Journey Through the Mirrors (33 page)

“Has Sarvagita changed somehow?” Halima added.

“Does it have something to do with the Munch picture?” Britney said shyly.

Sebastian grinned; he looked at the three of them. “I see all of you have been busy.” He took a seat by the edge of the bed. Bukya comfortably positioned himself at his side. “Yes, the voice of the earth is being disrupted. And yes, the picture is very much tied to it. Sarvagita is more than just a metaphysical convenience; it is an empirical and scientific phenomenon in this physical world. Without it, life on earth would be very different, and most species would not thrive here. Sarvagita is a vibration and a resonance that is key to everything.”

“That’s what Uncle Lawrence told us, too,” Halima said.

“I’ve never heard the earth speak to me,” Britney said.

“The first question to consider,” Sebastian offered, “is if you would even understand the language of the earth if you heard it. Think of it this way. When we speak, the words that usher forth are simply vibrations
put in a particular sequence. When we are young, we are taught by our parents and teachers how to create and recognize these patterns. We call it language, and we use it to communicate our thoughts and desires to those around us. When you and Anita are at university and sitting in a crowded place, I would imagine there are people from all around the world speaking in a variety of languages. Even though your ear hears every conversation around you, your brain only focuses on what you understand—the language you can process. Perhaps even a voice of a particular frequency; I’m certain you would be able to pick out Anita’s voice from across a crowded room. And so it is with Sarvagita, the earth’s voice. Your ear has the capability of picking up all sound; it is your brain that has not been trained to process all of it.”

“And you can train yourself to do this?” Britney asked. “Hear the earth?”

“Not only hear the earth but speak to it, too,” Sebastian replied. “Have you not heard the story of the American Indian witch doctor who brought the rains upon the lands?” Britney nodded. “He had to do more than just say words. He was trained in the art of shadow talking, trained to communicate with nature, among other things.”

“What’s shadow talking?” Anita asked.

Sebastian smiled. “That is a subject for another day,” he said.

“So what does the earth say when it talks to you?” Halima asked.

“Have you ever wondered how animals know that an earthquake is imminent? Or how they know that a storm is approaching when the sky is sunny and clear? How do birds know which direction is south?”

“The earth is telling them,” Anita suggested.

“Yes. And the earth is also speaking to you. But its language is not English or French or German. The language of the earth is a very low-sounding vibration.”

Halima looked up at Lawrence. “The Schumann resonance,” she said.

Sebastian smiled. “I see that Lawrence has advanced your knowledge of Sarvagita very well. Science claims that the Schumann resonance is
constant, but that is not correct. The voice of the earth is changing at every moment. Each time a new creature is born, the resonance is modified. And anytime a creature passes away, the resonance is modified again. The tools and instruments of science are not yet capable of measuring such infinitesimal shifts. Only the most sensitive of beings are attuned to these alterations. Those masters, whom history speaks of and who have reached the zenith of their understanding, know when any creature is born and when a single leaf falls from the tree. They hear the change in the voice of the earth.”

“Like you,” Halima said.

“No,” Sebastian said humbly. “Those whose statues stand in the Arcis Chamber: Yeshua, Buddha, Germaine . . .”

“Don’t forget the Lady of Light,” Halima added.

“Yes, her, too. All of them are able to hear and understand the language of Sarvagita. But it is important to remember that each of us hears the voice of the earth to some degree; it is just that some of us are more sensitive than others.”

“Is that why not everyone is affected by shifts in the resonance?” Britney asked.

“Yes.”

“But musicians are?” Anita asked.

“Musicians in particular. You, and those like you, are more reliant on Sarvagita and the Schumann resonance than you know. When you play your violin and reach that moment of singularity of mind described in the
Chronicles
, you have opened yourself up to the voice of nature. Some have mistakenly correlated singularity of mind with silence, but I assure you, it is filled with treasures that could tempt even the richest of kings.”

“ ‘The music is not in the notes but in the silence between them,’ ” Anita quoted in a contemplative voice. “Mozart had it right, didn’t he?”

“Yes, he understood,” Sebastian said. “Every creature in the world reacts to the voice of the earth to varying degrees. Whatever has been disrupting the resonance is growing stronger. Yesterday many more
people felt the change. If the disruption to the Schumann resonance continues, eventually everyone will be affected.”

Lawrence said, “The news reports from around the Isle stated that a large portion of those who sought medical treatment were pregnant women.”

Sebastian nodded slowly. “That is of great concern. The amniotic fluid within the womb of a woman is very sensitive to the Schumann resonance. It acts as an amplification chamber for the growing fetus. The amniotic fluid is a conductor of sound and vibration. Food is not the only nourishment required by a child growing inside his mother’s womb.”

“That is why expectant parents often play music for a child who is still in the womb,” Lawrence said. “And why mothers sing lullabies and why people are so moved to place their hands gently on a pregnant woman’s belly and whisper welcoming words.”

“That is correct,” Sebastian said. “Expectant mothers fell ill yesterday because their unborn children were trying to communicate to them that something was wrong in their environments.”

“What will happen to the fetuses if the resonance continues to be disrupted?” Anita asked.

Sebastian’s silence answered her question.

“What about animals?” Halima asked. “What about bees, and ants, and squirrels, and—”

“And horses,” Britney interrupted. “What about Biscuit?”

“All living things are touched by Sarvagita,” Sebastian answered. Anita put her hand over Britney’s to comfort her friend. “None is free from its wonder. You cannot tinker with the fabric of life. It is a lesson that has been taught over and over again throughout time.”

“You make it sound as if this is no accident,” Anita said. “Has this happened before? Has the voice of the earth been tampered with before?”

“Yes,” Lawrence answered her. “A very long time ago, in a forgotten past, in a place that no longer exists.”

“There was an island in the ocean beyond the Pillars of Hercules,” Sebastian explained. “An ocean we now refer to as the Atlantic.”

“You’re talking about Atlantis, aren’t you?” Anita asked. “The city that Plato wrote about.”

“The city existed long before Plato was born,” Lawrence said.

“What happened to it?” Halima asked eagerly.

“Atlantis was home to people of great culture and scientific understanding,” Sebastian related. “The city was laid out in concentric circles of alternating land and water canals. A main water causeway connecting the circles led from the sea to the sensational citadel at the center of the city. Ships of all kinds arrived with treasures and spices from around the globe. At the height of this civilization, Atlantis was a beacon of prosperity to the rest of the world.”

“That doesn’t sound bad at all,” Britney said.

“It wasn’t bad then,” Sebastian continued. “But in the citadel, which was shaped like a mighty pyramid, were stored the treasure troves of Atlantis. And in the civilization’s later days, the citadel was converted into something far different.”

“Something that led to the downfall and destruction of the entire Atlantean civilization,” Lawrence said. “They endowed the pyramid with special powers.”

“They gave it the ability to extract energy from the resonance of the earth,” Sebastian said. “With that energy, they were able to control the weather and induce crops to grow at an alarming rate, and there were rumors of healing chambers that used electricity.”

“Electrotherapy,” Britney said. “One of our professors was talking about that the other day.”

“That’s right. While construction of the pyramid should have been a great resource for all of mankind, it was sanctioned during the reign of a king who became corrupted by the information that was imparted to him. It was information he should have never received.”

“What information?” Anita asked.

“A symbol,” Sebastian said. “One that should have remained hidden.”

“Who gave it to him?” Halima asked.

“This is beginning to sound like the story you told about Alexander the Great and the king of Magadha,” Anita said. “Is this another story where one of the hidden symbols from the
Chronicles
was revealed?”

“What hidden symbols?” Britney asked, completely engrossed and not wanting to be left behind in the story.

Anita looked at her. “You can’t tell anyone about any of this.”

“Who would believe me?”

“True,” Anita said. “But don’t tell anyone.”

Sebastian smiled at their banter. “The symbol is called the Rokmar. It was given, along with instructions on how to activate it, to the king by the very same brotherhood that would eventually have to destroy him.”

“You see,” Lawrence said, picking up the explanation, “because the king did not take the time to fully understand the Rokmar, he created a device that could indeed extract electrical power from the atmosphere, but it also had terrible side effects.”

“It interrupted the song of the earth.” Anita understood.

“Yes,” Sebastian said. “It produced radical waves that interfered with the Schumann resonance and thus interfered with nature.”

“The result of which is exactly what we are experiencing today,” Sebastian said. “The earth is convulsing, and everything that lives upon it is feeling that discomfort.”

“Why did that brotherhood give the king such information?” Anita asked. “Didn’t they understand that the most powerful of the Satraya symbols are veiled for a reason? What leads those who purport to be wise to commit such careless, irresponsible acts?”

Sebastian grinned. “That irresponsible brotherhood is the brotherhood of my ancestry.”

The expression on Anita’s face did not soften but actually hardened. “Are you telling me that
Enuntiato de Tutela
, the very words we follow, was
written by those who were derelict in their duties of stewardship to the world?”

“No, not exactly.
The Manifesto of the Guardians
was indeed written by our ancestors but only after they were cast out of the brotherhood. The lineage from which I was born understood that mankind is to be nurtured toward realization and is not simply entitled to it. But there were other members who believed that quantum jumps in knowledge would serve the people better.”

“Members of what?” Britney asked.

“Ever since man has walked on this earth,” Sebastian said, “there have been those entrusted with its guardianship. Throughout the annals of time, they have been known by many names: the Schintati Order, the Council of Light, the White Brotherhood, to name a few.”

“In recent history, you might have heard other names,” Lawrence added. “Such as the Rosicrucians, the Illuminati, the Freemasons . . .”

“The members of these groups reached certain levels of understanding concerning the divine nature of man,” Sebastian explained. “From time to time, when needed, they step forward to change the course of humanity.”

“Doesn’t seem like they do a very good job,” Britney said. Anita gave her a disapproving look. “I’m just saying.”

“There is some truth to your observation,” Sebastian said. “It is a difficult task guiding humanity and yet allowing people’s free will to flourish.”

“Which of the groups do you belong to?” Halima asked.

“We,” Anita corrected, turning her gaze to Sebastian. “We’re a part of whatever group you belong to.”

Sebastian smiled. “None of them,” he said. “Our group is without a name, and our history is without a marketer.”

“So what happened to the king of Atlantis?” Halima asked.

“When the king refused to shut down the device,” Lawrence said, “those who provided him with the secret knowledge had no choice but to sink the island into the sea and into oblivion.”

“How did they do such a thing?” Anita asked. “How do you sink an island?”

“It was another one of the Satraya symbols,” Halima said, “wasn’t it?”

Sebastian smiled cryptically. “A particular device was used to send a particular signal along a particular sonorous line.”

“Causing the island, along with the pyramid, to implode,” Lawrence added.

“And what is a sonorous line?” Britney asked.

“Think of it as the nervous system of the earth,” Lawrence replied.

“What device did they use?” Anita asked. “And what signal did they send? Has someone recently built a pyramid similar to the one in Atlantis? Is that why I am losing my ability to hear and play music?”

“I cannot say,” Sebastian said. “But it is clear that something or someone is wreaking havoc with the Schumann resonance.”

“Then we have to do something,” Anita said emphatically.

“Like the brotherhood did something for Atlantis?” Lawrence asked.

“If we must,” Anita quickly responded. “We cannot allow the earth to suffer like this.”

“I agree that it must be stopped,” Sebastian said. “But not with the kind of action you are alluding to. It is dangerous to tap the power of the Rokmar. Even with knowledge and proper instruction, there are risks. Unlike the old brotherhood, we will carry forward in trust. We will trust that the good people of this world can and will rise to the moment.”

“We,
too
, are part of the good people of the earth,” Anita retorted, dissatisfied with Sebastian’s answer.

“Anita, my dear,” Lawrence said, knowing his daughter, “heed Sebastian’s words.”