Chapter 10
Bewildered
“This is the story that’s been passed down to me through thousands of years. You may take it as you like, Kailey.” Gunthreon seems eager to begin. “Just remember, I am not a scientist, so take what you can from what limited information I give you.” He clears his throat and takes a breath, inhaling deeply before he begins.
“The center of the world began with two atoms, and these atoms consisted of two opposing energies,” he says. “After repeated contact with each other, these energies slowly produced other molecules, and the power of their opposition eventually created physical matter, and life was formed.” I give him a dumbfounded look, which doesn’t take much effort on my part. “Think of two pots clanging, and sound—a third matter—is formed, yes?” I give him the same dumbfounded look, but he continues.
“Despite the opposition of these initial energies, life was at first harmonious. Life matter continued to grow, until it formed creatures which ranged in size from bacteria to bigger even than Bu. As these life forms evolved, so did the two original atoms, and the complexity involved in their composition gave them great power. They oversaw all life that was created. Their creations roamed freely, developing many special traits, and many different abilities. Their world was called Renhala.
“Those that walked Renhala named the two energies with which their life forces flowed. They were to be known as the Higher Ones: Neda the Kind and Velopa the Stern.
“It is said that one day, a creature was born—a magnificent being of great beauty and strength. It walked upright, and was able to talk to all creatures and create wonderful works of art with its bare hands. It could sing and make joyful exhilarating noise, and rock you to sleep with gentle lullabies. It was smooth and voluptuous. It had long, silky, silver hair that flowed to its feet and reflected twofold any light which shone upon it. Sadly, this being lived without a name, because the Higher Ones fought back and forth, day after day, over who had the right to name the creature.
Neda the Kind insisted it had more to do with its birth, since the creature cradled all life in its hands and fed all creatures with the milk of its breasts. But Velopa the Stern felt it held the power to name the creature, because of the creature’s ability to scorn and the aptitude with which it could persuade. The battle between Neda and Velopa became so horrible that the lands began to crumble and life began to die. Those creatures that remained began fighting each other and taking the side of either Neda or Velopa. You could no longer love both. You had to choose where your loyalty lay.
“One day, Neda decided something had to happen to end the quarrelling. After much thought, Neda brought forth an idea to Velopa: This creature needed to be destroyed, or else all their other lovely creations would soon become extinct. Velopa felt it should be the one to finish the deed and agreed to give Neda one day to spend with the creature and decide how to destroy it. But Neda loved the creature so dearly, and the extra day only confirmed that Neda could not have the creature destroyed, so it came up with a plan.
When the new day began, Neda explained to Velopa, in its saddest tone, that the best death would be a quick jump off the edge of the deepest chasm. Velopa quickly agreed, eager to see how the creature would react to facing death. It found the beautiful creature and told it what it must do. Despite the fact that this creature held its own free will, it knowingly agreed to die to save all other life. The creature walked to the edge of the chasm and shed a single tear of glowing light before it walked off.
But unknown to Velopa, Neda had spidery creations weave a sticky web thousands of feet into the chasm, where the darkness swallowed all light, to catch the creature. It was there Neda decided that, to protect it from harm, the creature could not retain all its extraordinary abilities. So Neda immobilized certain areas of its brain and exiled it to a place where all life was limited in its abilities—a place where life was much simpler, and a place where vain Velopa would never lower itself to search. Neda also decided to name this creature in secret, whispering ‘Wohmin’ in its ear and deciding that, for its own sake, it was never to see this creature again. The realm it was banished to was this realm, here.
“This creature roamed the new realm in solitude, until one day, it stumbled upon another creature similar to itself, which had grown from the Earth. They told each other their stories and loved each other wholeheartedly. Times were happy. They flourished, and life became what many know it as now.
“Through whispers of the chasm, Velopa eventually found out what happened and decided to find this creature and keep it for itself. So Velopa descended to this level and found many creatures similar to its original, but not as powerful, and it seemed death came much easier here. It was evident the creatures were not using the powers stored deep within themselves. But still, the power involuntarily spewed from each of them through mighty surges, threatening Velopa. Velopa pondered their creation and thought Neda surely was behind it all. Overcome with anger, Velopa vowed to destroy all existence at this level, but to do it in a way that Neda would only realize the plan too late. This began what we refer to as
‘The Surge.’
“Slowly, this level of existence starting killing its environment. Wars of huge proportion began, and debilitating diseases, plagues and epidemics, were born.
One day, Neda decided to break its vow and visit the creature it so longed to see. But upon its arrival, Neda was appalled to see what had happened and knew that Velopa was behind the insidious actions. Neda restored some of the creatures’ abilities, realizing this may be the only way to save them, but it took these creatures many a century to relearn all their gifts, and it was only a select few who wanted to use the gifts on this plane, because so many were afraid to challenge themselves. They had become too comfortable with their lives. So those who chose to use their reborn gifts saw that they could move between the two realms, and once again, those who traveled sided with either Neda or Velopa. This battle still thrives. Neda believes all creatures can once again live harmoniously, but Velopa has grown angry. Velopa, they say, is trying to build an empire of creatures to control all those it deems inferior.
To many here on Earth, Renhala is only the movement you see out of the corner of your eye—that unidentifiable smell that reminds you of childhood fairies and goblins, or the strange feeling of d
éjà vu. Then, there are those few of us who travel between realms and struggle either to protect what’s left of a harmonious life or strengthen Velopa’s army of cretins and misfits solely for the purpose of havoc. Velopa’s forces are growing every day, and humanity as you know it, Kailey, is in grave danger—humanity in Renhala, as well as our realm here, known as Abscondia. Every day, more and more evil creatures show up outside Renhala, threatening our lives, here. We need your help.”
Despite the look of desperation in Gunthreon
’s eyes, I don’t know whether to believe this story and run to the hills for shelter, or instead laugh and proclaim my new friend a great comedian. Saliva starts puddling in my mouth as my brain churns through the information.
I glance over at Bu. He’s snoring now with his mouth wide open.
“I need some sort of proof of my connection and that you’re not some wacko trying to brainwash me.”
He walks to the doorway and calls me to him. He grabs my hand and I walk with him into the dining room, toward the wall of pictures. His hand rises and points to one in particular, direct center. My eyes rise and stare in disbelief at the face that so resembles mine as I trace my finger over the innocent eyes. I realize at that moment that my life as I know it is going to change: No more caramel corn, stuffed teddy bears, and Fruit Loops.
Dead center on the wall, my mother sits, holding the urn with a delicate smile on her face. And now the real test of my strength begins.
“You have been given your powers back. You must use them to help create the h
armony this land once knew,” pleads Gunthreon. “You will find that many around you also have special abilities. Some know how to use them; others do not, yet. Evil creatures are lurking in the darkness, trying to establish a solemn world, of despair, in hopes that all beings will turn to Velopa. And as one who travels between planes, you must remember three things.
“One, drugs will not work for you, and alcohol will not get you drunk,” he says. My heart skips a beat as I think back to all those hopeless moments I downed bottles of wine and rum, and popped countless pills. It was an attempt to silence my brain, and stop the pain. But, there was actually a solid reason why it did nothing for me—I wasn
’t a hopeless wreck.
Gunthreon continues with, “So sinus medicine, aspirin, pimple cream, whatever, will not help you and you will feel no effects from alcohol. But, you will not get sick as often-” He pauses and looks at the picture of my mom, “-and drugs and alcohol only muddy the senses, anyway. We don
’t need drunk idiots traveling between planes on whims.
“Two, as a traveler, when your
body dies, your essence will travel to where you are, or are not, granted a true death by the Higher Ones. We also believe this is when you become a spirit guide, connected to a living individual, but we’re not sure.
“Three, your weapon is always with you, as it is with most travelers. You may not see it now, but if you relax and let yourself believe it’s there, you can faintly see it strapped to your back. Any questions?”
“You expect questions right now? I can barely even remember to keep breathing, let alone form questions! I don’t know if I can believe this all.”
“I
’ll wait,” he chirps, standing in front of me, twiddling his thumbs.
“Fine! A
bout my weapon, what is that thing?” I feel my back and start frisking myself, hoping to land on something.
Something solid, I can believe. And of course I don’t feel it.
“Ah, that was a perfect fit for you, I think. I
t is called a monk’s spade,” states Gunthreon. “Long ago, monks carried them on their missions through vast lands. They would use the spade as a shovel to bury the dead and the crescent served as a weapon against thieves. Monks would often travel between realms to observe, and write journals of their findings.
“You are going to need practice using your weapon and I will probably be the one to help you with training, as well as teach you about your powers. Now, to get to Renhala, we must practice as well—”
“I dropped it!” I wince, preparing for Gunthreon’s anger.
“Dropped what?”
“My monk’s spade.”
“No, you didn’t.”
“Yes,” I say, shaking my head and raising my eyebrows, “I did.”
He points at my back and I feel warmth on my spine. I relax and slowly reach behind me, and sure enough, I faintly feel the shaft, but cannot grasp it.
“Don’t worry, we’ll work on that one,” he says.
I walk around in a circle like a dog chasing its tail. By the sixth round, I’m about to give up when I suddenly cut my finger on the blade. I instinctively shove my finger in my mouth and frown at Gunthreon. “If I
’m to believe in karma,” I say, “how come bad things happen to good people? Why was I attacked? What did I do so wrong that I deserved that? And what about my mom—her pain?”
Gunthreon ponders long and hard.
Worn out from too much information, I sit in a dining room chair, waiting for whatever answer he may give me. “Bad things may happen to someone, but not always because
that
person committed some evil deed,” he says. “It could simply be the butterfly effect. Then, that person’s negative experience changes some other event, entirely elsewhere. Karma has her hands in
everything
. It’s all about how you respond, and whether you build or deconstruct. Yes, bad things happen to good people, but it’s these experiences that make a good person great! It’s the ultimate test. Unfortunately, karma seems to grow quieter as the days progress. Less and less instances are seen in which positive outdoes negative. Do you understand?”
Uncertain how to reply, I try to take what Gunthreon says with a grain of salt. I shrug.
He puts his hand out towards me and I grab it once more. He leads me back into the room with Bu. I glance over at Bu, and he’s not only still snoring, but also drooling.
We both walk to our previous seats and sit. Bu chuckles in his sleep.
Speaking to Gunthreon, I whisper, quietly, “You mentioned powers and abilities. What kinds of strange things am I going to be running into if I do join this ‘quest’ you speak of?” I shake at the visions my imagination conjures, like Bu-sized visions of my attacker and killer Venus flytraps.
I have a vivid imagination.
“You might be quite surprised at the similarities between planes, like foods and anim
als. Those who travel bring certain items between planes, making them commonplace in
both
planes. Believe it or not, strawberries are native to Renhala,” he says and I raise my eyebrows, “as well as flying squirrels—and cinnamon! And you do know at least one other traveler whose abilities you have witnessed,” says Gunthreon. “My grandson, Russell.”
Amber!
“He better not hurt Amber!” I say, a bit loud. She’s so fragile, despite the act she puts on.