glen got slowly to his feet while Angel did something to lessen his own light so the others felt less afraid and could look up.  Even so, none dared to look into Angel’s face.

“How can I resolve this?” Glen asked.

The answer came without hesitation.  “You must offer yourself in place of the woman.”

Glen stepped over to touch the sticky ooze.  “Will I die?”

“I cannot say.”

“Will Mingus return with the woman?”

“I cannot say.”

“Will I still be able to help my friends get home?”

“I cannot say.”

“What?”  Lincoln found the courage to speak.  Perhaps it was the prospect of getting his wife back after all that inspired him.  “You do not know, or you are not allowed to say?”

“I cannot say.”  Apparently, that was the only answer they were going to get.

Glen looked at the suffocating mass that surrounded them before he turned from the chaos at the edge of the rock to face them all.  He took the glowing golden ball out of his pouch and Boston saw that it was indeed an apple.  With a sharp knife that Glen also carried in his pouch, he cut three slices.  He handed the first to Lincoln.  “Take and eat,” he said.  Lincoln ate the slice and at least half or more of his age fell away from him.  He still seemed older than Boston, but not much older.  He ended up around thirty at the most.

“Take and eat.”  He handed a slice to Lockhart and with the same effect.  “The golden apple of youth,” he explained.  “You will age normally from this point, but I could not let a couple of old men face the time zones.  You would not live long enough to get home.”  He turned toward Boston.  “Sometimes you may have to run,” he confessed with a grin.  “And to you I give this slice for Alexis.  I know you won’t eat it because you won’t want to become a baby.  Tell her to take and eat as soon as she arrives.  And now the one-minute review.”

“It would be best to stay out of whatever trouble you can and not kill if you can help it.  Remember, no matter how impossible it may seem, these are real people in real time and they are capable of fear and pain and they will respond to hate as well as love and kindness.  I understand there may be times when you will have to defend yourselves.  Do not hesitate.  Remember, if you die you will stay dead.”   Glen looked at Angel, but there was nothing there for him to hold on to.  He needed to do this himself.

“Two things.

One:  The only difference between you and the people is they are confined to their place in time whereas you can move from zone to zone through the gates and can jump forward anywhere from a few years to fifty or more years at a time.  Not counting the things you have with you, whatever other stuff you take from time zone to time zone, will age a corresponding number of years based on the number of years in your time jump.

Two:  Don’t forget that Ashtoreth wanted to control and change time.  Some of her creatures are still out there.”  He paused before he added, “Most dangers you can escape by simply going through the next time gate.  I suppose if they can follow you from time zone to time zone, you will know they are a real danger.”  He turned on the marines.

“Decker and Harper.  You need to consider Lockhart your General, and in his absence, Lincoln is your Colonel.  If I recall, he got designated a light Colonel at one point with the CIA.  Anyway, they know more about what is involved than you do, so don’t get cocky or I’ll see you stranded in some place unpleasant.  Is that clear?”

“Sir, yes sir.”  Lieutenant Harper responded.  Decker said nothing, but he nodded his agreement.

“Boston, you have the medical kit?”  Boston nodded.  “Let us hope you don’t have to use it.  Meanwhile, I have filled your packs with elf bread-crackers since you don’t have to carry extra clothes.  The fairy weave you wear can be shaped to your needs, and just so you know, Boston has vitamins in the med kit since you won’t always get a square meal.  Oh yeah.”  He clapped his hands twice.  “So now you will understand and be understood whatever the language.  It will all just sound like English to you.  Now I have to go.”  Trouble does come in threes, he thought, and with the word, “Three,” he ran and leapt into the ooze before he changed his mind and chickened out.

Alexis immediately came back, Mingus clinging to her sleeve.  And after Boston gave Alexis the apple slice, she became more nearly Boston’s age and flew into Lincoln’s arms.  They kissed for a long time.

Boston licked her fingers and became something closer to twenty-three.  Mingus fumed to see his daughter in the arms of that human, but with his son holding him back there was little he could do—not to mention the fact that the presence of the angel scared him beyond reason.  Lockhart, alone kept his head.

“But where do we go from here?” he asked.

“I can’t get a good reading this deep before history,” Doctor Procter admitted with a whack of his amulet.  “Your thoughts Mingus?”

Mingus said nothing, but the angel said one more thing.  It pointed opposite the direction Glen had jumped and a bit of the primordial goo cleared off to reveal a tunnel that led a long way to a distant light.  Angel spoke.

“This is your way home.”

************************

MONDAY

The Travelers move into the beginning of History in Part three of the Pilot Episode. Starting Monday. Until then, Happy Reading.

*

Golden Door Chapter 26 The Broken Heart, part 2 of 2

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The elf queen wrinkled up her face. “Children, you must try to understand,” she said. “The Heart of Time has been shattered and time itself is in danger of unraveling. The Kairos, your father is safe here for the present, in the second heavens, but with the heart missing pieces, he is very, very sick.”

“Our main concern is for your father, of course, but we are also concerned for your world under the first heavens.” Lord Oak, the fairy King looked down again at his hands.

“The Earth is in the most dreadful danger,” Deepdigger, the goblin king interrupted, speaking for the first time. His red eyes flashed gold as he spoke, like eyes on fire, filled with lava from the deep. Nothing could have grabbed the children’s attention quite like a goblin speaking of dreadful danger. Lord Noen went on to explain.

“You see, without time and history to keep life in order and on track, the Earth, the planets, the sun and the moon, and even the stars are in danger of curling up like a scroll and maybe disappearing altogether.”

“But what can we do about it?” Beth asked. Everyone heard the Thump!

The Golden Door appeared behind the children and elders, near the bookshelves at the far end. A moment of staring and silence followed before Deathwalker finished speaking.

 “In any case,” he said. “This much we have been able to discover. The shattered pieces of the heart have flown throughout time to the many, future reflections of the Kairos, the Traveler in time. And this golden door, though not of our making, is certainly able to travel through time. We believe it is the same door that once brought Lady Alice from the far future, back to the beginning of history when the Heart of Time was first made.” He sat down.

“Not of your making?” Mama looked up as if this was news.

“A power far greater than ours is behind the golden door,” Lord Oak said, quietly, and said no more about it. He cleared his throat and Stongheart reached over to nudge him and nod. It was time.

“Please,” Lord Oak began, and took a quick sip of water. “What we are asking is if you children might be willing to make the journey through time, to find the Kairos, wherever you may find him or her, in order to retrieve the pieces so the Heart of Time can be restored.”

“So your father can be made well again,” Lady Lisel added.

“So the earth can be saved,” Stongheart whispered.

The children looked at each other, and then at their mother who sat quietly on the dais with her head lowered. She was not going to influence them. She knew there would be risks and dangers, and sometimes the dangers would be very great, indeed. But she did not want to think of that. She only thought that she was glad she did not start crying.

“But why us?” Once again, James, in his almost inaudible voice, threw the important question into the silence.

Lord Oak did not hesitate to answer this time. He spoke as if this question had been anticipated. “Because, for all our magic, our wisdom, our power, we are like any other people. We are trapped in the days in which we live. We are born, we grow old, and yes, even we come to the end of days.”

“Even the elders behind you will not be able to come with you this time,” Lord Noen added, with a look at Mrs. Copperpot, his grandmother.

“I’ll starve,” James said, with a smile and a glance back at the same Mrs. Copperpot, and thoughts about the old dwarf’s good cooking. She returned his smile but said nothing. Besides, as usual, James’ small voice got swallowed up by David’s shout, which was perhaps David’s normal voice.

“You won’t be coming?”

Inaros leaned forward from his wheelchair and patted David on the shoulder. “I’ll be with you in spirit, boy. In spirit.”

Mrs. Aster, sitting in her big size rather than her natural small fairy size, also leaned forward to pat Beth on the shoulder. “Besides,” she said. “We have already given you all the help we can. You carry all the magic and abilities of the fairy world, as Chris carries the strengths of the dark elves, David the light elves, and James the dwarfs and all the in between spirits of the earth. At this point, us older folks would just be a burden to you.”

Beth held Mrs. Aster’s hand on her shoulder and looked back with a look that said she cared deeply for the old fairy and being a burden would not matter.

“And your mother.” Lady Ivy added and reached in front of her husband toward the empty place and Mama’s hand in a sign of reassurance. “For all of her love, she is only an ordinary, mortal woman,” and she whispered, “I mean no disrespect.”

“You children, alone, carry the blood of the Kairos, the Watcher over history, the Traveler in time in your veins,” Lord Oak said. “You, alone, can travel through time to find the pieces and restore the Heart.”

“You are the only ones who can do it,” Strongheart said softly, and nodded to himself.

A silence even deeper than before fell on the room while once again the children looked from one to the other. Beth finally nodded and Chris spoke.

“When do we start?” Chris asked, and a great sigh went up all around. Most had been holding their breath. Mama began to weep, softly, but this time it was out of fear for her children. All the same, Davey spoke up loud and clear.

“I want my dad to get well and come home,” he said.

“Thank you.” Strongheart spoke for everyone in the room, and with a glance down at Mama, he added, “You may begin when you are ready.”

Lord Oak stood, and others followed until everyone stood apart from Mama and the children. The fairy king clutched a gold and silver goblet firmly in his hand and he raised it with a word. “To the children,” he said.

“To the children,” the dais responded.

The children stood. The golden door slowly opened to reveal a light so bright, even fairy eyes could not penetrate. James started it by hugging Mrs. Copperpot and saying, “Thank you.” David leaned down to the wheelchair and hugged Inaros.

“I’ll be here when you get back,” Inaros whispered in David’s ear.

Chris hugged Deathwalker, and the goblin returned the hug briefly. He looked a bit surprised, and mumbled, “Yes, well… We don’t go for much of that sort of thing in the underworld.”

Beth hugged Mrs. Aster and let out one tear before she let go and looked to her mother. They all looked, but Mama kept her moist eyes glued to the table. She would not say anything, or even show a facial expression that might cause her children to second guess their decision.

“Come on,” Beth said, and the nineteen-year-old led her soon to be sixteen-year-old brother Chris, and her brothers David, just twelve, and James, just three months into his ninth year into the light. The light did not blind them because it was meant for them. And when they vanished behind that brightness, and the golden door closed on the outside world, they went to their knees, trembling.

Angel stood there, but his first words brought them comfort. “Do not be afraid.” Angel toned down the light and his awesome nature so the four could breathe as Angel spoke. “Welcome. We have a long way to go.”

End

************************

MONDAY

Now you know how the Avalon Series really began. It started with four children and a broken heart. Of course, once the heart is repaired it must be tested, but that is a different story. Look for Avalon, Season One Travelers (The Pilot Episode included) at your favorite e-retailer. The series is nine seasons (nine books) altogether worth buying and reading. If you are still uncertain on just who this Kairos person is, you might start with Avalon, the Prequel Invasion of Memories, where the Kairos is forced to remember himself as the Traveler in time, the Watcher over history because there are three Vordan battleships on the moon preparing to invade. A book to buy and keep. You might want to refer to it now and then. Enjoy.

*

Golden Door Chapter 24 Ashtoreth

M G Kizzia Leave a comment

Beth found herself behind a tree in the rain. The fairies had vanished. She stood alone, and the dragon crawled toward her, spewing fire along the way. Beth felt like screaming. She looked at the river, but it looked like only a stream. Despite the rain, it appeared to be drying up. Beth felt the scream building up in her belly. Beth panicked and took to the sky.

The dragon stretched its wings and followed. Beth flew as fast as she could, but she knew it would not be fast enough. She turned out of desperation. The dragon breathed, and the fire almost reached her. Beth thought of the little something extra gift given to her by Nimbus. She raised her hands, and her little bit of lightning shot out and struck the dragon in the nose. She knew it would not damage the dragon, but it did cause the dragon to turn down. It flew beneath her.

Beth knew the dragon would circle around and be right on her again. She also knew she did not have the strength to do that more than maybe once or twice more. To be sure, she did not know what to do, and her panic neared incapacitating proportions. Then she began to fall. Suddenly, she could no longer fly, and the ground looked very far away. At last, she screamed, but as she took a breath, she heard a voice.

~~~*~~~

Chris stood alone at the front gate. He could not remember rightly, but he could not imagine the others running off with the dogs. As he thought of the dogs, the three-headed dog came out of the shadows. It barked at him, in stereo, and he backed up slowly, like one might back away from a rabid animal. The dog stretched the chain with which it had been tied to the gate. It leapt and leapt, snapping the chain, while Chris raised his hands and avoided saying, “Nice doggy.”

The chain broke.

Chris turned and ran as all three heads snapped at him. He vaguely remembered the gift of Crystal, the oread of the mountain. Just then, he did not care how many alarms he set off. Chris swerved in his run, the dog nipping at his rear. He thought as hard as he could and slipped right through the castle wall.

He heard the three-headed dog crash into the wall and hoped at least one head got knocked unconscious. He threw his hands to his knees to catch his breath as he heard the crash again and again. He heard digging along with the growling and howling of an animal determined to get in. Suddenly, one of the stone blocks in the wall fell out. Chris heard the growl and wondered how many times he could go through the walls before he tired out. Somehow, he imagined it was not as many times as Cerberus could break through the walls. As one of the dog heads poked through the wall, Chris set himself to run, when he heard a voice.

~~~*~~~

James saw the wolves run off. Everyone got carried away from the basilisk at the postern gate. James figured that, like the bear, they did not realize he had gotten down from his wolf.

James ran into the forest. He heard the basilisk follow and saw that great bulk moving out of the corner of his eye. He ran from tree to tree, telling himself not to look in the eyes. He feared he would soon catch up with the rest of the snakes, if not the spiders, or if the bats did not swoop down on him from overhead.

He heard the crunching of leaves and bushes, but the basilisk did not appear to be in a big hurry. It felt like a nightmare, and the basilisk appeared to want him frightened to death before it ate him. James felt the fear intended to freeze him in panic, but his feet did not give him that choice. He kept moving and thought of the gift of the dryad. He figured the serpent would smell him out easily enough, and the glamour would not hide him. But then, he remembered that movie, and he surrendered.

James stopped running. He took on the glamour of a phoenix. Sadly, it was only a glamour and not real. He could not fly up and peck out the basilisk eyes. He got surprised when the basilisk stopped and appeared to hesitate. James figured he was dead, but then he heard a voice.

~~~*~~~

David felt the tentacle of the giant squid wrap around his middle. He screamed and hit the tentacle. He kicked and did everything in his power to break free. The naiad made it so he could breathe underwater. He knew he would not drown; but now the squid began to tighten its grip. David felt the air being squeezed out of him. When he saw the clacking maw of the creature, he felt absolute panic wash over him, but then something penetrated his mind and heart. It felt like something he rarely felt. It caused an interesting word to come out of his mouth.

“No.” Then he shouted what filled his heart. “Angel said, do not be afraid.”

David found himself standing again in the tower, facing the Heart of Time, breathing heavily, but safe from the monster. James, Chris, and Beth, all repeated, “Angel said, do not be afraid.” They all returned to the tower room if they ever left. Ashtoreth looked very surprised, angry, and unhappy.

They all heard the Thump! by the door. They all looked, and Ashtoreth’s eyes went wide with fear of her own. The Golden Door arrived, and the elders could move again. They stepped up beside the door as the door opened to reveal the purest light, a light impossible to look into, not from its brightness, but from its purity and holiness.

“No,” Ashtoreth shouted, as everyone heard the thunder. A knight covered in plate armor and riding a perfect white horse rode out of the door. Ashtoreth screamed. She grabbed the Heart of Time, pulled it from the three-pronged stand, and smashed it on the floor. She began to run, but since she had nowhere to go, the knight’s lance quickly touched her, and Ashtoreth and the knight vanished in a brilliant flash of light.

For one brief second, everyone stared at the crystal, shattered all over the floor.

“Get the pieces…” everyone shouted at the same time. The children scrambled and the elders rushed forward to grab piece after piece of the broken crystal. No one said, “God help us. History is going to end. Maybe the whole universe is going to end…” But they all thought similar things.

Beth gasped, as a piece she reached for vanished in front of her eyes. They all gathered as much of the crystal as they could, but then stood for a second, arms full of shards of the shattered heart, unsure what they could do with it. They looked at each other with blank stares, hoping someone could think of something.

Angel stepped out from the Golden Door. Angel rose both hands, like a moment of praise, and all the pieces everyone gathered vacated their arms and lifted into the air, up over their heads. Even the little bits and slivers that still covered the floor rose and joined the mass of pieces. The pieces of the heart began to spin, and the light covered it all. It stopped spinning all at once, and they saw the light of the heart throb once again, as the Heart of Time settled gently back into the three-pronged stand.

“It is missing some,” Inaros said, and they all saw the missing chunk of time. The Heart of Time throbbed like before, but the light did not appear as bright as it had been.

“But where is the rest of it?” Beth asked, and every eye turned to look at Angel, who stood patiently.

“One, two, and three times, and I will see you again,” Angel said. “This day is not over. The future can be restored.” Angel appeared to smile directly at all four children at the same time before he stepped into the light of the Golden Door, and the door closed and vanished.

Father appeared where the door had been, and while everyone smiled to see him, and Davey let out a little shout, he could only see the missing chunk of the heart. He fell to his knees as in prayer and began to weep. The people, old and young, went to him. They knelt with him, hugged him, and wept with him.

“The future,” he breathed. “Time is in jeopardy…” Their father faded and disappeared from their arms. The children tried to hold on, but it became like he was never really there.

Golden Door Chapter 7 Explanations, part 2 of 2

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With that, the picture began to pull back, and they saw that Alice and Cronos and the door were all on a very small island, indeed. Outside of the bare rock and dirt on which they stood the rest of that place looked like little more than a swirl of colors. Even the sky above their head appeared as a swirl.

“Primordial soup.” Inaros spoke almost as softly as James.

“That’s the way of the second heavens in many places,” Deathwalker explained. “And it may be the way for this place again if we don’t do something about it.”

“But that is not what we found out there,” Chris said.

“But that is because the Lady Alice is holding things together for the present, but with her sick and all, there is no telling how long she may be able to keep it together.” Mrs. Aster sounded very concerned.

“That is Avalon?” Beth asked, but the picture began to change.

“All there was at the beginning of time,” Deathwalker nodded.

“I always preferred the name Shamballa.” Inaros spoke up. “My grandfather brought the family from that region of the world and into the Roman Empire around the time of the first Caesar, Augustus, if I remember. Of course, that was before my time.”

“Hey!” Inaros’ recollection got interrupted by several voices of protest. Mrs. Copperpot reached out with her cooking spoon and tapped the wall, so the picture froze in place. They saw a woman with stringy, light brown hair who stood beside an old stone wall. She wore something like a Roman style toga, but her back was turned so they could not see her face.

“The children got to be prepared before they see more,” she said.

Deathwalker and Mrs. Aster exchanged a glance, but it was Deathwalker who spoke. “You will see the demons,” he said flatly. “Poor Lydia. Her mother suffered from demon oppression, but her mother got set free, by—by the one who was and is…” His voice trailed off.

“Jesus?” Chris asked.

The goblin squinted as if struck by a blow but nodded. “Lydia went to the crucifixion, but then her mother got killed on the road to the coast and the girl got stolen and carried off to slave in a brothel. She escaped. She married a fine Roman, a centurion. She had some adventures, but one day, they found her and dragged her back to the brothel. Many demons came into her in that place, but with her knowledge of the future, she became a prophetess and made money for her owners.”

Mrs. Aster took up the story. “But you understand that while Lydia’s body got saved from the degradation of the brothel, her spirit fell into eternal danger.”

“The spirit of the Kairos. The whole future of the human race stood in danger,” Inaros added.

“If it weren’t for the apostle.” Mister Deathwalker shook his head and the picture started again. The woman turned around. Beth let out a shriek, Chris gasped, James closed his eyes for a second, and David looked away altogether.

Lydia’s hair writhed without reason, her eyes looked blood red apart from the great black rings around them, like she had two black eyes. She had a cut on one cheek, and several cuts on her forearms where she had clearly tried to hurt herself. A bit of drool came from her mouth on a face that appeared so distorted it hardly looked human. Most of all, she showed hatred, fear, pure evil in those eyes and in that expression, which looked willing to destroy the whole world if it could only figure out how. Then she started to yell, and the voice gave chills down the spine as nothing else can.

“Listen to these men! They are telling you the way to salvation! Listen to them!” The picture got paused again by the cooking spoon.

“Demons are stupid,” Inaros said, and Mrs. Copperpot nodded but spoke differently.

“But do not be fooled to think the one in the castle is stupid,” and she started the picture again.

They heard the apostle speak in the name of Jesus and command the demons come out of her.

“No!” Lydia was not willing. “No!” The scene changed, suddenly. Lydia fell on the grass in the meadow that stood before the castle, but the voice came, relentless.

“Come out of her!”

It carried all the way into the second heavens. It reverberated from the rocks like a storm and came across the sea like a tidal wave. It shook the earth and the walls of the castle on the hill shook until it became difficult to see how the walls stayed up. Lydia tore her clothes, and things came out of her. They were identified by the little black dots, though at first, they came so thick together they looked like a pall of smoke. The picture paused again. Mrs. Aster did it this time with her wand. She circled one of the dots which appeared gray in color.

“Ashtoreth,” she announced, and the picture faded. “And she hid while the Knights of the Lance rooted out all the demons and drove them from Avalon and the Isles,” she finished the story.

“Actually.” Inaros put up his finger like he was testing the wind. “The isle of Avalon, the one by name, King Arthur’s Avalon which is the isle of the apples, is over that way.” He pointed.

“Knight?” Beth asked, as she remembered seeing one not many hours ago.

“Knights of the Lance?” Chris asked. He ignored the old man. Mrs. Aster nodded and the picture changed again.

They looked through a door in a darkened room and were hardly aware of the people in that room because of the vision through that door. It did not look like the golden door, but it was a door between the earth and Avalon. They could see the castle in the background beyond the green field. It looked like late afternoon, and an honest-to-goodness knight covered head to toe in brilliant, shining armor rode across the grass on a tremendous horse in full charge. The lance he carried, no toy for sport or jousting, was a real, wicked looking weapon intended to do great damage to an enemy. Chris understood in that moment why the knights of old sometimes got referred to as medieval tanks. This knight chased after one of those same creatures that had chased the children earlier that evening. He caught it by the door. The lance pinned the creature to the far earthly wall, while a very fairy-like fairy, with bumblebee wings, and a young woman with very light blond hair and light brown eyes and freckles, screamed. None of the children blamed them for screaming, and then the picture went away altogether until nothing remained but big, empty white wall.

“Hey!” Deathwalker objected. “The story of Greta is one of my favorites.”

“Greta?” David asked.

“The Kairos,” three people answered.

“My father,” Beth said softly, trying to grasp the image of her father living over and over and sometimes as a woman.

James yawned. Inaros leaned his head on his walking stick and nearly slipped as he almost fell asleep.  David wondered how anyone could sleep after what they just saw. He knew it had gotten well past time for bed. They knew of nothing they could do until morning, and the overhead light had dimmed a great deal, enough to show that there was a ceiling up there after all.

“But who is this Angel?” James heard Beth ask, and he wanted to hear. He thought that might help him get the picture of Lydia out of his mind.

“She is one of the first and greatest of all of the spiritual creatures,” the fairy answered.

“He,” Inaros objected.

“It,” Deathwalker said, and added, “Now go to bed.”

“No wings,” James whispered, and Mrs. Copperpot hushed him, pulled up a chair, sat down beside his bed, and brushed back his hair as he curled up under the covers.

“Come on, boy. You go to bed, and I’ll stand guard,” Inaros intoned. David crawled into bed, but he did not feel too certain about the arrangement. Sure enough, the minute Inaros sat in his chair he started to snore, and David found himself staring at the ceiling and trying not to remember Lydia’s face. Then he remembered that Angel said do not be afraid, and with that thought held firmly in his heart, he slept, despite all the snoring around him.

Golden Door Chapter 7 Explanations, part 1 of 2

M G Kizzia Leave a comment

Mrs. Aster reached out to hold Beth’s hand which rested on the table while Mrs. Copperpot settled into the last seat, the one next to her good eater, James, and Inaros fell silent readily enough. He would let the woman explain.

“And who is Angel?” Beth asked before the fairy could begin.

Mrs. Aster looked at the others before she spoke. “When Ashtoreth, the demon-goddess came out of hiding, and drew your father into this place, and captured the Lords of the Dias, and imprisoned your mother, we four did something that is not normal for our kind to do.”

“And it was a shameful hard thing for us, let me tell you,” Deathwalker added.

“We prayed, not to your father, the Kairos, as is our way, because he is in the most danger of all, but to the other.”

“To the one above,” Mrs. Copperpot said.

“To the Source,” Mrs. Aster closed her eyes.

“To God?” Chris said the word out loud and saw the four elders wince, but nod.

“We were brought into this place and told to wait for you,” Mrs. Aster went on.

“And it was the most scariest moment of my life, let me tell you,” Deathwalker said, and to hear a goblin, or whatever he was, talk about being scared really felt like something.

“And so, now, here we all are, but I am not sure what we can do about the situation,” Mrs. Aster finished.

“Out there?” David asked. He looked up at Inaros, who like James, kept trying not to doze off.

“But it is dangerous out there,” Chris said, in all honesty.

“Yes, son, it is,” Deathwalker said, knowingly. He raised a hand, filled with very sharp nails, and placed it gently on Chris’ shoulder. “There’s danger on every street corner. Washington, Bangkok, Paris. Why, a person can’t hardly make his way in the world without bumping into some evil…” He stopped. “Oh, you meant Avalon.”

“Well, yeah.” Beth sounded exasperated.

“Well, maybe we ought to start with some pictures, some background to get the gist of what we are up against,” he said.

“No,” Mrs. Copperpot said sternly as she stood. “Children got to get ready for bed first,” she insisted.

Clothes were laid out on the four beds, clothes the children did not notice before or that somehow just magically appeared. Mrs. Copperpot pulled a screen from the wall to separate Beth’s area from the boys, and Inaros showed them the bathroom, behind a door on the bedside. The door, almost invisible, fit perfectly into the white wall like the door to the kitchen on the table side.

“Everything off,” Mrs. Copperpot insisted.

“This is fairy weave,” Mrs. Aster explained to them all. You can grow it, shape it, and even color it just by thinking about it. You can harden it for shoes or leave it soft underneath against the skin. You can even separate it into several pieces or bring it back together into a nice dress if you like.”

“I’m not wearing a dress,” James said.

“Of course, you have to separate it to make shoes,” Inaros said, grumpily, like it had gotten past his bedtime.

“She meant me and the dress,” Beth told her little brother.

“Don’t be wearing shoes to bed. You’ll get the sheets all dirty,” Mrs. Copperpot said.

Eventually, all four children were ready, though Beth kept changing her nightgown from blue to green and back again, unable to decide, until Mrs. Aster turned it into a green background with big blue flowers and told her to leave it alone. Then they took their pillows and gathered themselves on the floor in front of the big blank wall at the back of the room, which was going to be their television, as Deathwalker explained.

Mrs. Aster changed back into her fairy size, with wings fluttering gently against the air to keep herself aloft. She said it felt much more comfortable than being big, and Beth said she did not mind. Mrs. Copperpot wanted to pick James up and hold him in her lap, but James decided he would rather not. David would not let poor Inaros sleep. He got excited and expected a good movie. Chris talked with Deathwalker who wanted to get things started; but he tried to answer Chris’ questions and got loud enough for everyone to hear while they waited.

“But how can my dad have lived other lifetimes?” he asked, having realized that the Kairos had to be something more than just a title passed down from person to person.

“Well, it would be more correct to say the Kairos has lived many lifetimes and at present he happens to be your dad. In other lifetimes, the Kairos lived as dad or mom, as it were, of other children.”

“But look. I remember where it said it is appointed once for a man to die and after that the judgment.” Chris insisted.

“Yes, it is, but there is the hurt of it, don’t you see? The Kairos gets all the pain and suffering of death, right up to the last breath, but before he can cross over to the other side he gets pulled into a new conception. He is never actually allowed to die.”

“But I thought reincarnation—”

“It isn’t reincarnation.” Deathwalker spoke with certainty. “It is deliberate and done by a power far greater than us little spirits have. Sometimes he calls the doers his friends, and sometimes he bitterly refers to himself or herself as an experiment in time and genetics, but all the same, he or she gets born again and starts from scratch again as a know-nothing baby.”

“But…”

“Sit down, son,” Deathwalker said, gently, and he reached up again with that clawed hand and rested it again on Chris’ shoulder. “There’s a couple of things to know yet, and no sense in getting worked up over what none of us can really know or understand.”

Chris nodded and sat as Mrs. Aster fluttered up to the wall, pulled a stick out of some unseen pocket, or something like a stick, and began to tap the wall here and there. Wherever she tapped, there came a swirl of color which spread out until it touched other swirls, and then the swirls began to form into shapes, out of focus at first, but they slowly came together.

“Like Tinkerbell.” David suggested.

“Wrong kind of wings,” James pointed out, and then they all grew quiet as the pictures on the wall took on a three-dimensional quality that no television or movie could match. It seemed like they were looking through a glass into another place, altogether.

Alice stood in that place. They all recognized her by her blonde hair, and when she turned around, by her light brown, almost golden sparkling eyes. They named her; and the golden door stood there too. The children imagined it had to be how Alice got into that place, wherever she was. It looked completely desolate, a bit rocky and full of bare dirt without the least sign of grass or anything growing and alive at all.

“This all happened ages and ages ago,” Deathwalker explained. “That spot where they are standing is at the very center of where the Castle of the Kairos now stands.”

“And who is the other one?” Beth asked, because a man that faced Alice had to be nine or ten feet tall.

“Cronos,” Deathwalker said, and they watched while the two held out their hands and something began to glow between them. In a very short time they saw a crystal of some sort, but with an internal glow as if something bright got trapped inside the crystal. After another short time, the crystal began to pulse with a regular steady beat, and then the making of that object seemed to be done.

“That is the Heart of Time,” Mrs. Aster said. “That is the point where human history began, and everything that has ever happened since then is recorded in the heart.”

“Everything?” David wondered, and the four little spirits all nodded.

“Trouble is, the heart is now in the hands of the demon,” Deathwalker said. “And there is no telling what she is doing with it.”

“Our fear is that she may attempt to break it,” Mrs. Aster said.

“And a real fear that is,” Mrs. Copperpot interjected. “Some say that human history will come to an end at that point. Some say that time itself will come to an end. Some say creation will be ended and the whole universe will roll up like a scroll. Who can say exactly?”

************************

MONDAY

After witnessing the making of the Heart of Time, and hearing the dire predictions, it is time to have some further explanations, like why they are there and what they hope to do about the trouble. Next time. Until then, Happy Reading

*

Golden Door Chapter 6 Angels & Visions, part 1 of 2

M G Kizzia Leave a comment

“Who are you?” Chris asked. The light dimmed a little and the children came back to their senses.

“Angel.” The presence spoke as he stepped out from the glare and the unbearable light fell into the background, ever present, but not intrusive. “That is what your father called me ages and ages ago.”

“You know my dad?” David asked, while Beth studied the creature. From the dress, the voice, the long, pure sparkling white hair, and the sparkling eyes of some indeterminate color, it seemed impossible to tell if Angel might be a man or a woman. Beth and the boys eventually referred to him as a man; but to be sure, that was not certain, any more than it was certain how old he might be. He might have been just twenty-something, but he seemed as ancient as time, and possibly older than time.

“I know your dad well.” Angel said, with a smile that looked very warm and very human in a way.

“You know everything.” James whispered. Angel did not acknowledge the comment.

“I knew the Kairos when he was a Scotsman who deserted the English lines to hold the hand of a young French girl named Joan,” Angel spoke. “I knew him when he was a boy, sitting in the dust, holding the camels, waiting for his brothers to return with news of what happened to Sodom. I knew him when he was the young grandson of Odin trying to run away from himself, when he was a priest preparing to face the Witch of Endor, when the Kairos was a woman. I knew her when she had to leave her cousin, Tutankaton, and run for her life. I knew her when she feared Tiamut and the Chaos that started swallowing the world; and again, when the demons came up and infested her village way back in the days of wood and stone, sinew and bone. And even earlier, I knew the Kairos when she was the lady Alice who has not yet been born. She stood not far from this very spot with that old spirit, Cronos, and between them they created the Heart of Time. With the Heart of Time, that thing you call history began. I knew your father when each of you came to be born, and how much he loves you with all of his heart.”

“Is my dad safe?” David had to interrupt. He just had to ask.

“For now,” Angel said. “But you will have to help him. Since that one has come to infest this place with wickedness, you will have to help him and your mother and the little ones who have had this place as a sanctuary for thousands of years. They will be depending on you.”

“Us?” David wondered.

“But the door can move,” Beth pointed out.

“Can’t we just go and get them? Can’t you just take us to them?” Chris thought much the same thing.

“Christopher,” Angel scolded, and that felt like a terrible, frightening moment; but then he spoke with such calm grace the moment passed quickly. “You know the Most-High does not work that way. You must walk by faith, and never lose hope, and always love.” Angel stepped forward, or glided forward, and placed his hands on Beth’s and Chris’ heads. Beth wanted to take a step back, but she did not dare.

“One little one to dance on the clouds. One for the dark, deep underground. There is help, but you need the eyes to see. Be a light to pierce the darkness,” he said, and shifted his position to put his hands on David’s and James’ heads. “One for the light with your feet on the ground, and one to find the narrow path between. You need the ears to hear, and the good sense to find your way.” He stepped back and smiled more deeply. “And no, James, I have no wings.” He looked ready to laugh, and the children found it was something they longed to hear, but it did not quite come. Angel spoke to them all. “The gifts now resident in your heart will not fail. Some, you will discover. Some, others will set free. One for each of you will be given and enhanced by others if they are willing. Then, when you find the ones you seek, simply say, “Angel said, do not be afraid.”  With that, Angel began to fade from sight, still smiling at each of them, personally, and all of them at the same time. No one said wait, or where are you going, they just returned the smile and no longer felt afraid. And then Angel vanished, and they were alone in the small room.

The light faded until it toned down to the intensity of a well-lit room. It glowed down from the ceiling, if indeed there was a ceiling above the glow. The children saw three stark empty walls, and a fourth wall which now held the familiar golden door. On one side of the room, four beds waited for the four of them. A table with eight chairs sat on the other side. But the wall opposite the door had nothing to cover it. It stood out, stark white, and bare. It stared back at them until an unseen door opened in the corner of that wall near the table, and a smallish head popped out.

“Is it gone?” the head asked.

The children, who could not really feel fear at that moment, were shocked all the same at this sudden intrusion of color against the pure white. In fact, the head looked a bit gray in color, and it sported two little horns and eye teeth in its lower jaw which honestly had to be called tusks.

“Tom and Jerry,” James said to himself. David caught the angel and devil suggestion, grinned and nodded.

“Professor Deathwalker, you’ll scare the tykes.” A full-grown woman’s voice got followed by a little fairy who fluttered out from behind the door. She looked about a foot tall and had butterfly-like wings which undulated like a stingray in water. “Welcome children.” The fairy bowed regally in mid-air, though she seemed a bit hard to see, exactly, since she hardly kept still even when she hovered, and she glowed a little as if powered by some internal light.

“Just making sure it was gone, and it is just Mister Deathwalker these days,” the head said.  Mister Deathwalker stepped into the room. The children saw a creature about four feet tall, but it had hairy feet like one might imagine hobbit feet, not cloven hooves, and they saw no tail. He came dressed in a simple black jerkin, and leggings, and the belt looked like well-worn leather. The buckle looked as gold as the door, and he sported a ring on his finger which had to have the biggest, gaudiest cut of green glass in it, because surely no one had an emerald that big.

“Move out of the way.” Another voice boomed out from behind the door, and Mister Deathwalker jumped quickly to the side.

“Mrs. Copperpot.” Mister Deathwalker identified the newcomer with a tip of his hat which the children had thought was his hair. It turned out the imp or goblin or whatever it was, looked utterly hairless apart from the hair on his feet and knuckles.

Mrs. Copperpot appeared to be a more normal dwarf if a real dwarf can be called normal. She stood three-and-a-half feet tall, and had some stubble on her chin, though not what might be called a beard, and she came dressed in a simple green dress with a red and white apron over her front. The thing the children noticed, however, was the fact that she carried the most enormous tray of food, and they realized they were all starving hungry.

“Well, come on,” she said. “It will only get cold if you hesitate.” The children did not hesitate, at least not Chris and James. Beth kept one eye open, and David had always been a bit of a finicky eater, but it all tasted very good, whatever they tried.

A Holiday Journey 7

M G Kizzia Leave a comment

Chris put a note on the door.  It had instructions directing Lilly to stay with Missus Minelli, if she should come back. He got Missus Minelli from next door to watch for Lilly.  Missus Minelli, an older widow, had children and grandchildren who lived some distance away. She did not get visited very often by her own family.  She loved Lilly, and watched her from time to time before these last few months, when Mary moved in.  Chris said nothing about Lilly being missing, though Missus Minelli might have guessed something was up.  Hers had been the very first door they knocked on when they started knocking on doors.  Still, Chris let the assumption stand that Lilly had gone out, perhaps with friends, though he did not say exactly where she might have gone.

“Lilly knows, if I am not home, to stay with you until I get home.”

“I remember,” Missus Minelli said.  “Lilly is such a nice, polite child.  But where should I tell her you are going?”

“Mary and I are going to church,” Chris said.  “And thank you for being there for me, and for Lilly.”

“Happy to do it,” Missus Minelli said.  Her old, craggy face wrinkled up in a big smile as she eyed Chris and Mary. “You two make a lovely couple.”

“Oh, we’re not…” Chris started to say something, but looked at Mary, who looked back at him with those big, puppy-dog eyes, wondering what he would say, and how he might feel about that idea.  Chris let his voice drop and said, “Thank you,” to Missus Minelli.  “We won’t be long.”

He walked beside Mary to the elevator.  She dropped her eyes to the floor.  He never stopped staring at her, even on the elevator; but she never looked up at him.  At last, they stepped outside, and Chris took Mary’s hand; and then he would not look at her. But Mary looked at him and smiled with all her might, and her heart danced the three blocks to the church.

 

Cue: Angels We Have Heard on High

A Holiday Journey, The London Symphony Orchestra

conducted by Don Jackson.  Ó℗CD Guy Music Inc., 2001

 

Chris, like so many his age, made it through church confirmation, and did not go much after that.  He was not sure what he believed, exactly, but he knew he believed in love, and so did God, apparently.  That seemed to be what the church believed in, even if most Christians did not live or act that way.   He believed in love, joy, peace, goodness, kindness, and all that God supposedly taught, even if most people did not live it or really believe it for themselves. He tried to do these things in his life, and he tried go to church since he and Lilly got left on their own.  He felt it was important for Lilly to hear and learn about God—about love, joy and peace.  She certainly would hot hear about such things on the street.

He found his Episcopal church closed and locked up tight.  He took Mary slowly down the street, and mumbled something about it being a week before Christmas, and Sunday no less, and the church had no business being closed and locked. They tried several other mainline churches in town before they got to the Catholic church at the end of the street. Chris never stopped holding Mary’s hand, and Mary never stopped smiling.  Chris did not smile at the thought of the churches being closed the Sunday before Christmas.  It irked him.

They found a small side door open at the Catholic church.  It let them into the sanctuary.  They found a very old priest there, setting up the nativity scene for next Sunday.  It would be Christmas Eve, with Christmas Day on the following Monday.  The priest noticed as they came in.  He waved, but kept to his task, while Mary genuflected briefly at the altar and Chris went to sit in a pew and cry. He wanted to cry out to God for help, but he did not know how.  He could only hope God could read what sat so heavily in his heart.

Mary wandered to an alcove where there appeared to be a statue of a saint.  It might have been Nicholas.  She was not sure, but in any case, her heart and prayers went out to the one above all the saints.  Her tears were large, but quiet.  Her words got whispered.

“He is broken.  How can I abandon him?  He is such a good and wonderful man.  I cannot leave him alone to suffer.”

“And you love him,” the words came to her, as a tall, thin blonde, with the lightest eyes, that sparkled with specks of gold, appeared before her.  It was the Christmas angel.  Mary trembled in the presence of the angel, and a holy fear gripped her heart.

“Merry.” The angel called her by her name.  “Do not be afraid.”

“Holy one,” Mary responded, and found herself opening-up, almost like her heart could not keep quiet.  “I do love him.  He is my heart,” she used the well-known fairy phrase.  “I know the little spirits are not supposed to form attachments with mortal humans, but I would become human in a heartbeat, give up all the glories of the second heavens, and never return to the land of Christmas, if only I could be with him for the rest of our days.”

“And Lilly”

“That was…I…” she could not say the angel was wrong.  Such words were unthinkable.  Clearly, the angel allowed Lilly to be taken quietly in the night. Lilly belonged with her mother, and generally, it was better if humans did not know about such things; but Mary had to express her feeling.  Neither would the angel accept anything less than the truth.  “He deserves to know what happened to her.”

“No one deserves,” the angel said.  “What humanity deserves for sin and rebellion is horrible beyond imagining.  Instead, what they got was a baby in a manger, who grew and died so they would not have to get what they deserved.”

Mary lowered her head.  She knew, and above all honored the story of how the source chose to deal with humanity on that most basic and deep rooted level.  The trouble was, as a non-human, her place was to be obedient to the source as represented in the form of the angel that stood before her.  She was to do her work in the world, and could only hope that she might be included in the miracle of grace.  Mary said no more.  She could not argue with such a statement.  All she could do was turn her head and look longingly at Chris, and maybe pray for him.

“Two brothers,” the angel spoke over her shoulder.  “The older brother, the most fortunate of men, both loved and was loved in return by a fairy for however brief a time.  Now, the younger brother has captured the heart of a young elf maiden.”

“Now and forever,” Mary said, and watched as the old priest finally stepped over to talk to Chris.

Ghosts 10

M G Kizzia Leave a comment

They found a second gate that let them out of the fenced area down closer to the actual scene of the accident.  Nathan felt reluctant to lead them past the angry young man again, though he added that man and the minister to his prayer list, even if that list started growing rather long.  He knew the angel only asked him to pray for the terrorist, the young suicide, and he was tempted not to worry about the others, but he also knew that Mya’s prayer list had gotten very long and that she prayed regularly, if not continually for them all.  He could only imagine her asking God to love and help others in a completely kindhearted, loving and selfless way, and he thought that perhaps that might be another lesson the grown-up world could learn from the young.

They saw the man as soon as they got through the gate.  He paced back and forth on the edge of the street.  Nathan had no trouble identifying the man as the big, burly fellow who moved up at the last to sit behind him.  “What is it, friend?” he asked without hesitation, feeling very gregarious with Mya so close beside him.

The man turned to face them and Mya gasped and buried her face in Nathan’s side.  The man was missing the side of his face, down to the bone, and including his eye.  His right hand was missing almost up to the elbow, and the stump looked like a bloody mess that appeared to be festering.  The man recognized them right away, too, though his vision of them seemed a little skewed through that one good eye.  “The old man and the little kid.  What are you, a hundred and something?  And Kid, you must be, what, four or five?”

“I’m eighteen.”  Mya picked an age, though she probably was not that old yet.  “And he isn’t a day over forty,” though he probably was.  She brushed Nathan’s hair again behind his ears and this time he did not mind at all.

The big, burly man stared at them for a moment and Nathan prepared to run and drag Mya after him if necessary.  He felt a bit surprised that the man did not respond to her teenaged flippancy with anger.  Instead he looked up and threw out his good hand.  “What is wrong with everybody?”  He shouted to the sky.  “So tell me this.  When is the ambulance going to get here?  I could die before they show up.”

Mya and Nathan looked at each other with the most curious expressions.  It was Mya who spoke.  “But we are already dead.”

The man frowned as far as they could tell from what lips were left.  “Don’t be stupid.  We can’t already be dead.”

A woman took that moment to come by on the sidewalk.  The burly man jumped out in front of her and began screaming.  He raised his arms, including his stump and yelled.  “Would you get me a fucking ambulance!”  Mya and Nathan were repulsed by the man’s anger, but not as shocked as they were by the woman’s response.  She screamed which made Mya burry her face again a bit deeper in Nathan’s arm to prevent her own scream.  And then the woman shrieked something about a ghost and she hurried off back the way she came.  It was the woman’s terror that Nathan and Mya felt most of all, and as strongly as they felt the cruelty in the woman with the puppy.  Nathan suddenly felt glad that they had not spent much time around many living people since the accident.  It reminded him, once again, that he and Mya had become very sensitive to the disposition of the souls of the living.

“Damn selfish bitch,” the burly man said.  “Can’t she see that I need help?”

“Why not?”  Mya looked up again, now that the feeling of fear had passed, and she genuinely seemed confused.  “I mean, we are already dead.  Why can’t we be dead?”

“Eh?”  They had the man’s attention again.

“You said we can’t possibly be dead.”  Nathan reminded the man.

“Because missy.”  He spoke to Mya.  “If we were dead we would no longer exist.”

“Not if there is a God,” Mya said forthrightly.

“Maybe the spirit can survive after death.”  Nathan tried to add his own thoughts but stopped when the burly man’s frown deepened and a little piece of lip fell to the ground.  This caused Mya to hide her eyes a third time.

“Don’t give me that sky-god crap and all that spiritual mumbo-jumbo.  That’s all just so much shit and you know it.”

“No.  I know the spirit can live after death.”  Nathan sounded completely certain about that, obviously, and his words reflected his certainty.

“If you believe that, you’re an idiot.”  The man walked to the back of a parked car.  “Look, I know what is real and what isn’t.  It’s like this car is real.”  He pounded on the hood, and though in fact he put his hand right through the hood, but there was no doubt he thought he pounded on it.  “Science tells me what is real, and that is good enough.  If you want to believe in some fairy tale, that’s your business, but I’ll say you are an idiot.”

“But maybe there are some things science doesn’t know,” Nathan suggested.

“I’m sure that is true.”  The burly man responded.  “But when they figure it out I am also sure it will be as solid and real as this car.”  He made to pound on it again and went through it again.

“But please.”  Mya could not stand listening to the pain in the man’s voice.  “We all died yesterday.  The accident was a whole day ago.”

“Yes.”  Nathan took up the cause.  “If you were bleeding for a whole day, you would be dead by now, except you are already dead.”

“What are you talking about?  Did that concussion rattle your brains?  That kid only blew up ten, not five minutes ago.”  He went to look at his watch, but that part of his arm was missing.

“But.”  Mya did not want to give up, but the burly man was not going to listen.

“Look.  I don’t want to hear about your God.  I don’t want anything to do with a god because there is no such thing.  I don’t want some freakin’ fairy tale hanging over my shoulder telling me what I can and cannot do.  I am my own man, the captain of my soul and master of my fate or whatever.  And even if there is a God, I don’t want anything to do with it.  A pox on your moronic God.  He should leave me alone forever and I’ll do just fine without him, and when I die, and when you die, I am sure we will all just blend back into the universe and cease to exist.”

Nathan felt concerned for the vehemence and seriousness of the man.  He thought it best if they did not tempt him any further, but Mya still did not give up.

“But.”  She tried again, but the man’s shout cut her off.

“Screw your God.  He can leave me alone, forever!” he said, and suddenly he began to sparkle like the old woman sparkled, except his sparkles were pitch black, of a kind that swallowed all of the light rather than giving light.  It started out in small spots, but as it spread, the spots began to join with others and became black blotches all over him.  The man screamed.  Nathan heard, “Not that. Not alone.”  Or Nathan thought he heard those words.  Mostly he just heard screams.  Mya had her face pressed into Nathan’s chest and she started crying her eyes out.  Nathan felt frightened half out of his mind, but he could not tear his eyes away to save his sanity.  Then it was over. The man had gone and only a black wisp like smoke remained.

Then Nathan heard a voice come from the smoke that frightened the other half of his mind.  “Would you like to join him?”  The voice asked.  “It will be very easy.  Curse God and die.”  Nathan nearly lost his wits completely on hearing that, but Mya dragged him to his knees by then and he wrenched his eyes from the black wisp to see her kneeling and watch her clasp her hands in the classic position of a child at prayer.  Her eyes were shut tight, too, and Nathan thought of that as a good idea.  Nathan squeezed his eyes shut and felt his mind and his heart go out to the God of gods.

“Please, please.”  That was all he could think at first.  “Let there be light.”  That came to him.  “The darkness can’t stand against the light.” And slowly he regained his wits.  “God, give that man another chance, just a little more time to see the light, and please send a better messenger than me.  Please, please God, please.  The man can’t hear me.  I tried.  I tried.”  After another moment he opened his eyes, and he saw that there was an actual light shining over his shoulder.  He knew, without looking, that it was the angel, and the wisp of darkness stood no chance at all.  When Mya opened her eyes, she saw the man sitting on the curb, gasping for air.  With that done, Mya took Nathan’s hand and quickly led him away.

“We have so many to pray for,” Mya remarked.  Nathan agreed and he lifted-up a prayer then and there for the suicide bomber.  He was told to pray for the man but thus far he had not actually prayed at all.  He had just said he would like he always did when he was alive.  Then he added a prayer for the angry young man, and one for the minister, and another one for the businessman and the hungry man from the hospital.  Then he started on his daughter and eventually worked his way through everyone he could think of.  He did not pay much attention to where he was going, but he trusted Mya implicitly to lead him carefully down the street.