Читать книгу Beyond the Veil - C. N. Dudek - Страница 8

Nicholas followed Rigel down the hillside and through a lush, green valley. The river always near them. They followed it as though it was a road. They ascended as the river descended. They reached the foot of the mountain where a large pool of water lay.

Nicholas dove into the water. He expected cold mountain water, but it was warm and seemed heavier than water. As he swam through the pool, his spirits lifted, an energy thrilled through him. He had not experienced this kind of thing since he had first known there was more to the world than just plain matter. When he realized there were deeper, richer, numinous things in the world. That there was a being out there, yet closer than his own beating heart who loved every created thing. This joy, which he had not felt in years surged through him.

Nicholas burst through the surface of the water as though reborn. All he could do was smile. He could not articulate anything that he was feeling.

“Thrilling isn’t it?” Rigel said. “There is much, much more of this to be known, to be experienced. Your heart, mind, spirit, your very being will transform as you journey. Some of the journey will be glorious, some will be difficult, and some will be near impossible.”

“This water . . . or whatever it is . . . is seething with life. I feel refreshed. Like that of a cold wintry waste, where all is frozen, and by Jove, a sulfur spring is bubbling nearby. Its warmth from the depth of the earth thawing the rigid, hardened soul within. This is similar, yet much more. Oh God, have I been dulled and deadened. Lord, thaw my frozen heart,” Nicholas said.

“Come, this is only a quick energizing, there is more to do,” Rigel said.

Nicholas waded to the shore. He stepped out of the water and followed Rigel up the narrow steep trail that worked its way up the mountain.

When they reached the top of the mountainside, there was a plateau. It was pitch black except for the stars. Nicholas could see billions of stars, the Milky Way, and more than he could have ever dreamed. It was more magnificent than a dark night sky dome in Colorado without a light for hundreds of miles.

“A shooting star,” Nicholas shouted. He traced it across the sky. Off in the distance, a blinding white explosion razed his eyes. “What was that?”

“You must go and see. But you may not like what you see. It is blinding, beautiful, terrible, wondrous, filled with truth. It will tell you things you’ve always wanted to know; things you are ashamed of, things you must know, but wish not to,” Rigel said.

Nicholas’ hair stood on the back of his neck. He did not want to go out into the darkness alone. Yet he knew he must. “Will you come with me?”

Rigel shook his head. “No. But I will not be far behind. When you return, your burden will be lightened.”

Nicholas slowly shuffled away into the unknown. Rigel gave Nicholas a firm, but gentle push, which compelled Nicholas to slowly jog which turned into a dash toward the distant white glow ahead.

When he reached the spot where the object fell to the ground, Nicholas could not see much besides a blinding white. He felt compelled to speak, “Hello.”

What happened next is difficult to describe. All at once, Nicholas had millions of images of his life flash in his mind’s eye. A voice spoke one word for each image: birth, life, grief, death, lust, peace, sin, anger, hatred, dread, despair, depression, fear, covetous, pain, rebirth, thanksgiving, suffering, death, resurrection, longing, yearning, joy, faith, hope, love . . . Millions of images, millions of words. Yet all within seconds. When this ended, Nicholas was dizzy, his brain overwhelmed. He had to lie down. Then a voice spoke, powerful, awful, but it was something good (which Nicholas sensed):

“You have lied with the great deceiver. Fear, despair, pain, suffering has crowded your psyche. You have fallen upon swords of defeat. You lie close to the life-giving water, but you cannot see it or hear it babbling just over the hill. Much of you lay dormant, waiting. Fear paralyzing you. He wishes you to be set free. Your chains are heavy. His yoke is light. The King speaks peace, joy, life. He delights in you. You are the work of his hands. He is peace, joy, love, life.”

Nicholas trembled as a child before a great beast, his words feeble and weak, “Are you this King Rigel speaks of?”

“No, I am but a servant.”

“A great servant. You must be the one who sits at his right side—” Nicholas was cut short.

“Silence. Only one sits at his right side. You speak near blasphemy . . . Forgive me, I have frightened you. I forget you still exist in weakness—your body has not been transformed. His message is: be set free, be transformed. I have been sent to burn away the flax, if you will. To rid you of some of the dross. You must speak, telling me all of your faults, then you will be cleansed, your lips, tongue, and hands purified.”

Nicholas turned red. Heat and blood rising to his head. “I have not told anyone any of the things I have done wrong, not since childhood when I went to confession. I only tell my faults to God . . . maybe my wife.”

The white light sighed . . . or what sounded like sighing. Nicholas did not know if this creature breathed at all. “I am the light of the evenstar. I am that which shines by day and by night. I hold all the words ever spoken. When spoken they are put to action or they are discarded never to be known by the King because he is ever merciful. Once these sins, these faults are voiced, they are put into the vessel of Lethe (of forgetfulness), the King pardons the one confessing. The confessor’s burden lightened. The confessor is set free.”

“Rigel did tell me I would not like what was to happen here. But you and he have told me this weight upon my heart would be lessened. I trust you. I know I do. The numinous is to be feared and respected. I will do as you tell me,” Nicholas said.

Nicholas told the white light, or Evenstar, every sin he had committed since childhood—all he could remember. As he spoke, Nicholas felt different. The beginning of his unburdening. He told of his relationship with his wife—how it had gone sour. A lot because of him and his attitude, the way he saw his wife. His covetousness toward other women. Many things were spoken. As he spoke, his words manifested as bluish vapors coming from his mouth. Nicholas could see, faintly, a crystal flask and his words, now vapors, were collected within.

When Nicholas finished speaking, the flask was thrust to the ground; shattering into fragmented, refracted light, like diamonds bursting.

“Now come closer,” Evenstar said.

Nicholas walked closer. He felt something firmly, yet gently grab his chin and pulled him forward. “From henceforth, your lips are cleansed, tongue purified, sins forgotten and forgiven in the name of the King.”

At that, a bright yellow orb touched his lips. He was blinded by the intruding light and winced at the intense heat of the orb. His lips and tongue burned almost to the point of the sense of freezing temperatures. Nicholas shouted the intensity was so great. Yet, immediately, the sensation ceased, the orb gone, the white light gone—Evenstar gone.

Nicholas fell to his knees and wept. He was not in pain. In fact, all was well. He was filled with joy once again. “I am undone. I am a broken man.”