ARC OF THE IMMORTALS/ Book 1 — Part 2
Pursuit: 29 / Finding Truths…
Recap: Touzdae and Jac are welcomed by Geordae Phorae many thousands of years in the past. Bendel gets a short time to be with Luna, Touzdae’s twin sister in the flesh within the half-life chamber. Touzdae receives the three cards — talents/potions from the gatekeeper in the hinterland. Jac and Geordae discuss upgrades to the Needlecraft. Touzdae embarks on a voyage of consciousness transfer in search of...
Why here? I never intended to be here. It must be a shadow impulse within. I will stay and listen.
Touzdae floated upward in a cathedral-like ceiling. She attuned her senses to the woman and man below. They were having a cup of tea. It was Antares Prime, the characteristics of the light gave it away.
She listened. The man was Goto-ak famous or infamous depending on who you asked. He was of the many billions of Antarians that were not part of the Emmons, the Kritos, or the Von Deigns∞. He was an agent for individuals of all three groups at times throughout history.
“What does it take to be an immortal? Are you an immortal?” the woman asked.
“There are two types of immortals. One is a humanoid being whose cell structure regenerates between ages 32 and 150 years approximately. While it is true that all Antarians are regenerating on a celluar level. This happens the ages of 50 to 80 thousand years. The immortal individuals regenerate to the physical age of thirty-two either at 32 or 150 years approximately. They live continuously for 100s of quadrillions of years of chronological time. These immortals live in secret. These are the rarest of individuals.
“The second type of immortal is something I can make, at least as a body. I make an exact copy of the individual’s body who wishes to live forever. This does not make them an immortal. I grow them to 29 years of age and then slow the growth rate down. Their growth rate is normal by the time they are 32. The individual that wishes the body duplicate that I make dies consciously, by accident, or at the end of 80 thousand years give or take. They pass through the bardos and reincarnate into their duplicate body. They are immortal only with memories of the previous life completely intact. All previous lives memories are available too. This happens for a small group of those who engage in the process. Memory is the — ” Touzdae was pulled out of the talk. It was abrupt.
She floated near a ringed nebula. She was in the noble gases of the nebula. She hovered near a ship on fire. She was on board the ship as fires were being put out.
Two individuals ran throughout the ship.
An injured pregnant woman was giving her unborn son to her husband’s womb. Some hours later she expired.
“What are you doing here? I don’t need spectators to judge me for my mistakes,” the woman said harshly to Touzdae.
“Where are we?” Touzdae asked, disoriented.
“This is the null space created so we can communicate,” the woman said. It was a blank white space surrounding them. “Wait. I know of you. You are an Emmons. Yes?”
“Yes, I am Touzdae of Emmons.”
“Yes, Touzdae. We will know each other very well in a different time. I am — ”
Touzdae was pulled out and awoke in an unfamiliar place.
She awoke near the sacred wells of Emmons on Ennis. It was a planetoid circling a system of seven stars with its own light source. Another consciousness was nearby.
The white canvas fluttered in the wind. A soft grain of surface dust from the desert caressed her skin. She sat wrapped in sacred lavender-dyed cloth indicative of royalty. She sat up wondering:
Where is this place? What is my name?
Four small women garbed in tan robes and matching headgear gathered around her.
“Who are you?” she shouted in dismay.
“Oh Mi Lady we are here to serve you,” the tallest of the four spoke.
“What is this place? Where am I? Who are you?”
“This is the western plain of Maccabee. You are the Makadennakitch, the anointed one,” the eldest one said.
The other three whispered to each other:
“She is the one of prophecy,” they whispered loudly.
“This is no secret in what you say. I can hear you.” She cried, frustrated. “Take me to the one in charge!”
“You are in charge, Mi Lady,” the spokeswoman said.
“Then take me to my advisors.”
“Yes Mi Lady,” they answered in unison. Touzdae strode from beneath the tent through the sands to a small precipice. She squinted at the horizon late in the day under scattered clouds.
There was a walled city in the distance.
They carried her in a covered chair halfway there. Frustrated, she jumped and strode the remaining distance.
Reclined on a divan surrounded by servants fanning her she woke. Three of her counselors genuflected before her.
She sat upright.
“Enough with this fawning worship. Cease immediately. Fan people leave us.”
The counselors looked at one another with eyes.
She clapped her hands.
They turned and faced her.
“I want you to answer my questions without hesitation no matter how frivolous they may sound. Agreed?”
They nodded in affirmation.
“What do you call this place?”
“The Palace of Maccabee,” one was eager.
“The planet, what planet, what world is this called?”
The small quiet man-boi spoke:
“Ennis. It is an ancient word referring to what is believed to be a sphere in the inky blackness of the heavens.”
“Do not speak heresy, my brother,” one counselor blurted.
“He is correct. This is Ennis orbiting opposite to the world of Gata on the other side of the stars,” the middle counselor spoke.
“You are the One of Prophesy,” the small quiet man-boi said simply.
∞ for more on Antarian civilization:
the previous chapter:
Thank you for joining me in the adventures that span lifetimes and worlds. (If you do NOT wish to be tagged, let me know, and I’ll tag you not):
Barbara Murray | K. Pearson Bradley | René Beauchemin | Dougfrombk | Rebecca Romanelli | Joseph Lieungh | Dr. Preeti Singh | Pene Hodge | Ravyne Hawke | Dr Mehmet Yildiz | Kris Bedenian | Alberto García 🚀🚀🚀 | Blaine Coleman | Lee David Tyrrell | DL Nemeril | David Price | Rip Parker | Annelise Lords | Libby Shively McAvoy |