Chapter I: A Fleeting Glimpse

 "I cannot be awake, for nothing looks to me as it did before, or else I am awake for the first time, and all before had been a mean sleep."

-Walt Whitman

I

For the first time in what seemed an eternity, the vibrations of the soft, fertile earth conjured an electric matrimony with the soles of bare feet. Toes curled and clutched at the soil in stunned disbelief, nerves strained furiously to comprehend the astonishment of what could've very well had been a rare species of ecstasy. Long ungainly legs, wobbling like those of a toddler, propelled across the misty tendrils with no particular destination in mind, nearly sprinting into the blue with nothing more for guidance but for some pure, indefinite instinct. Each progressive step forward engraved it's signature in the humid mire, each stride produced another section of muddy contrail in it's wake as the limbs sauntered along with an unusual rhythm of serenity. Lush rhizomes of grass and clover sprouted all across the region in thick green patches, blades clumped together like emeralds damp with fresh morning dew. The annelid benefactors of such healthy turf would occasionally erupt from the prosperous sod in wriggling confusion, only for the segmented, mucous earthworms to burrow back within the refuge of their subterranean tunnels, just as quickly as they had appeared.

Just because the eyes could not see in the proper sense of the word, it doesn't mean that it could all be simply passed off as nonexistent. Quite the opposite.

As it were, there was some difficulty in seeing the surrounding landscape with just mere human vision. Everywhere they looked, the opaque veils of fog and mist drifted across the surrounding environment like an audience of phantasms, taunting the mind with hints of churning illusion from the vast abyss of oblivion. There was an odd tinge buzzing in the air as the sprint decelerated into a cautious sort of jog along the derelict path, something which assumed an eerie and rather surreal ambiance with each passing step. It was almost like rambling through the desolate, haunted fields of Erebus...and yet, in some nameless and unfathomable kind of perspective, it was also like strolling through the asphodel meadows of fabled Elysium.

Regardless of whether or not the theory of metaphysics is proven aptable to the feigned values of humanity's dim future, these unseen denizens of the otherworld have always seemed to actively seek us as their fleshy vessels of enhanced communication, or as their living vaults for storing extraordinary information. They are said to become visible to us in every conceivable form, often visiting us in our times of traverse struggle, and even speaking to us in cryptic sensations so unimaginably alien that even the wisest of medicine men would have trouble deciphering the complete significance of their revered messages. It is sometimes still thought that the spectral peoples of the Ghost Country continue to live among us in an increasingly-neglected symbiosis.

The frigid winds of Boreas blew across the ethereal realm with the strength and indifference of a howling wildfire. Condensed walls of rolling fog splashed against the thin boundaries of existence like the waves of a tsunami, the potent blankets of heavy vapor swirling enigmatically with the silvery depths of infinity. The body shivered occasionally from the freezing draft of the advancing late-winter gales, while the veins pumped blood sporadically in a futile attempt to stay warm from within the bleak eye of the psychological storm. The brain was caught in the midst of a possible upheaval as countless bewildering thoughts pounded haphazardly against the stirring cranium, ricocheting off the inner walls of the skull like a pestle against the contents of a mortar.

With nothing to charge the mind's batteries but for the sudden dosage of unrelenting willpower, the perceptiveness of the optical nerves slowly started to collect themselves little by precious little, recovering at a deliberate snail's pace so as to better adapt to the vibrant textures of the illuminated haze. For a little while, at least, it appeared to work out just fine...that is, up until the moment when the unsuspecting retinas were blinded by the first beam in the parting firmament.

There was no reliable way of knowing just how long it was before the body's circadian rhythms had finally returned to even a remotely acceptable state of normality. The burning eyes simply refused to do more than squint through their heavy lids as the rods and cones pulsed convulsively against the oncoming rush of the hideous strain, building extreme pressure in the sockets like an elastic spring until it made everything appear with the mass of a painfully obscure mirage. Perhaps there was a certain part of the brain too accustomed to living within the claustrophobic square walls, or perhaps the mind had bathed once too often in the sterilized glow of florescent lighting.

Something along those lines, anyway.

The tension, which came across as impossibly unbearable, had abruptly settled into some peculiar state of numbing detachment, which in turn eventually allowed the dilated pupils to somewhat relax as they attempted to adjust to the dazzling glare of the foreign brightness. From the direction assumed to be east, brilliant rivulets of light cascaded over the brim of the gloomy overcast like the fleet waters of Victoria Falls, sculpting the shapes of the surrounding purgatory world with eroding shadows. The capacious horizon began to glimmer in a rosy glow as lovely Aurora opened the celestial doors to the heavens, generating her own uplifting essence as she introduced a familiar star upon the mythical landscape. The hidden crevices of the brain abruptly reeled off primeval titles in rapid succession, each one galvanized syllable by syllable in the burning radiance of hydrogen and helium: Phobeus Apollo, Amen-Ra, Shamash, Amaterasu Ōmikami, Dazhbog, Helios, Horus, Krishna, Mithra, Bacchus, Jesus Christ...the omnipotent deity went by many names.

The eyes began to water in some forgotten euphoria as the immense bluffs of the atmosphere were caught ablaze by the flickering golden inferno. The crystalline rays of glorious Sol soared from the encompassing arch of the mackerel sky, showering all of waking creation with life-sustaining vitality. The fiery corona carved through the engulfing drapes of grey like a lone lantern in the dark, it's bright halos emanating a pleasant heat from this most royal of crowns. The vigorous daylight was casting it's divine clarity upon the faraway domain, chasing off the stubborn clouds and revealing a beautiful world in the strikingly vivid detail long since lost to living memory.

Vast evergreen curtains unfurled across the four sacred directions as far as the eye could see as thousands of impermeable conifers reached for the heavens with grasping hands with fingers of needles and leaves. The towering giants dominated the territory with a virtuous rule, defining the remarkable ecosystem which spilled out of this spellbound domain of limbo. Nomadic billows of stratus clouds wove intricate patterns between the ancient trunks and the dense underbrush, drifting in close proximity to the living ground as if longing to caress the terra firma beneath. The trickling bed of a commodious tributary, partially hidden by the prominent stands of perennial foliage, surged along its ostensibly northwestern course towards the distant estuaries, perhaps leading ultimately to the roaring whitecaps of the mighty Pacific if the memories didn't lie. The linguistic melodies of animal life began to fracture the monotonous silence as colorful songbirds began to warble in their avian languages from above the treetops, as unseen rodents scurried hastily through the packed shrubbery, as rustic crickets began to chirp jubilantly in the dense pockets of lush humus.

The sheer enthrallment brought about by the beautiful reality of the untamed wildlife nearly overwhelmed the captivated mind, the atypical trance intensifying from the pure complexity of the immeasurable virgin forests. Byzantine layers of arcane consciousness hurtled across the cavernous synapses with breakneck speed and authority, screeching like an alarm clock as they woke the dormant dendrites of neurons muddled by their prolonged and timeworn slumber. The inkling, genuine sense of individual identity started to wash over the absorbed psyche, something which is considered so inconceivably taboo that it simply didn't compute to most of us average drones. Yet it was something so feasibly real, any sensible person would've continuously chosen to blind themselves with rose-tinted glasses then to even so much as think to consider the idea of facing the sight of the truth head-on for what it really was...but there it was.

For the first time in what seemed an eternity, the thoughts and deeds of the human spirit, the very essence of ka itself, felt like they were actually being perceived by the cosmic powers brought forth by Mother Nature and the Great Mystery Above.

It was here. It was really here.

The magnificent yellowish-white sun flew defiantly towards the vintage point of noon, far above the roof of the exosphere, yet the blazing globe was already fading back within the spacious awning of the murky clouds. Already the gathering tempests set into motion to win back the coveted heavens, and it became apparent that the tyrannical overcast planned to dominate the skies once again with an iron fist. The whistling squall which followed the premature change in weather like a wayward hound riddled the arms with a series of icy goosebumps, while each freezing breath invoked gaseous sprites to briefly manifest into existence before they dissipating back into the chilly air.

The incipient concentration spent towards staring dumbfounded upon the raw, vital power of the natural world seemed to have taken on the adverse effects of dimethyltryptamine as it rebuilt the foundations of the soul's joie de vivre, rejuvenating the latent adrenal glands with fresh doses of epinephrine. The psyche became unanimously convinced to recklessly will itself into dogging it through the rugged terrain without any particular destination in mind, to hell with any obstacles that dared to stand in the way. Each precarious stride into the unknown flirted with the dangerous predicament of planting a nasty facer into thorny brambles comprised of grasping blackberry runners and stinging nettles, among other trivial perils. Even as the arms flailed in a stumbling attempt to keep balance, even while the legs continued to run with a firm and mindless intent, there was the faintest hint in the mind that there was no lack in this odd orientation, no minor confusion nor negligible mistake.

If anything, there was a strange type of vague, puzzling knowledge at work here, something which could've only been fully understood through the hypothetical judgments of the observing spirits...alas, if only they could be understood.

Hmm...perhaps there was a hint of savant revelation at work here. One could never truly know for certain, after all.

Time, if there ever was such a thing, ebbed away like drops of quicksilver. The ideology of pain battered and thrashed against deaf ears as the throbbing limbs continued imperceptibly against the lead forces of gravity. Bones which had felt so stiff began to burst into crackling laughter as they flexed and quivered like the fissures of a raging San Andreas earthquake. Sweat beaded along silent gullies from the forehead downward, carving miniature versions of forlorn Venice waterways throughout the entire surface of cold, pale skin. The wide-awake eyes faltered slightly from mild ophthalmic nausea, but they were overall indifferent to the petty human reaction, focusing solely on the next destination, wherever it may be. The highways and byways of neurons grew drunk off the chemical mixture of adrenaline and endorphin, this sweetest of wines becoming essential in eventually regaining control of the abandoned dusty attic, at long last allowing the banished ancestral intuitions of generations past to finally return and wash away the old cobwebs which had restricted the inner being in the forgotten lofts.

After an essentially aimless sprint that could best be described as a long, strange trip across the fantastic margins of this unknown dimension, it only took one misstep from a slipshod foot before the otherworldly trek was abruptly stopped by the tentacle grip of a protruding root. There was only the small, morbid crunch before the oddly-exhilarating sensation of flight destined to crash headfirst into the semisolid earth. What happened next might have been an example of luck, chance, a miracle, or just plain old coincidence. What could've been a severe collision that would end anywhere from a painful wall of hurt to becoming comatose (or, God forbid, death) instead landed upon a surprisingly plush carpet composed of horsetail, sword ferns and fresh sorrel, mere inches away from the massive bole of an outcast redwood tree. Exhaustion had begun to take its toll as the physical aspect of the figure sprawled carelessly across the soft, cushioning vegetation which surrounded the giant trunk like a hoplite shield, even going as far as overriding the throbbing fire of a broken ankle in the preparation to be taken over by the need to sleep. Shall the blue pill or the red one take effect? Forgot which one did what...

There must have been other powers at work that kept the paranormal fatigue at bay, and all they really did was tilted the head slightly upward. At that very instant, the mind had frozen solid with a silent, reverent awe, every minute urge to sleep now banished from conscious thought. It's funny how the most insignificant details will often end up making the largest differences in the determination of one's fate. History always seems full of these interesting little details.

The archaic colossus ascended far into the ether, perhaps standing at the proud height of a hundred meters, though from this ground-dwelling angle it could've been easily taller than the tallest and largest of the mighty Titans of old. From it's impressive crow's-nest the ancient being overlooked the pebble-strewn shore of the neighboring stream with a persona of sacrosanct synergy, it's gnarled roots protruding and crisscrossing the vicinity of it's picturesque sanctuary. The uppermost branches, or rather those that could be seen from the ground level, swayed casually against the wailing airstreams as the winds hissed in playful laughter through the tree's limbs and germinating cones. The hard, fibrous bark peeled away in block-like red strips across the redwood's massive circumference, where shaggy growths of moss and lichen sprouted helter-skelter in thick fungoid mats. The therapeutic tonic scent of the ageless Goliath and the symbiotic lifeforms thereon drifted like a zephyr into the olfactory of memory and across the deepest recesses of the mind, sobering the consciousness with a smelling-salt of lost, Zen-like wisdom.

The cerebrum throbbed eagerly as it absorbed the essence which emanated so freely from the sequoia's gargantuan majesty, indulging and downright banging in the rich archaic tales brought about by the tree's refreshing aroma. The collective memory of the cathedral forest seeped forth from the deity influences of the nature divinities, recounting enthusiastically of the lost sagas dating back to humanity's extinguished innocence. A grand majority of the stories had originated back in the bygone eras of the classical Golden Age and before, back in those immemorial days before the questionable spirit of Prometheus had taught the bipedal apes of another continent to master the elemental art of fire.

Another volley of that unfamiliar sense of inner exultation washed over the physique with wave after possessive wave of dawning realization, making the mind spin dizzily within the mental tornado. The head slumped heavily against the substantial trunk of the primordial totem, one ear slumped against the outermost layer of reddish bark, listening intently as those primal incantations mesmerized the soul with a sort of novel, dizzying awareness. The eyes closed as if in sleep, and the consciousness submerged into Wonderland.

The evergreen narrations were accompanied by the calm trickle of fresh water coursing along the stream's sharp oxbow, intermixing with the lyrical calls of birds and beasts and insects until they all merged together into an elaborate pagan's chant. As if the bleary eyes had given way to something more like echolocation, the external mind partook in a hawk-eyed view of the astounding locale, watching and listening with nonchalant respect as the last rays of sunlight dimmed in the engulfing shrouds of congregating cloud banks. The curious mind, avoiding the fate that killed the metaphorical cat, observed the sturdy forms of rough-skinned Douglas fir and bishop pine some distance adjacent to this chief of the coastal rainforest, their stiff needles diverging from spiraling branches as if to grasp fervently for the vistas of the dark, brewing sky above. A crystalline spider's web ran along the lowest bough of the closest neighboring tree, it's tenant orb weaver busily mummifying a careless mosquito with strands of it's adhesive silk, fulfilling one of the countless biological and ecological purposes of the micro-habitat with hallowed care. Far beyond the reach of the sizable coniferous plants, a small flock of turkey vultures were playing joyously in the increasing bouts of storming gusts, seemingly oblivious to the watching form below as they continued to gain an altitude high from the rising thermals. The first of the boisterous thunderheads roared and boomed in the heavens after Zeus himself had hastily manifested into existence with each bright streak of lightning, and it wasn't long before the first barrage of cold precipitation poured across the luxuriant foliage with wild abandon. The icy torrents of rain summoned sprays of mist to race against each other in an attempt to conceal the endless acres of this coastal Shangri-la.

All the while, the mind, the body and the soul began to laugh in unabashed unison in the full presence of the saturating flurries, howling together like an ecstatic pack of timber wolves as the first hulking nimbus shot forth with locomotive speed from the encompassing atmosphere, laden with it's heavy cargo of endless rain. In the midst of the pouring showers, an odd and persistent series of absurd new concepts started to run rampant throughout the rejuvenated hippocampus, almost as if each silvery drop of water were powering the crevices from the unresponsive thinking process of the brain once characterized by such obsolete traits as memory, self-awareness, and authentic emotion.

These lost ideals and beliefs were completely different from what we as a whole have always been taught to address as "the norm" and the status quo. Different from the wretched familiarity of desolate urbanization and the unspeakable crimes conceived therein, different from the voracious gluttony of mindless consumption and the violent rape of worlds from which we obtain it, different from the dastardly turmoil of emotional shortcomings and all the countless evils which always follow. Different from this acrid taint which we have simultaneously called and worshiped by names and titles such as Society, Government, Law, Money, Religion, and most especially the sickening, egotistic monster we all worship by the name, Humanity.

To the addled mind, these living, breathing notions glowed like sparkling champagne gleans of tranquility, invoking a powerful illusion that could be easily deciphered in only the most inexplicable and impossible of means. This indescribable state of being wild, of being happy and free...it was purely antipodal in comparison to our so-called rational thought. This was something about it that didn't quite have a name, something with the purity of a Vestal Virgin, something with the power of a maternal nebula, something which tugged the being towards the earth as if the very essence of Gaea herself were calling forth to the wandering souls of her lost children.

This was the answer...but to what? What was the question?

Out of the eternal blue, as if answering to this baffling jumble of raw emotions and ideas now coursing through the complex network of awakening neurons, a haunting melody echoed from deep within the cavernous stretch of vivid greenery, singing with what must have been the most beautiful, angelic voice any living being, man or beast, would ever hear. Her musical, druidic song had the seductive lure of a benevolent siren, stirring some unknown and ancient energy from within the grand, mythical expanse of the silvicolous nirvana. The flora and fauna of the forest were becoming inebriated by her enchanting music, dancing frenziedly like drunken satyrs in the substantial downpour as if possessed by the magic often associated with the nature deity Pan. The reflective sheen of the rain appeared to enhanced the bright groves of exalted conifers at the sound of her swaying tones, giving the landscape the impression of a sacred shrine from some lost era of prehistory. With each resonating note, the heart pulsated heavily against the heaving rib cage in rapid, oxidized stanzas, beating in tune with the very frequency of her heavenly ballad.

She was, in a nutshell, an enchanting vocalist. She was not of this world...but perhaps...perhaps she was from somewhere better...from somewhere just beyond the reach of mortal man.

The head felt rather lofty upon the redwood's reassuring bole, spinning in unstable rainbow orbits as if stimulated by a unusually strong blotter of LSD, resting purposefully against the spongy bark and listening carefully to the intent of her mysterious chants. Intense, shimmering thoughts accelerated across the mind with the frantic vitality of kudzu vines, renewed surges of adrenaline flowing intermittently throughout the intricate pathways of intersecting neurons and veins, each hammering pulse flourishing avidly from a curious sense of crude vigor so overwhelming it stimulated the atrophied fabric of the sixth sense. The deep recesses of the captivated subconscious transpired into a perceptible awareness, waking at long last from it's desensitized siesta, breaking free from it's prison of repressed hysteria. It would've been nice to have just relaxed, to have been at peace, to have stayed with the angel and to have walked upon the clouds with her...

By the gods, this must of either been a powerful revelation, or this must of been some really good acid trip.

As her lucid melody reverberated through the countless groves of trees in a silky soothsayer hymn, she spoke prophecies in a vivid silver tongue of which no human language could possibly repeat, composing scores of whimsical lyrics written in one of the lost languages from the forgotten spirit realm. The incentive behind the subtle message attempted to flow into understanding like the pure waters of a crystal-clear fountain, and as astounding as it may seem, there was no need for any sort of universal translator or any other Star Trek deus ex machina. Her heavenly voice permeated through the confused entity of the soul like an anonymous desire, her lyrical echoes beckoning from within the molecular depths of the ageless labyrinth ahead. The dopamine floods had broken through the dam of conformity. The entire celestial structure of the being needed to attend the sacred audience of this most wise and elegant Muse of miracles beyond imagining.

She knew the answer.

God, if only I could see her Mona Lisa smile again, hear her wonderful, joyous laughter like she did back in those carefree days, far too long ago...perhaps He did listen to this ant's little prayer, chuckling sardonically, perhaps reminded of His entertaining little intervention with the life of Job.

With a shock that nearly strained the heart into cardiac arrest, her voice slowly but surely faded away into the merciless concealment of the deep evergreen forest as the false, almost pseudo sense of chronology sped up as if overtly caffeinated. The elderly sequoia whispered ominously from somewhere high above the shrouds of the dense storm, swaying ever skyward in the perfect imitation of the world tree Yggdrasil as it reached it's unseen branches into the majestic, condemned halls of Valhalla, perhaps even calling for the Valkyries to collect the fallen soul.

The unrelenting volleys of freezing rain drenched and soaked the very bones to their marrow cores, concealing the distant topography jealously, pattering with a constant background tempo of it's own to accompany her faint, mystifying music. The dense haze of the shrouding downpour was attempting to tune her out completely, acting as a possessive barrier between the lost lover and the beautiful key to salvation...or, perhaps the uncanny keeper was merely presenting a challenge, a trial, a Herculean labor in which her presence was destined to be the ultimate reward.

At that moment, there was no pain...only the receding of mental prohibition.

Without a second thought, without either the tangling roots of regret and uncertainty or the literal roots of the judicious redwood to hold back the yearning soul, the being stood defiantly and, without warning, charged towards the endless walls of merciless rain, dashing purposefully forward to the perilous challenges which await in the unknown. The muscles were thrust readily into action, straining furiously from the sudden jerk of instantaneous urgency, adapting as best as they possibly could for their vital task against the perilous winds and sleet. The eyes squinted prospectively into the persistent barrage of the cold and intimidating torrents, picking out the obscure boscage routes and the rampant waters of the winding tributary hidden from within the semi-transparent immensity of the storming fortress. Each cautious footstep waded in the mud with an almost felid silence, each passing moment spent focusing on the arduous trek before the figure into the ominous silhouettes of the boreal trees and dense undergrowth, voyaging ever deeper into the untamed terrain with many of the ancestral qualms shared by Bilbo Baggins and his party of dwarves. It really did feel like wandering through the perpetual darkness of ancient Mirkwood, come to think of it.

II

Somewhere deep within the unforeseen gloom, the faintest whisper of her voluptuous voice called out in soft, reverent psalms. The heart burned brighter with painful longing, filled with a unquenchable desire beating savagely with the escalating rhythm of a cracked-out conga drum, nearly shattering the ecstatic organ like a pane of ruby glass. Her voice held no pain yet grew ever fainter, receding further into the primordial backdrop like a distant ship's smoke fading out on the endless horizon. Onward the torturous adventure goes, down the metaphorical warren which must of inspired Alice's pursuit of the elusive White Rabbit.

The menacing walls of the verdure, labyrinthine chambers grew more heavily claustrophobic, closing in on the narrowing path with an almost benign malice. The rains inexplicably summoned forth multiple scores of intoxicated animals to forage aimlessly out in the open, the creatures ignoring their warm shelters and parading in their own wild frenzies as they were completely engulfed in the harmonious tones drifting in between the trees like a sweet smoke, almost as if they were possessed by the very elements of the swirling cosmos. The glass surface of the meandering stream grew into restless rapids, gorging itself like an aquatic boa constrictor upon the leagues of liquid from the moist weather. Subtle vibrations from the soft ground sent pulsing volts of mesmerized momentum climbing up the sensitive nerve endings of the feet, egging on the lumbering figure through the intimidating maze regardless of whether the body wanted to continue or not. Considering all that was happening, all that was beyond comprehension, one could guess that there isn't much of a choice in the matter but to continue forward, for this felt a lot like a runic path decided by the unrelenting will of destiny...risks, prize and all.

It...she...whatever this power really was, this would lead to the answer...whatever it may be...

The occasional crash of thunder augmented across the land with the full force of a sonic boom. The maenad shrieks of unseen raptors echoed in orgiastic triumph, perhaps singing their avian hearts out in their sacred war chants, presumably as they picked off some of the smaller prey too absorbed in their own insane frolics to notice or care. The violent winds shoved their way through the density of foliage, screaming with the voices of the damned and forgotten. The trees wavered portentously in the ripping currents, their branches cracking and tumbling from the great heights in a possible sign of forbidding. All the while, the pervasive showers poured on with heavy impetus, threatening to grow into a mindless deluge that could flood the world like in the Christian myth of Noah's ark or any other apocalyptic creation myth from the aboriginal and modern peoples of long ago.

There was a maelstrom about to hit...where was she? Will she be safe?

The juxtaposition of the gymnosperms inched ever closer until they formed a winding tunnel which enclosed the makeshift path, standing protectively along the borders on either side like vigilant green sentinels. The countless, jutting spires of rain were compressed and concentrated into random aerosol, straining from the trickling apexes of the thick canopy like old-fashioned lemonade, churning the soil into a tortuous quagmire which grasped at the feet with a ravenous hunger and devoured the breadcrumb trail of past footprints like a mere appetizer. The soggy grasses underfoot fused profoundly into the earth, churning up a nutrient-rich compost in a matter of minutes and seconds, making each potential step more and more likely to snag in the rotting clumps and open maws of the thriving fertilizer. The encompassing pall of the storm had all but erased every conceivable trace of light, adding excess pressure to the adjusting eyes to the point where observing the material plane had become nearly impossible once again...but the body had other ways to overcome this inconvenient disability.

Each rugged breath and mutter bounced off the structure of each hidden obstacle ahead, feeding the feeble optic nerve centers with a uniquely enhanced input of the surrounding area in striking quality. As the legs continued to soar like a bat flying through the solid depths of the midnight sky, the excavated sense of something almost resembling echolocation navigated the being flawlessly through the consistency of the Etch-A-Sketch world, the ears growing sharper until each electron particle of sound rippled upon the battlefield surface of the famished mind.

Somewhere in the midst of Nature's congregation her serenade cleaved through the compact walls of matter with gamma ray precision, coming through the darkness of the space-time continuum in shapeless waves, her unseen lips moving in soulful words which mortal man's ears couldn't hear, couldn't know what she was saying. Regardless of the human factor, the native inhabitants of the natural world were listening intensely to the different frequencies of her song, all of them heeding unquestionably to her unearthly tempo with their myriad longing, all of them fully keen to the primal substance of existence gushing forth from her most gorgeous and soulful hymn, and the universe that it represented...

It was the answer.

Her exquisite narrative led through the glittering, dark-hued catacombs of the cavernous forest, guiding the soul past secret trails engraved with cornucopias of shrubs and ferns, trails just scarcely lit by the dim Catseye glow of luminescent mushrooms, trails hidden by thick, serpentine coils of roving fog slithered about between the rich, endless plethora of shadows and darkness. The flickering motion of the river flowed heavily with increasing gallons into some uncharted section of the natural gauntlet, carving numerous capillaries at it weaved towards the presumably distant swamps of the west, trickling simultaneously to the omnipotent altruism of her musical composure. Somewhere in the storming vistas far above the drenched xyloid walls, a flashing murder of crows cawed in shrill, wily laughter, swooping above the treetops like glossy-black stones, flapping their ebony wings in a synchronized rhythm matching that of her enchanted ocarina voice.

She was there to remind that pain was nothing, but salvation...salvation was everything...

The trek was reaching for the wells of eternity, stretching for what felt like passing hours, lengthened days, transient years and cosmic aeons...time itself was completely irrelevant in the true concept of life, for Kronos was outdated in this realm and went instead by the name of Saturn. Twist begot turn, turn begot twist, yet the maze of this existence sprawled on forever into the coveted distance. Events followed each other in progressively hazy conga lines, ultimately decided by the obsolete mystic powers once attributed to the Ouija board and the dreamcatcher. No mere mortal hand nor eye could possibly comprehend the atomically dense fabric of this celestial tapestry, yet she alone knew the lost secrets and forgotten truths to multifaceted existence. She is one with the infinity of infinities, watching over the breach of this illustrious world and worlds beyond the cursed gates...

A graceful black-tailed doe emerged abruptly from the depths of a bordering cluster of rhododendron and sword ferns not three meters ahead, shattering the twisting trails of insane paradox as she galloped swiftly along the forest floor upon her lithe, spindly legs. Her large velvet eyes glowed like headlights along a dark highway as she carefully pried her way through the perpetual gloom of the eternal forest, her long, springboard ears pricking up in a constant mixed state of startled alertness and suspicious awareness. The thickets from which the deer soared so suddenly burst apart to reveal two young fawns with patches of miniature constellations dotting their coats, playfully mimicking the fluid strides of their mother, large eyes basking in the curious shades of their immediate surroundings. Together the family trio of ungulates raced confidently through the shadows with impossible speed and incredible accuracy, casting one final glance upon the woods (and the dumbfounded figure) before vanishing into the refuge of dense foliage on the opposite side of the path.

The heart inexplicably missed a few beats. It took a faded moment to realize that everything slightly throbbed in the faintest pitch black, and longer still before control was eventually restored to the heaving, transfixed body. Entire lifetimes had come and gone and been plotted by fate before the trembling legs finally resumed their accustomed motions through the primeval labyrinth of darkness, returning to this eternal quest to follow the lingering echoes of the angel's tantalizing voice as if she were singing an audiovisual form of Ariadne's enchanted ball of string.

As the sight of the fleeing deer family slowly faded away from living memory, her beautiful mantras slowly but surely resonating within the tunnels of grey matter once again, it was as if the emotional soup of consciousness had been seasoned with a temporary dash of implacable nostalgia. It was a strange feeling. There was no logical reason for feeling so impetuous about the sighting of such insignificant animals...and yet...yet perhaps her magical incantations will reveal the meaning of these furtive notions as well, like a modern-day equivalent of the Oracle of Delphi.

Perhaps, one day, our souls could finally be reunited...perhaps one day, we could have everything return to what it once was...to what it had been so very long ago...to that fateful day, before everything in life had changed forever...

Perhaps...perhaps...she knew...

There was absolutely no indication to how far into the endless depths of chaos the figure ran, for everything here was lost in the currents of that infamous black seas of infinity. The constant rain and waif-like animal noises of the increasingly nonexistent forest growled menacingly from the unforeseen distance like Lovecraftian monsters, threatening to convert the mind into madness. Every cell of the body's physical state cried angrily in exhausted protest as the dwindling stores of adrenaline were reduced to mere fragments of recycled, geriatric zeal. Every reliable perception of the human anatomy, both through the normal and supernatural sense, began to rapidly deteriorate into a dull state of listless obsolescence. Reality had lost all meaning long ago, and yet even the figments of the imagination were turning grotesquely sour, rotting away in this wretched hellhole of cold, empty space.

Had it not been for her angelic promise of a refuge from the ever-creeping darkness, the mind would've self-destructed into a sickly profusion of high-octane insanity. Without her, none of the following would've been even remotely possible, or would've otherwise taken an overwhelming place in the broken mind from within the lobotomized confines of an insane asylum.

Just beyond this endless night, the borders of a bright island of green sward blazed brightly in defiance to the threatening gloom, shining like a sacred blessing of the gods. It appeared to float in the emptiness of space with unmatched tranquility, peacefully oblivious to the consumed realms of nothingness, impervious to the lost yesterdays which fuel the infamous diet of the wretched Langoliers. With each closing step, the fears of the unknown almost diminished into something more bearable, a hazy flicker of hope sprouting like a phoenix from the ashes into the potential for a better future.

The ceaseless deluge had started to calm down into something like a relaxing drizzle, the thirsty body absorbing the liquid avidly with amphibian skin. The tempests stopped screaming with their elemental rage, whispering instead with the yearning robust breaths of gorgeous days gone by. The random animals of the ethereal darkness cooed and cawed in a decidedly melodious chorus, no longer threatening like a lingering spawn of Satan, but no less mysterious than before. Above it all, her lovely oratorio wafted in the gusts of a gentle breeze, guiding the essence of the lost soul to the purest source of her golden salvation.

She would lead to the answer. If only she weren't so far away...

As the pace grew faster and the internal yearning grew ever stronger, the ancient groove sharpened into a computer-generated focus unlike anything experienced in the material plane. The dark walls of gymnosperms had momentarily given way to a small, centralized hillock, it's circumference coated with patches of jade green grass and wildflowers which grew like polished jewelry. The knoll itself was endowed in a gown dress of slightly trampled greenery, as if this petite area had hosted as a playwright's stage for the ceremonious dance of dryads and nymphs. The crickets chirped away in a pulsing, rhythmic unison, while a grand variety of colorful songbirds darted and chirruped wildly together like a feathered orchestra. The faint canvas of the heavens beyond glowed like a mosaic painting in silver and grey, the overcast of nimbus clouds churning and gyrating into shapeless forms as unpredictable as the revered Moriae.

It was hard to say...she was so close...and yet, it...she...still felt so far away...still petrified in that same cruel distance, in the cold-heart relativity through time and space. It was like running in vain on an infinite treadmill towards some unattainable prize far beyond the concept of human desire. Her wondrous soul was the Eurydice to the mortal rambler's Orpheus, so ruthlessly taken away into the dismal underworld of the passing spirits by that cruel twist of fate. The stealthy seed of doubt could've taken it's vile root at any time, attempting to convince the hidden, parasitic dread within that this was all nothing more than an optical illusion of the most vindictive kind. It could've been...but, for the here and now at least, it didn't.

The determination to live life again, to be with her again, shall see to that.

The mind was growing restless, threatening to go completely frantic from the conflicting turmoil...for what reason, exactly, would always remain unknown to the rational, if rather questionable, ideals of mankind's fractured sanity. The light...must head towards the light...the answer...

As if the laws of physics had finally returned to the foundations of this bizarre world, that small, ecological shrine ahead was at last inching closer, glowing like the warm, inviting fire of a scented candle to a gullible moth. The budding profusion of colorful flora sprouted profoundly in the growing light, feeding off this nature temple's rich source of photosynthetic energy. The residents of the miniature aviary darted to and fro among the obscure branches, while small marble butterflies fluttered about freshly hatched from their protective chrysalises. An invincible, otherworldly power resonated throughout the land, whispering hints of the many lost secrets of existence. Her angel's hymn grew stronger still, resonating from some nameless origin in some nameless dimension, somewhere near the top of this very mound.

As far as the eye could see, no other being could be accounted for.

This sacred circle...the answer...it become more real with every stride. By the time the first weary step passed through the hallowed frontier, it was like entering into the rumored terrain of mythical legends. Every thinkable particle in the body burned like molten steel in the radiance of the pale light, every hint of nightmarish dusk evaporating from the soul as if inhaled by a quantum vacuum. At the flip of a coin, the sensation of sight altered from the darkest shade of black to the brightest hue of white and back again, temporarily blinding the retinas by the sudden change of earthly perception.

Again.

And just like that, all was abruptly as silent as the grave.

With a sudden realization of a gut-wrenching jerk, the mind was unexpectedly ravaged by the distress of the deathly quiet which surrounded the circumference of the little refuge. Only the faintest hum of her last druidic lyric still echoed faintly between the ringing eardrums, buzzing eerily as the haunting speck of inevitability lingered long after the final curtain was drawn to a close. No living thing here had dared speak out aloud in this empty lapse of reason, just as weary of the oddities of life as the poor fool...yet these woodland organisms seem to have an almost prophetic idea as to what it all means...possibly something which was related to their uncanny ability to detect natural disasters before the first hint of danger occurs to human consciousness.

Except, somehow, it wasn't danger they sensed. That was unanimously confirmed. Somehow, in some odd way, this fact was well recognized among these expressive souls guarding this otherworldly temple. Both the living, and the dead, and all of those in between.

And like many things in this long, strange journey of life, the sighting happened unexpectedly.

Just above the tallest treetops, a graceful, snow-white egret flew across the shrouded heavens with unmatched majesty. It's broad, porcelain wings carried the awesome bird along the turbulent drafts, while it's golden shaman eyes peered down into the darkness of the eternal forest from upon it's long, serpentine neck. Perhaps it was searching for signs of life in the vast extent of the evergreen blankets, far away from it's native home in the distant marshlands, yet the reason was still in the dark. The so-called "logical explanation" made by the vain had too many droll variables, ranging between ideas like abnormal migration, to global warming and climate change, or even something like pure, unadulterated coincidence...and yet...

Without really knowing it, the body, mind and soul had become completely immobilized by the very presence of such a majestic entity of nature. The entire metaphysical construct of the being witnessed as the great egret soared through the vivid blue like a hot knife through butter, basking peacefully in the dim glow of the residual sunlight leaking through the overhead clouds. There had been many of it's avian race before it in the world of man, yet, oddly enough, none of them had compared to the unparalleled splendor, dignity and benevolent power of the bird now flying proud and free in the consistency of the bright bubble above.

A guardian against the endless void, if you will.

In the flash of mere nanoseconds, the sacred emblem unexpectedly dived into the eternal depths of the green abyss. The peering gaze flickered into a full spasm as it searched in vain for the ashen messenger, searching frantically for the meaning behind the peripatetic avian. This was when the dizzying attention span was caught by the currents of the wind like a trout on a fishing line, fully distracted by the slightest ruffle in the distant meadow outside.

There was something...someone...dancing, just beyond the gaze of peripheral vision.

For one fleeting glimpse, out of the corner of the eye, the wild consciousness nearly convinced itself that the shadows had spawned the outline of a humanoid shape. She was an elegant, feminine figure born from the congregation of dawn and dusk, her hair drifting in the soft breeze just beyond the concealed border of lambent sunlight and perpetual shadow. The figure's gorgeous form shimmered in the thin rays of light and darkness, perfectly centered within a celestial Venn diagram containing the nexus of existence and the fabric of reality. She seemed to to be hovering inches above the humus-strewn ground like a siddha who had attained full enlightenment, her own clairvoyant gaze full with the transcendent secrets of the universe.

She knew the answer. She knew...she had always been the embodiment of Fate.

She was Clotho, for she had brought forth life. She was Lachesis, for she has made life shine with desire and purpose. She was Arthopos, for she will have made the gift of life worth living, to hell with the consequences which dared stand in the way. She stood stronger than a Stonehenge pillar in the center of the sacred Flower of Life, her head crowned by the complex, geometric Star Mother. She is both the Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the end. All of existence flows through her like the oxygenated blood in a mortal's pulsing veins, branching outward like the archive network of neurons in the brain, breathing freely like the lovely hymn of her sweet voice, glowing brightly like the crystal embers of her sharp eyes. She was a guardian angel from the infinity of infinities.

She was quite literally the deus ex machina. She knew the answer...

I turned to look, overcome with a rapture now finally freed from it's lonely jail, wondering, fearing, doubting, dreaming of this very moment to transpire. It has been far too long...it has been far too long since this moment in life had gone to pass...it has been far too long since the opportunity had arisen to create with her all the good times that were and tat are to come to come...it has been far too long. The cold air thickened into warm molasses, the mosaic ceased to move and breathe in mid drift, the very heart froze in throbbing anticipation on the verge of internal combustion. To be, or not to be, that was the question...and she knew the answer...

I turned to look...but she was gone.

She was gone.

Skeletons of glass shattered from the internal ruptures like a Russian matryoshka nesting doll collapsing upon itself. Shoals of crazy thoughts warped in the impossible twists and turns of a M.C. Escher sketch. The engine sputtered and refused to run again, wanting nothing more to do than scream maniacally in the pain and loss of it's vitality. The figure fell in utter distraught, almost kneeling upon his buckling knees as if in futile prayer. The figure had to actively keep from speaking the insane gibberish often associated with Christian tongues in the midst of this sudden heartbreak.

It was getting harder to breathe, harder to see, harder to think. What in the hell was going on?

Something was off...something vital was evidently missing. What in the hell was missing? There was something...I couldn't put my finger on it, now...

Without warning, something brushed almost tenderly against the right hand with the aid of another gentle breeze. The hand caught it by some impulsive, undefinable instinct, holding it gingerly between the shaking index and thumb. The eyes at last turned from their vacant strain to behold the soft object with blunt impatience, and realized, not without a mild shock, that it was a feather. The eyes continued to gawk at the strange apparition in confused wonder, with the honest dash of incredulity mixed in for good measure. This felt too much like a hackneyed scene from Forrest Gump or Inception to be anything readily believable...and yet, here it was. It's delicate quills ruffled liberally, almost like a real plume, in the cool breaths of the subtle wind. Who knows...the stunning, hoary feather might have traveled untold miles and leagues from who knows where, all just to drift into the vicinity of this very spot, at this very moment, for reasons which still remain unknown.

Was it a coincidence?

Was it a symbol of the lost worlds before and beyond? Were there spirits watching over this odd encounter, some entity which watched over all that has passed and all that is to come?

It was hard to tell...couldn't put my finger on it, now...why is that? What is this about?

Was it because the child had grown? Was it because...was it because the dream was done?

Had I become...comfortably numb?

Our eyes are the maps of the journey from which we came...

III

Without warning, everything ceased to exist.

It all happened too fast. One minute, the intense heat of the moment, the magnificent expanse of endless forests...the flickering light of the gyrating sky...the living creatures peeking through the depths of untamed wilderness...the unimaginably beautiful, feminine messiah, emanating the breathtaking presence greater than any marble goddess of classical Greek myth, meditating in the most holy of holy lands...everything was there, everything was so alive, so real. Life itself glowed brightly with purpose and soul and reason and...dare I say it...love.

In the next, without warning or even a single precaution, everything had suddenly melted away like molten beeswax. Everything was suddenly shrouded in the uniform dread of formless chaos. Everything was consumed greedily by the sickly gates of oblivion. Everything had just...evaporated, almost as if it were nothing more than a...oh, no...no, no goddammit, no...not again...no God, you m**********r, not again...

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Reviews

[Solilokiss]

Such a wonderful read. I look forward to reading this again, and then the others. Your heart shines through this story. I feel like you were deeply encased within this story which is the best a writer can be IMHO.