The Illusion of Choice

A short story on enlightenment and ascension

Ι. The Illusion of Choice

When darkness creeps out of the magic forest, all creatures cease their songs and devote their final moments to the ambient flow of an existence they have always longed for. The consequences of an action so obscure, only the ebbs and flows of a current can reveal them.

A lone blue light shines above the crystal clear waters of the sea of solitude. It was never clear when the last battle took place, nor when the last cry was heard. As the light flickers, just above the horizon the Star of hope ascends to fulfill its bleak destiny.

In this land of wondrous absolution there is no one else but the commandment and the sheer pain of not existing. What is difficult for a creature of habit, is what is painful for a Master of None. Even though this truth is whispered in the ears of newborns ever since time stood still, grasping its true meaning is still a feat reserved for the Chosen One.

Who could that be though?

Whispers echo in the chamber of delusion as one more piece moves ahead. What is lost is now forgotten, and the tide undulates a twisted fate.

The man struggles to breathe as the shadows hold a firm grip over his existence. He could make any deal now, he could even sell his clay self in exchange for answers.

How many have failed before him!

Humming can now be heard in the distance, a premonition and an omen of his sealed fate. Just as the clock strikes seven times, a crow flies above his head and dissipates in the air. He swallows the last drop of aether and closes his eyes, surrendering in the arms of darkness.

There was never a choice to be made.

ΙΙ. The Dome

Arriving at an empty space is always thrilling because the possibilities are endless and no one is there to spoil the ground of evanescent decadence. The man is now standing still, surrounded by complete darkness.

If only he had decided beforehand, now he would have all the answers!

Breathing here is exhausting, because every inhale brings pain and longing. The man decides that it would be wiser to just float about, without giving it much consideration.

He first orders for soil to be created, and then manifests his love for the timeless waves. He swings his hands in a circular motion above his head, thus creating the most luminous dome full of stars and distant galaxies. The light of this marvel illuminates the waters of excitement, and the man breathes life into a marble temple that springs out of his mind as he reminisces his readings. The dome glistens and hums an unspoken tune, as the waves rhythmically obtain the justice that was forsaken.

The man now walks along a forlorn path to greatness, holding a sceptre in his right hand and his crown in the left hand. Loneliness is striving to break apart the dome to enter the land, but the man is too absorbed in feeling every step of the way. The roaring of thunder can be heard in the distance, and the mysteries of blood begin to unfold.

The dome shakes and hums louder and louder, the stars become the map of the internal church and the man falls on his knees and exhales in pain. His creation is destined to bring forth the sacred night, filling the chalice of eternity.

ΙΙΙ. Entering the Sphere

It is always a magnificent sight to behold when the newborn soul takes the first step into non-existence. The wonder of a life foretold, a movement of the strongest light that is still not sufficiently bright in the vastness of primordial darkness. The descendant of the fox and eagle has to keep on fighting for a destiny that never was or ever will be, as the spiraling motion unfolds its secrets.

The temple emits a warm glow from the many small flames that dance around its walls and columns. The man places his hands on the book of creation and lifts his head to notice that trees can now be seen in the distance.

It is still too dark for him to go wandering there, so he controls his breath.

Excitement is grabbing him from the thighs and waist, and a strong vibration cracks the temple’s floor. A shimmering silver mist arises from within the cracks and surrounds the man.

Breathing is not needed anymore, the four chimes echo in his head and he opens the palms of his hands to manifest a golden arch. The world of crepuscule emits its final opalescent flares and Ascension is ready to commence.

The man looks around him while he becomes enveloped by the darkness of the sphere.

The scenery around him is surprisingly peaceful, and he wonders if he will be able to visit again. Before finishing his thought though, a gentle voice in his head asks him to let go. He closes his eyes and bursts out in a single ball of light.

As his human body catches a breath, darkness is now embraced.

Publishing this story was inspired by four stories I read recently:

From Ben Ulansey

From Mick Gibson

From Natalie

And from Nikolaos Skordilis