Occult Fiction

A Timeless Tale

Begin the end

This story is meant to be read as the continuation of “The Illusion of Choice”. Since choice is an illusion though, you can also read it as the introduction to it. Or, not read it at all.

The inspiration for the present story came from one more of Gustave Deresse; The Ineclectic; Writer; AI Artist’s prompts: “Mental States As Mere Inner-Universal Configurations”.

I. How Power Came to Be

A lonely tear has formed the essence of ferocity, as the winds of time howled their never-ending songs in the midst of chaos and atrocities. Never before has a human soul witnessed the belligerent hate of the martyrdom of this kingdom. The Spheres, all wrapped up in their glory, marvel at the futile attempts of those still in a mortal shell. Their Inhabitants know it is time.

One celebration usually follows the other around here. No one is obliged to attend, but everyone is always there and nowhere to be found. The mist of the forest rises, a fine whistling tune is heard in the distance as the sun’s first light reaches the ground. Creation starts because it never had a beginning or an end.

Some humans find it difficult to understand that timelessness does not equal idleness. In the pursuit of perfection, the One who stands against the Gates of Existence is bound to return ashore and sing the fateful tale. No one is obliged to listen, but everyone is always there to stretch their voice to the firmament in hopes of being heard or even saved. A single flare of light illuminates the cobblestone path to the Spheres. The grand entrance shines in gold and ruby, as the first light of the sun gently caresses it.

The mystery of the Spheres or any mystery whatsoever, is no longer a mystery in the hands of the One. Understanding Power has a cost, and embodying it gratifies all desires and eradicates the aimlessness of the purgatory. The essence of abundance in its extravagant glory will never be found because it never existed.

And that is how Power came to be.

II. The Tale

Somewhere across the ocean of existence lies a single golden leaf. Its beauty is unattainable and its weight is incomprehensible. It can exist in multiple spaces all at once, because no one possesses it. In the early morning light of one October day, the humming of the frozen river stopped. A translucent mist formed into a ball of white light and softly touched the ice. It kept hovering there for a while, and then dipped into it.

The ice was an illusion. A man observed the first creation of his lifetime. As soon as he realized it, the ice disappeared and the humming of the river returned. The yellow and brown autumn leaves creaked softly as he stepped on them to reach the riverbank. There were no birds singing, just some raindrops dancing gracefully as they were embraced by the gentle wind. In the distance, the creaking of thunder could be heard.

The man, not otherwise specified, reached into the right pocket of his jacket and fetched a magical kaleidoscope. Through it he could see not colorful patterns but grim formations that took shape according to his intention. His first intention for the day was to learn about the Timeless Ones, those who are never talked about in other tales he has passed through.

His heart was beating faster as another thunder rolled in. Sitting on a large rock, he was thinking that perhaps he was a dragon once. He aimed the kaleidoscope at the river and looked into it. A few raindrops traversed his cheeks like tears, but he was not there anymore.

III. Entering the Void

After a fall that lasted for what seemed to be an eternity, the man felt that his feet were touching the ground. He looked around but could not see anything in the vast blackness that was surrounding him. He used his fingers to force his eyelids to open, and some light helped him discern that he was once more at the grand entrance. He pushed the gate open, using the fingers of his left hand to keep his eyelids open. As he walked towards the twisted gray tower he remembered that the void needs no eyes.

Climbing up the million steps of the tower was an easy task, because by now he had learned how to float above them. He was nearing the middle of the stair when he heard the grand entrance open again. A gush of wind flew past him and almost knocked him down. When he regained his balance, he pushed forward to ascend the stair faster. This time he was not forlorn.

Once he reached the top, he gently moved forward and passed right through the locked wooden door. Eleven steps upwards led him to the top of the tower. He truly felt like a dragon in that moment. The gush of wind rushed past him once more, bringing an emanation of a sweet flowery smell. He recalled that previously, at the riverbank, he could not smell anything. This realization made him unstable, so much so that he almost fell from the towertop.

He quickly regained his balance and called out to anyone who might be around. The gush of wind, now cold as ice, pushed him from the back and he spiraled down the tower until he hit the ground hard. He realized what he has done.

IV. The Timeless Ones

In the pathworking of the Spheres, the man has always excelled in hidden meanings and riddles of the past. When he glided through the clouds of the future, he could see the Dark Gods and converse with them. However, in the moments at the gray tower he would always fall over and start again.

As he contemplated his latest experience, he knew fully well what needed to be done next: A communion with the most vivacious of his desires. A lascivious feeling that has not left him alone since he discovered the passage way beyond the Moon entrance.

Forgetting the carnal desires was not an easy task but it needed to be done. Reaching at his bookcase, he pulled out a book with a hard red cover. He run his fingers through the pages and stopped in the passage on the Lotus Eaters. He felt a shiver down his spine and quickly jotted down a few thoughts.

Going beyond the illusion of time requires that the vastness of desire is understood and resolved. The halls of eternity can be misleading for those who cannot comprehend the value of time as it is. Not embracing the finite nature of the human existence will drag down even the most skilled practitioner to a level of repetition and futility.

The Tree is not all there is, for there are multitudes of clusters in and around it where the shells lose their way and become engulfed. Idleness and the bare fields of a mundane death will lead one astray.

Until time is acknowledged in the lower planes, the Timeless Ones will be a mere illusion of a failed disenchantment.