Welcome
THE GHOSTS OF EARTH (2009 Paul Dore) is the first volume in the hexology that will constitute the Truthfarer series. The remaining five volumes will be published at regular intervals over the next two years.
The first book describes the beginnings of a universe: the origins of space and time, of consciousness itself. These cataclysmic events set in train the Truthfarers’ quest, and the account of their journey Homewards.
This history follows the adventures of two of these beings as they travel from the skies of an ancient planet to the realm of the gods, and then onwards to the freezing landscape of a new world, before finally encountering the subterranean realms of the Gaki. These creatures are a strange race indeed, inexorably driven by an insatiable hunger towards madness, to an insanity that holds within itself the key to the next stage of their path towards ultimate knowledge.
Welcome all, to the realms of the Truthfarers! We bid you rejoice - and perchance join - in their struggle to find that lost treasure of all sentient life; the Truth that Lies Within.
We hope you enjoy your journey.
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THE GHOSTS OF EARTH
PROLOGUE
No time or place. Nothing and then – fullness; a soft, even, pure and translucent glow, a constant whiteness, a limitless beauty in silver-cold light that invaded everything. It penetrated all, and filled the void with its near perfection. A minutia of the preternatural emptiness shivered across its surface and the unity was broken. And then eternity and infinity shattered and fragmented, and from that terrible whiteness uncountable fragments exploded into an infernal heat that swept outwards, dimensions swirling into being in its awful wake.
And so time and space were born, and once again the terrible cycle of life and death was set into motion. Blazing light and heat boiled maniacally, devouring all and spewing out the remainder in incandescent dust; and chaos was brought under the tyranny of dimension. The measured process ticked away, nanosecond by nanosecond, as the alpha accident exploded in wave upon wave, a primal fire raging through space.
Time passed, and passed on. Great gas clouds cooled and coalesced, forming particulates that collided and combined. Stars were born and died as the nebulae swirled and exploded, floating like great hulks upon an ocean of flame, their dead elemental forms basking in its luminosity. Throughout the newly born cosmos the embers lurched in a drunken dance, great arches of dust twisting and gyrating sinuously, breaking and then reforming in a mindless ballet of accidental death, purposeless and meaningless; space born upon space, with all racing from all into the blackness of eternal night.
The aeons pass and that dread fury has now slowed and dispersed. Great suns blaze across space, circling ponderously about each other, some to die quietly, others to implode and then explode, sending their debris soaring outwards in search of new homes. Thus the process of birth and death, expressing itself in unthinking and unfeeling matter, metres on, measuring moment by moment its senseless path.
Epochs upon epochs speed by. Suns are born and suns die, and around them the dust gathers and coils, gravity bound. Then, too, the planets make their entrance, exemplars of that most elegant of forms, the sphere. And they join the majestic chorus, ploughing their stately orbits, adding each one their measure to the cosmic dance. Some would fly far from their mother star, and her light and heat would barely dance upon their surface. Others would draw too close to their parent, and would fall back into that deadly embrace, to be swallowed whole by their progenitor. Element bound to element, born from the solar furnaces, matter endlessly seeking new expression; but all still dead - so dead.
But from that flaw, embedded in the matrix of primordial matter, a new expression lay in wait; an accident yet to be born - and the ages stream by. The skies were much darker now, for that vast, embryonic array of jewels, those burnished suns that had filled the great spaces, they had reeled away now, moving into the deeps, receding ever further from their kin. Some were solitary children, blazing their light out into the cold dark reaches until their nuclear fires were exhausted. Others cast their warmth upon attendant planets, bound like servants to their estate. On a very few of these captives an ancient play was about to be presented; that same dark flaw, the sole witness to this universe’s conception, was about to perform its latest role, its purpose finally to be fulfilled. Form played upon form, combinations and permutations endlessly experimenting; fault upon fault, with no discernible pattern but a random chaos, a madness spinning out anarchy - and all about lay cosmic death. But within this vast nexus of interplaying forces a surprise conceals its face. Yet still there was no spectator to this crucible, this forcing medium. No eye or ear, no physical sense or consciousness to prostrate itself in terrified worship before the insensate whirl. The mystery that was to be awaited its time and place, and the unfolding of its esoteric purpose. The primal flaw had struck at the heart of the universe, born within the first cosmic fires, the progeny of a force indestructible and perfect, though within it own nature fundamentally divided. This was the first paradox of the many, which would echo yet through the void. A perplexity and a puzzle so profound that the whole cosmos itself would in its deepest being unravel the solution; both the analysis and the synthesis, beautiful in its conception, but still a pregnant enigma ready to spill its seed, its creatures eager to vitalise the dead forms that surrounded it. It lay poised, a deadly precursor, creator of life and death, and holding all within its compass; this miasma incoherent, seductive, cardinal, immortal, but mortally incarnate. It flowed through time and space, immediate in its power, creating forms, yet in these insufficiencies seeking always its completion.
Finally, on a dead husk of rock, it emerged within matter, whilst the harsh light of a nearby star played upon that impervious surface; and thus it remained for millennia. Nothing happened; changeless; no transformation, immutable; and the universe ground on its dead way. This lifeless world turned mechanically about its axis, in mindless, echoing repetition. The nearby star beat its sterile surface with a raw, harsh radiation. Thousands upon thousands of years slipped by, the universe and the planet older but by a fraction in cosmic terms. And then: Awakening! Life! There was not a movement, no hint even of this subtle change; it was so nevertheless, but of a fragility that even the slightest shift in all those variables that had conspired to bring about this miracle would have extinguished its incipience forthwith; thus it clung to the very edge of existence.
And the universe continued on its course in an insensible and constant pursuit of its limits. Up until now all was an impotent play of light and darkness, of change and purposeless transformation, and the essence of futility; but here the imperceptible seed was about to bear fruit. Upon that tiny sphere of rock, which twirled endlessly within darkness into light and into darkness, time seemed frozen. This monotone, punctuated only by the burning light of the nearby sun, merely accentuated the sense of stasis. It could have been that this unique experiment, this limitless possibility, might never have occurred, but for the intervention of another transformational event. From far away, coursing through the depths of space, a rogue meteor struck the surface of this empty bauble, scoring out a vast chunk of rock, and dismissing the wounded splinter into the void, as it accelerated away irreversibly from its mother sun….
Millennia passed. The small asteroid hurtled ever onwards, ploughing through the emptiness and dust, bearing constantly its hidden load. Eventually it sank into the gravitational embrace of a minor sun, which lay in an isolated corner of a dark galaxy, and began its spiralling course downwards towards a fiery conclusion. As it arrowed towards the grave, the fragment passed across the orbit of a small planet that circled about this star, and was drawn into its more benevolent influence. Thus, as to a rescuing parent, it hastened like a wayward child into that adoptive embrace, and drew closer to its new haven. By this series of coincidences the orphan now found itself within reach of a new home. Throughout its extensive wanderings it had acquired a protective mantle of dust, seared onto its surface by the fires of numerous suns, and this further sealed by the multiple impacts of smaller meteorites. This shroud burned away fiercely as the wanderer reached into the atmosphere of the planet, until finally, unable to withstand the stresses, it exploded, showering the lands below with chunks of superheated rock.
Time beat onwards interminably. The aeons flowed past like the wavelets on a mountain torrent, time and tide in speeding flight. Volcanoes and fiery molten lava streams had once played upon the tormented surface of the planetoid, but now a gentler nature prevailed. The flaw lay basking upon its beneficent surface, a nestling awaiting whatever fate might bring, its insentient guardian necessarily unaware of the miracle that it bore, and quite oblivious to the implications for this world, or indeed the universe itself. But there remained yet another accident to present itself before this act of the play might conclude, and thus usher in the prelude to the next scene. There could be no witness to this event; none can say truly what passed on this lonely isle in space. However, the consequences of the final enactment are evident, and undeniable. In due course the flaw finally burst into full bloom. This small, grey ember, this insignificant, little smut, which lay upon the ground, slowly and almost imperceptibly changed colour. From the dull and insensible greyness that it presented to the light, a faint shine now appeared upon its surface, with the faintest tinge of iridescence, so subtle as to be quite unremarkable. It emanated a sombre glow, and a warmth quite unlike the blistering fury of the vast sun that floated above the planet’s surface; and a gentle, delicate frisson shook it, indicative of a new kind of heat - and a new form. This birthling speck seemed to quiver. An internal quake vibrated through its form as if it were rousing from a long slumber, a quiescence that had lasted for a near eternity. The budding tremor grew in strength. It was a motion engendered within itself, not born of the blind forces of gravity nor of the solar winds, nor even of the action and reaction of mass, but a new kind of movement; the movement of life. Suddenly the form seemed to explode within itself, producing a violent perturbation that ran throughout its entire frame; and a new wonder was brought forth from the gestation. It was a generative movement, the first of living matter, and the beginning of that which could renew itself, thus unconsciously ensuring its own immortality; for what had been one was now two. There they were, glistening and quiescent, two newborn forms laying easily, side by side. And time proceeded on its inexorable and irrevocable way. The anvil had been struck and its echoes were already beating through the void. Two became four, and four became eight, and with each generation, each accident, diversity was created.
The eras swept by. The sun now looked down on a world that was saturated with life, albeit primitive. Unicellular plant forms floated in the clear, warm seas that bathed the planet, their waters nurturing and supporting its many offspring. A few of these tiny organisms had clustered together as if for mutual support. Others floated here and there on the surface, drifting wherever the tepid currents took them. There existed such a nice balance, but also a deadly inertia. It is arguable whether what followed was the product of a natural tendency built into the cosmos, or maybe the cells themselves provoked the next phase; or then again, merely another accident. The organisms continued to replicate, multiplying continuously. They fed voraciously upon the copious waters and bright sunlight. The clumps of cells had now become vast mats that drifted over the oceans. As they propagated they bumped and collided, scraping cell against cell. Some lived, some died, and their corpses floated and decayed upon the swelling surface. Between these mats lay great open spaces of water upon which a few lone cells danced. But such was the fecundity of these organisms that eventually even these great gaps began to condense; finally the entire ocean surface was covered with one enormous layer of these germs. The clumps started to thicken. As tier weighed upon tier, and the upper levels grew upon each succeeding generation, those at the lowest levels were deprived of their life-giving light and died. Mutation continued upon mutation, and the struggle for survival increased as adaptation accelerated. The clusters became more integrated and specialised, seeking always to increase their chances for continued existence. Competition grew between the differentiating species, the death rates soaring as new equilibria were established and then abandoned, in the continuous and unrelenting process of evolution. On the surface nothing seemed to have changed; the great drifting mats floated as always, serene upon the oceans. But in the depths below the struggle had become ferocious and unforgiving. Some lone cells, which had long split away from the mats, now adopted more aggressive strategies, their competition spurred on by the increasingly desperate contest for the requirements of life. Their mode of adaptation was quite different from the collective and aggregated organic forms. The same process of division and specialisation proceeded within their evolutionary development, but produced radically different species. Since they were no longer able to rely solely on the motion of the ocean currents to bring food to them they had had to acquire the means to propel themselves forwards, and developed a sensory apparatus to guide them in their constant search for sustenance. They instinctively understood not only that they were in competition with the vast mats that dominated the surface, but also with each other. The battle for survival was now well and truly joined: aggressor against aggressor. New balances were established, and the dwindling food sources and constant evolution ensured that the great mats gradually shrunk in size. The antagonist organisms now fed not only on their passive brethren but also upon their more mobile brothers. The seas began to open up again. Through it all the sun glowed steadily down upon this cosmic experiment.
The newly born planet, though established in relative docility by comparison with its more juvenile years, was still vomiting up rock from its core. The process of plate formation thrust land ever upwards and new islands formed continuously, beading the wide seas. Periodically, one of the great sea mats would drift upon these new coastlines and lie stranded there, its massive form no longer cooled by the ocean currents. Soon it would die under the blistering heat of the new sun, its corpse decaying upon the sandbanks. The rich dust it produced as it decomposed would gradually be blown inland by the sea winds, to settle into dunes along the shoreline, thereby enriching the near sterile earth that lay there. Similarly, the violent gales and rains that frequently swept the planet's surface would break down the freshly exposed rocks thrust up from beneath the mantle, there to mix with the decaying mats, and thus produce a rich loam, the fertile basis for new life.
The millennia rolled forwards. Genetic variation begat the development of multi-cellular organisms, both more capable but also more vulnerable, rendered thus by their increasing differentiation and specialisation. Within the oceans drifted embryonic predators, evolving in ceaseless competition and, with greater food reserves, growing ever larger, as they propagated, struggled and died in the agonizing contest for life.
Thus did these matters unfold as the planet and its sun, indeed the whole system, sped through immeasurable space. And then, from out of its depths, came nemesis; a massive rock that had been hurtling towards this point in space and time for millions upon millions of years, to keep finally its fateful and violent appointment. Mass collided with mass, and the whole was reduced instantaneously to a frame of flaming debris, which exploded back into the night, each fragment bearing its own lone message into the void.
Again and again, across the empty reaches of space, in millions upon millions of galaxies, on worlds more numerous than the sands of a billion seashores, life struggled to gain a foothold in this all but sterile wasteland, relentlessly beaten back time and time again by vast unthinking and uncaring forces. And so the grim process unfolded, an endless procession of blind chance, an infinity of opposition ranked against these weak and fragile forms, all but helpless against those seemingly malevolent powers: the supernovae and meteorite strikes, and the planetary orbits so erratic as to deny the accident its due place in the cosmic play.
The uneven struggle continued over even more vast passages of time than can be conceived by consciousness; yet life seemed forever doomed to remain an undiscovered possibility. Finally, in a desolate star system on the edge of a newly born galaxy, random chance threw yet another cast that life might find its foothold. The experiment ran its course for the trillionth time; the gradual evolutionary process from simple to complex, the interplay of survival and adaptation producing an increasing diversity of animal and plant life, these in turn based on a fragile and mutual interdependence; species coming into existence then to pass away, only to be replaced by more successful forms. These again, by mutation and combination, moving from the lesser to the greater, a stumbling invention framed always within the steady beat of time.
The ages passed, and still the repeated catastrophe withheld its baleful influence. On a fine edge this life continued to flourish, gradually enforcing itself upon the planet, firmly establishing its base. But all that had come to be bore yet the hallmark of the relatively insensible. The higher primates that had now evolved here, it is true, exhibited many aspects of a fully sentient development; the ability to group together for mutual protection, the use of primitive skills, even a rudimentary language; but reflexive consciousness was absent. There was still no subject for any object.
Yet Nature bided her time, debating the catalyst that might provoke this movement. Some have insisted that it was simply another mutation and consciousness came into being in the same fashion that all other transformations had been stimulated. Others argued for divine intervention - though most now would dismiss this as a mere childish fancy. Howsoever, we must bear witness to the fact that despite the undefined cause the effect is indisputable, for there would be none otherwise to join this argument. Reflexive consciousness, at some time and in some place, was spawned; and strangely, not just here on this small world, but again and again throughout the cosmos. From these modest beginnings the universe and everything in it would be transformed to a degree so far unknown; the next phase had commenced. However, what had not been understood - until fairly recently that is - was this form of consciousness was but the lowest stage of a whole range of psychic evolutionary stages yet to arise. For time being at least, we must be satisfied with its present incarnation; the form of a hominid, a proto man. Those other hidden and esoteric depths would display themselves when time and nature declared them due. For now…
It is part of the vanity of any species to refer to itself as 'man', conveying as it does that sense of a final reference by which all other groups and forms are judged. So the idea ‘man’ in this new world resembles but little in what we would conceive with respect to our own condition. The creature in question possessed a body bordered by four limbs. Upon the superior aspect of the torso was seated the main receptacle for sensory data. The form, as a whole, was capable of motion. It was fully autonomous in terms of action, although quite capable of operating with its own kind in collective ventures such as hunting, defence, construction and so on. It possessed internal organs for the processing of food necessary to sustain its life force, together with ancillary organs that had evolved to maintain it in optimum condition in all but the most adverse of environmental circumstances. It was the product of uncounted generations of selection, and held easy sway over the other species that inhabited the planet. Its predisposition to act in accord with its fellows gave it a clear advantage over the many other equally well-adapted life forms; this, together with its superior intelligence, allowed it to maintain its dominance.
These hominids were omnivores, able to consume and digest both plant and animal life. By the lengthy and painful process of trial and error it had gradually acquired insight into what was ally, and what was not. Additionally it had acquired the capacity to pass down knowledge from generation to generation, in a folklore conveyed in many forms, so that these in turn were able to benefit greatly from the accumulated wisdom of their elders. This was the real source of man’s control over other species. Whereas other creatures too were able to transmit hard won expertise via instinctual learning, this could not equate with self-conscious intelligence, and the transference of more complex conceptualisations. In this manner the process of intellectual evolution was sent into overdrive, telescoping what would have taken millions of years through natural selection into a matter of centuries, even decades. Thus this species rapidly outstripped every other, and easily gained and maintained its ascendancy. Inevitably the weaker and less adaptive organisms fell by the wayside and, one by one, whole genera were wiped out. It seemed that the highly developed intellectual ability possessed by the hominid breed was matched only by an almost paradoxical heedlessness when it came to the welfare of its competitors. But for now the primary question of concern was the day-to-day business of survival; the luxury of contemplation was reserved for an as yet distant future. And so day followed day, with a routine clinging to the edges of existence.
SEPARATION
Now there lies a fiery desert here, stretching across vast landscapes to the waters of an inland sea; a waste extending many thousands of miles, with but few creatures clinging to life, and otherwise empty. This barren furnace finally ends at a sea that a noble warrior people long ago named The Sea at the Middle of the Earth. But then this land was filled with life, with rich pastures and great forests and valleys, and fast running streams that flowed eagerly across its face, feeding the earth and all its creatures. In the great blue sky contoured with vast plumed clouds, testimony to the teeming life below, there lived, amongst others, two majestic eagles. They were great golden beings. This was an age when that precious metal did not lie cold and dead in the earth, but was born on the wings of living creatures; their feathers shone resplendently in the brilliant sun. Indeed, their bodies glowed so brightly that they appeared as sons and daughters of that great burning orb itself, that rode the sky far above. Their names were Aquila and Aquilus, female and male. Their days were spent drifting in the air currents, floating in great circles as they rose and fell according to their wish, their penetrating gaze staring into the blue distance, measuring the great circle of the earth, or seeking out prey on the land far below. Their dominion was the air, and within that element their will was law. They saw the world as no others did; and from that an insight was born: the wisdom of eagles. Each night they would float down to their lair that balanced on a ledge, cleaved by ageless time into the side of a mountain, one of a range of granite cliffs that lay to the south of their land. And each night they would make love, their mating calls echoing through the mountains, and then passing into deep space, to greet the cold stars above. Then they would sleep, Aquila lying enfolded in the great golden wings of her lover, her nest within her nest. From these unions many offspring were born, to be raised by their father and mother until they too were ready to depart their home. Then they would take their place in the ether, and become masters and mistresses of that element; but always Aquila and Aquilus remained inseparable. In their journeys through the sky they would sometimes circle so far apart that they disappeared from each other’s sight; but their hearts were united and the bond was never broken.
One morning Aquilus awoke, and within him arose a great conceit. He wished to give his mate a token, a proof of his great love and adoration. He reflected on that which was most precious in this world. Of course he knew instantly, that there could be nothing greater than that which gave life and granted power to his wings, which warmed his feathers and fed the updraughts that lifted him high into the sky. It was the father and mother of being; it was the great golden sun from which he and his kin had descended. He would set upon this as his prey. He would bring it down to earth to lay at the feet of his beloved Aquila; then she would know his great passion. He moved with ease into the sky whilst Aquila still rested sleeping in the nest. He danced with the currents, higher and higher, his wing beat steady and powerful. He felt the heat of that distant quarry burn upon his face, but his eyes he kept averted, so bright was its light even for his fearsome sight. The air became colder and thinner and he beat his wings the more vigorously, fighting the forces that would draw him back to the earth. He knew that he would not, could not, give up, and so he struggled onwards, and rose above the world. He felt his blood pounding within his skull as he pushed through the atmosphere. So high had he gone that the sky had become dark, and the stars seemed brighter and harsher, floating just before him, dancing wildly, crazily. Finally, it was too much for his mortal frame, and his heart burst into a thousand pieces, his insensible body falling back towards the earth. But his eagle will carried him upwards, sparing not a thought for the dead shell that had now encased his soul. His spirit soared out into space for he could see clearly now the great fire, burning directly before him, drawing this child of the air to her bosom; with an unwavering gaze he sped towards his prey until, without hesitation, he flew into the heart of the sun.
Far below Aquila had awakened. She felt uneasy that her mate had left her without calling out, as was his custom. She rose from the nest and flew towards the east, and to the rising sun, in search of Aquilus. She flew all day, even until the shadows fell deeply from the mountaintops. She soared high and low, her fierce gaze piercing even those granite peaks. Her wings spread over the plains and forests, cutting the clouds and skimming the seas. All that day, and the next, and the next, she sought him out. These hollow and desperate passages mounted into months, and then years, until within her heart she grew to the knowledge that he had gone forever. Now she lay alone in the nest, with the biting loneliness in her heart settling into a cold despair, that in turn became resignation. The years passed and she lived the life of the eagle. No other mate did she take, no more children did she bear. Then, on one bright and clear morning, she rose into the sky and took flight towards the east and to her mother sun; and her heart finally broke. She fell to the earth to pass once more into the great cycle of life and death.
THE ASCENT
For a few moments he knew not where he lay. All around him there blazed a light that was almost impossible to contemplate, yet strangely its fierce heat left him untouched. Gradually this incandescence seemed to dissipate, and at last he could see his surroundings more clearly. He appeared to be lying on a bed of flower blossoms of the brightest hues; blood reds and creamy whites, butter yellows, both dark and light, with wine deep purples flowing through all. They provided the softest of beds, easing and cushioning his limbs, their perfume both overwhelming and invigorating. Far above his head arched a perfect azure sky, pure and brightly clear. He raised himself to lean upon his hands. For one strange moment he seemed to feel the sensation of wings unfolding upon his shoulder blades. But this absurdity disappeared as quickly as it had glanced into his mind. He gazed with fascination at the extraordinary landscape that encompassed him. As he narrowed his eyes, burdened as they were by the burning light that seemed to emanate from everything about him, he found that he could pick out the smallest details on objects, and no matter how far away they appeared to be. Gently sloping hills, shading green into green, flowed across the far plains into the distance, and these in turn were criss-crossed by wide flowing streams and rivers, their waters reflecting the glorious heavens, their surfaces shimmering mirrors framed by bright water lilies that bore flowers of indescribable beauty. Some of these colours were cognizable; but there were tones too that he had no way to describe, so wondrous were their hues. Great trees spread their massive limbs across the foreground, their outstretched boughs elegant in their reach. Many were of great age, and bore fruit that much resembled bright and sparkling jewels, pendant upon their frames. His senses bore to him all these undiminished, as if he were a newborn babe awakened for the first time. His sharp hearing could pick out a subtle breeze blowing gently over the land, a soft sussuration, a reassuring murmuring that lulled his mind into quiet tranquillity; his skin shivered, caressed by these same gentle, soft and fluttering swirls, sending a thrill of pleasure through his body. It was only then that he noticed not a single ache or pain in his entire frame. His thoughts dwelt idly on a recollection that seemed to be fading fast, a strange echoing of something from another time, that drifted away into the air. All the while the penetrating perfumes from the blossoms assailed his nostrils, stimulating him, lifting his thoughts higher and higher.
He stood up, and the movement was effortless. Again he had that vague notion that surely there should be some resistance, an inertia that would burden every movement. And yet his body rose effortlessly, as if born on a zephyr. He gazed about him at this foreign land. He had no idea of how he had come to be here, no intimation at all. He looked down at his body. He discovered that he was attired in a long, flowing robe of the purest gold, which drifted languorously about him, light as the finest of silks though it had the appearance of that beaten metal. It fell in swathes about him, shimmering and glowing, as if the sun rested within its fabric. He could not tell of what it was fashioned, either by touch or by sight, yet it was as light as the most gossamer wisp of cloud. It neither chafed nor irritated his skin, as it swept about him, shadowing his every move. His gaze fell for a moment upon his arms where they emerged from the long sleeves of the gown. The pale skin glowed with perfection, a satin surface corrupted by neither blemish nor scar. Yet it was not lifeless, for a network of fine, red veins and capillaries traversed the flesh indicating that here stood no cold and insensible statue.
He returned his attention to the landscape around him, and stood ensnared by its beauty. He could see small, brilliantly coloured birds darting through the air, for all the world like delicate jewels. Their feathers glowed with blues and scarlets, yellows and greens, a veritable rainbow of magical tones, and a display so clear and intense that they were as fiery darts cast by some mischievous divine into the skies, flashing like bright sapphires and rubies, or glowing garnets and emeralds. They moved so swiftly that they seemed like trails of flame in the air. He espied some of their number resting on the branches of a nearby tree, and his ears could pick out their calls, a sound so clear and melodic that tears came to his eyes, so enraptured was he by their song. He stood there in momentary time, captivated by the sights and sounds of this new world.
Doubtless he would have remained in this entranced state much longer if he had not noticed some figures approaching him across the plain from his left. At first he thought that they had advanced from a position quite close to where he presently stood. But then he recalled how his vision, so acute, could see far into the distance, and it was only their scale that alerted him to the fact that they were still some way off; his sense of this dimension remained utterly confused. However, he could already distinguish clearly their facial aspects and forms, and these revealed the approach of three men and one woman. Their countenances were exquisitely beautiful, with refined and symmetrical features, their pale skin like his, quite flawless. They moved effortlessly, seeming to glide over the intervening ground and, though they advanced with no great haste, they covered the distance in what seemed a matter of seconds. As they drew nearer he could more fully appreciate their excellence. All were dressed in the same manner as he, though their robes were of different colours. They were of distinguished proportion, tall but strong, the shape and length of their limbs in harmony with the whole. Their faces were of an androgynous form. Indeed, it was only possible to ascertain that one was female from the more curvaceous elements of her physique. All possessed a kind of beauty that surpassed the usual conventions of masculine and feminine. Their bone structure was elegant yet powerful, and there was an economy of strength that radiated from their features, coupled with a sensitivity and softness that were truly ethereal. Their eyes glowed with a warmth and intensity that were altogether unbearable to receive; it was at once luminous, yet overspilling with wisdom and compassion; a glance in itself was sufficient to lift one’s spirits to the very heights. They came to a halt directly before him, welcoming him with their presence, silent but clearly appraising him and his sudden appearance in their land. Suddenly his senses were assailed by the most delightful of odours, perfumes so exotic and complex that he fell back in confusion, momentarily overwhelmed by their powerful intoxication. To his surprise he seemed to sense a meaning in these luxuriant smells. The others remained quiet, still regarding him with that same calm curiosity. But they appeared a little taken aback by his reaction. He struggled to regain his composure despite what might almost be termed an olfactory assault. Within the barrage of perfumes he began to translate this strange new language into concepts with which he was more familiar. It would seem that within this extraordinary sensual communication the strangers were welcoming him; and as his skill grew the message had now become quite unmistakable. He could detect a slight hint of polite inquiry as to whence he came, and perhaps an interrogatory whiff requesting his name. Quite bewildered, he attempted to reply in a manner that was customary to his species; but as he moved his lips no sounds issued forth. He reassured himself with the recollection that he was confident that this was the usual mode of expression that he had employed in the past; but again the words simply would not come. The four looked on, a degree of inquisition in their manner, trying to fathom what he might be essaying. It was the woman who first seemed to grasp what was passing between them. She turned to her companions and an exchange of quite extraordinarily beautiful fragrances floated through the air between them. With his new-found skill, he could now catch the essence of her communication. It would seem that they had deduced that he must be newly arrived, and not at all familiar with the mode of language here. They laughed, a remarkable cascade of scents, quite different in tone from those employed in communicating their language; but the nuances, though subtle, were clear. They turned back to him, and quickly clarified his situation. They recalled for his benefit their own distant pasts and how they had come to reside in this realm - though it had been so long now that they had almost forgotten those times. It emerged that he had, in some fashion as yet unspecified, passed from his old life to this heavenly realm. He had been reborn a full-grown adult, for there was no infantile stage in this world. They again welcomed him. With great patience and consideration they told him all that they could about his new world, including their own unique mode of communication. It seemed that all that was required to answer was simply to think what he wanted to ‘say’; the scent glands contained in his skin would quite naturally exude the perfumes that would convey those concepts. He attempted this and, to his astonishment, perfectly and fluently expressed his wishes. The conversation from that point onwards was most enlightening. His companions indicated that time here proceeded in quite a different mode from other worlds. It could not exactly be described in the manner of the ‘passing’ of time, nor could it be said that he would reside here for eternity. These complex ideas were quite easily grasped in their perfumed form but our language unfortunately cannot adequately translate these intricacies. Whilst he resided in this place he would have need of neither food nor drink though he could consume both if he wished. There was an abundance of trees and plants supplying both fruits and berries to meet this unnecessary hunger, and these were of an unparalleled delight and succulence. The waters of the rivers and streams were of a most pure and sweet taste, easily sufficient to allay a thirst that needed no quenching. There were no wild creatures to fear, no predators against which he should be on guard. All his requirements would be supported in this delightful place. He could pass his time, so to speak, in any way that he chose; in conversation, or in contemplation upon his condition in this most beautiful of worlds. It had already struck him that his own conceptions possessed a most striking lucidity. Indeed, his thought processes were extremely clear and uncluttered, perfectly formed and framed, and passing serenely through his consciousness, the most abstract of considerations displaying a kind of pellucidity that was quite remarkable. His perspicacity seemed extraordinarily developed: it was sharp and clear, and totally devoid of its customary confusion or opacity. Any idea that he cared to focus his mind upon, any philosophical question that he raised within his consciousness, each was effortlessly and instantly penetrated and resolved. Seemingly, and in concord with this extraordinary precision of thought, his emotional states too were of a steady blissful tenor, which did not appear to diminish; a kind of warm excitement, and an exhilaration that neither disturbed nor tired him. His whole being was suffused with this equanimous sentiment, expressive of both love and compassion, these seeming to exude an influence in every direction and without discrimination, extending even to the blades of grass beneath his feet and to the jewelled pebbles that lay on the beds of the streams; and this beneficence was unstained by any kind of fear or anxiety.
The others had retired to some distance, to observe him disporting within his thoughts. Finally, and assured of his well being, they left him to his own reflections. He remained there, timelessly drinking in the sights and smells and sounds, ever delighting in his own company. The sky darkened faintly as evening fell. He scanned the skies carefully, seeking some source for this diminishing effulgence; but he could detect nothing. The heavens possessed an immanent radiance, which had now almost indiscernibly dimmed, leaving the bright landscape to settle into more sombre hues. Though he felt no need to rest he lay upon the blossom bed, and fell promptly into a profound slumber. He was assailed by dreams both soft and vivid, full of unfathomable and unspeakable significance, which enfolded him in a warmth of quite unimaginable depth.
Thus he sojourned in this delightful realm. There was no counting of the days or months or years, for there were none to measure. There was no oppressive ennui, no sense of languor or prolixity. Each boundless moment seemed as fresh and new as the next. Occasionally he would converse with his neighbours, who seemed to appear always and without fail, at the point when he felt most inclined towards company. Similarly, when he chose to visit them, they would dependably welcome him, as if they had been anticipating his arrival at that precise instant. All of this world’s inhabitants seemed to lead solitary lives, taking the same pleasure in their own company as he did in his. On a number of occasions the woman visited him. They talked in their own manner, roving through thoughts and sensations, emotions and perceptions, with a fluidity that was prodigious, and in a mode that transported him into the mysteries of their minds and deeper still, even beneath conscious thought, and into ideal realms more marvellous than the ones they customarily inhabited. However, there was one notable occasion where their communication took on a quite different form. At this interview the female indicated that she would take pleasure in communion. At first he could not interpret the sense of what she was trying to empathize .She explained lucidly the nature of that contact, and again asked if he would assent. He had at no point since his arrival felt the slightest stirrings of sexual interest in her; but he now realised this to be the gist of her intent; or at least as best he could translate it. He indicated his approval more from a sense of curiosity rather than any desire. She reached out towards him and very gently and softly placed her finger upon his brow. Suddenly he was assailed by sensations of a completely unfamiliar character. Where factual or emotional communications possessed quite distinct tones, these were of a wholly different order. There was conveyed, if one could describe it in words, an amalgam of bliss, ecstasy, rapture and tranquillity; all were perfectly combined to heighten the impact, both individually and collectively, of these qualities. The contact was brief but, for all that, powerful. He was left with a sense of enhanced completeness, an experience that in itself suggested, perfect though this world seemed, there was yet a deficiency; this was his first intimation that paradise existed at some distance from his present condition. He was to experience this contact only once during his abiding, but so powerful was this that it burned deeply into his consciousness.
And so the moment expanded, with experience upon experience, but not once descending into gross familiarity or boredom. It was as if on each awakening he was reborn afresh, to imbibe the sights and sounds, odours and tastes, and tactile impressions of this wondrous place. No hint of world-weariness or ennui interfered with his pleasure. Timelessness passed onwards, immeasurable and ungraspable. There was no apparent change or ageing in this precious place. He seemed as youthful and vigorous as when he first arrived. Similarly, there was no indication or sign of degeneration or decay in anything about him; death seemed to be a stranger here, unknown and alien.
One morning, and when he had wakened from his customary vivid slumbers, he noticed the slightest of aches in the region of his chest. So extraordinary was this that for a moment he experienced what might have been called anxiety - if it might be said that he could feel such an emotion. He was quite at a loss to comprehend the sensation. He pondered on this feeling within his physical sensibility, and the tremor that it had sent through his body. How could it be called? Or reconciled? What would the frame of reference be? On the next awakening the same thing occurred. He repeated the process, of searching for some basis for grasping and encapsulating the event. Now he was seized with a growing uneasiness. If anything it was this ‘anxiety’ more than the actual physical sensation that was causing him the greater problem; the strangeness of it, and his inability to fit this into his understanding of this world. It was as if something quite extraneous had intruded into this place: an element, both unnecessary and jarring. The physical sensation had gradually receded in significance, and he became entirely preoccupied with the more central problem, that of reconciliation. As the matter played upon his mind he found himself roaming about those delightful scenes, experiencing what can only be described as a slight annoyance with his surroundings. He began to find the unchanging landscape irksome, its unrelenting similitude an irritant. This displeasure and anxiety grew, and came to pervade his whole being. He shunned too the company of his friends. They would visit him from time to time, but now he would wave them away. Of course they withdrew immediately, recognising his need to be alone. If he but knew it they could easily have explained his condition, but their wisdom dictated that this was not a matter on which they might intervene.
The light had grown brighter, which signified what passed for morning in this world. He had awakened to discover that the ground beneath his body seemed unusually uncomfortable, hard and replete with intrusive edges. His sleep had been restless, and his dreams wild and disturbing, full of unknown portents that he could not distinguish. He struggled to his feet. As he looked downwards he noticed with some astonishment that the earth beneath him appeared to be growing transparent. He viewed this new phenomenon with some fascination, and not a little disquiet. The colours seemed to bleed away, as it were, leaving a clear window upon the ground into which he now peered with some curiosity. He could see far below some thick, puffy, white objects, which floated over a grey haze, this last appearing to recede even further underneath. It suddenly occurred to him that these could only be clouds, and that what emerged from under these was the surface of some distant land. With this knowledge his vision strengthened and clarified, and now he could clearly perceive this far removed terrain.
Finally, his telescoping gaze brought him in sight of the body of a man lying by a stream, its edges frozen in the grip of ice. Within him the recognition grew that this fellow was clinging to the very limits of life. And there stirred a faint memory, the vaguest recollection, that this being had played some part in his life, albeit in a very distant past. More than that there arose in him an overwhelming sense of pity, and with such force that he was almost cast to the ground. He could see clearly that this poor creature was dying from hunger, and sensed the man’s pain cutting deeply into his own body.
Time and space converged within him. He/she was a fawn, cast forth into the world by his/her mother; then a yearling, and finally a young adolescent, antlers growing and thickening. Now she/he was wandering through some thickets near a stream. At one and the same time he was far above, looking down through this window into a distant world, and then here too, standing by the stream, he/she gazed upon the fallen man lying nearby. A searing pain again shot through her, a terrible agony, and her consciousness grew dim, and she fell to her knees into the freezing waters, collapsing finally on to her side. And then there was darkness again …..
THE DESCENT
Cold penetrated through the sleep of the man as the first faint touches of dawn were caressing the sky. It was a most inhospitable season both without and within, a chill air enshrouding the cold emptiness of his belly. He struggled to wake through the freezing fog that enveloped his mind, only to rouse to that interminable pain that racked his body. As he lifted from his uneasy slumbers he could faintly recall the lingering echoes of a dream, the last in a series of strange visions had followed him all his life. He could dimly recall within this reverie he had been some kind of great bird, soaring through the air on powerful golden wings, searching for something; but he knew not what. He had flown for miles upon miles, scanning the blue-grey distances, a great desolation penetrating to his bones, and carrying a loss so deep that it manifested itself even in the physical, in an ache that reached to his very soul. Now he was awake and that hurt had been translated, and had become the hard ground upon which he lay. He had never spoken to anyone about these visions; they haunted him, and he endured them alone.
About him his fellows were stirring with groans and grunts. Not one was eager to face either the dreadful cold or the dangers of another dawn. One by one their bodies stirred into life. The cave in which they dwelt could shelter nearly one hundred of the tribe; but there was nothing like that number here now. The winter had been harsh and many of the old and the sicklier had perished. Even some of the healthy had succumbed to an unknown illness, coughing their life’s blood away, with both lack of food and warmth contributing to their untimely demise. Now they barely mustered twenty-five all told; and they were on the very brink of extinction. They needed able hunters, men and women who could track prey, and feed their ever-falling numbers; healthy males and females, too, to breed so that their children could defend the tribe and their lands in the future. Although the other natives in the region fared no better than they, enemy scouts had been sighted near the stream that flowed through their valley, and they knew that soon they would have to fight again. Matters became worse when food was so meagre; men were desperate, and prepared to risk all to seize what they could.
He moved, groaning slightly with the effort, and forced himself to get to his feet, his body sickened with cold and hunger. His eyes were sunken deep into their sockets, and the deprivation had etched itself into his face. There was that gnawing emptiness in his belly that never seemed to go away, a constant accompaniment for as long as he could remember. Fatigue flooded every limb, leaving them trembling and frail. He looked around at his friends. All had that same despondent and defeated air, anticipating another desperate day hunting for food that did not exist, the cold sucking their life away moment by moment. He dragged himself wearily to the cave entrance where he looked out into the valley below. The sky was crystal clear, and a sharp, icy wind floated high over the freezing lands as these disappeared into the horizon. This site had been chosen for its clear vantage over the land about it. No surprise assault could be made against them here. There were rock screes that lay above and below upon the slope. Any attempt to approach would be heralded by the noise of falling debris. It was fortunate indeed that they needed no guard, for none of them were in any condition to undertake such a task. He leaned against the rock wall, gasping with even this slight exertion, and peered back into the gloom of the cave. He could make out a few of the others in the half-light; they did not seem inclined to venture forth. Some of the babies, the few that had survived winter, were crying in the darkness, screaming out their hunger, with their mothers helpless to feed them. He and a few of the other younger men had hunted on the previous day. They had travelled many miles searching for game. They had sighted some deer but had been too weak to pursue their quarry, their hunger and exhaustion disabling them completely, even for this vital task. Wearily he again turned back to look down the valley. He could not allow himself to think any further for there was no other choice. The freezing grip of fear enveloped his heart, attacking both his body and his will. If he could not summon up the resolve then he would surely die, and the tribe would be weakened further by the loss of yet another hunter and warrior. He had to move, to try once again. But throughout his whole being echoed the certainty of failure and death; and his resolve was almost extinguished.
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