Answers From Below/Forever Never


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FOREVER NEVER/THE DAWN OF ILLUSION

by Cheryl Pennington

copyright photos and words

2015

The brave Horsemen of Jinetes have been waiting for the arrival of the Warrior and Hunter. Now their guide will initiate Eolas into the mystical realm of their history.  As they descend to the dark cavern where The Word lies waiting, Eolas wonders what he will find and if any answers truly exist or are there simply more questions looming ahead?

Advisory: This is a long chapter.  I could have chopped it in half but it would have left any readers truly hanging and I wouldn’t do that to you, Peter. 😉  I hope any who reads will enjoy this piece and leave me a message with your thoughts, ideas or inspirations.  Love and Light, Cheryl

Answers In the Depths

Guia led Eolas through the village to the far end, stopping in front of a large building. It bore a low, flat roof and had not a single window in the whole of it.  ‘This place is more than a home,’ thought the Hunter.  Indeed it was more than simply a place to sleep. Standing lower to the ground than the others with no steps leading to the large singular door which obviously was designed for  it, there was a sense of strange energy around the structure. The wood of the door was very smooth, but the designs  painted on it had been made using a gritty-looking substance. As Eolas reached a tentative hand to touch it, Guia began the story of his tribe’s birth into the world.

“We awoke from eternal sleep lying on beds of grass and mud and remembered nothing of how we came to be. We could recall knowing Light brighter than that which warmed our skins and we knew there was purpose in our birth; but none among us could recall the face of our Creator. As we stood upon our newly formed legs and adjusted our damp eyes to the new light above us, we saw a glorious creature sitting  on that large rock..” He pointed in the direction of the low hills that came right up to the back of the building.  Beyond them lay the boundaries of the village where a craggy outcropping of rock jutted out across the  rolling hills.  “The creature  was enormous and was not like us. It was the largest bird any of us has ever known to this moment.” He shrugged and smiled a little. “It was a terror in that moment for we knew no animals yet, only one another by sight, you understand.  Now we know so many creatures, large and small.  So many flying things, crawlers and those that watch in the night…” Guia’s voice trailed for a moment, but quickly snapped back to his tale.  “We watched this mighty bird with its featherless head and sloping beak, spreading its  wings and watching us rising to brush the dust from our skin.  We knew in that moment it must certainly be the form of our Creator. So, we fell to our knees before the creature, our faces to the blinding light, and watched as it spread its wings to the skies and moved in slow circles,ever clinging to that rock.” Guia spread his arms and began to turn slowly, bringing the image to life.  “The turning of its body caused the winds to blow, chasing the clouds of confusion from our minds. Then it spoke to us, calling each soul by name, but each of us heard only that name which was his own.” He stood still once more and continued.  “The Spirit bird told us Its name was Mor and whispered that we had been created to help this World, to join others in their quest to continue life brought forth in Light. We were told that the passing cycles would bring the first Walkers of this world to share with us the gifts of fertility and companionship, so that we might increase our tribe.  The Spirit Bird said that soon our strength may be needed to save the Mother of Domhan. Is she very beautiful?” Guia looked expectantly to the Hunter. Eolas said nothing, but nodded quietly. The Horseman went on as Eolas leaned against the door, completely captivated by Guia’s words.

“This was a lot to take in to our understanding so soon after our birth, but we drank in the Creator’s words.  We felt the call from within to eat and began the search for that which grew to sustain us.   We found our voices and talked among ourselves about how we would keep Mor’s word safe so that none would ever forget.”

“But what about the Bird? Where did it go?” The Hunter was curious.

Guia reached up and placed his hand on the door with the image of the Great Vulture staring down at them. He, too, ran his fingers across the bumpy surface. “It was swallowed by the blinding Light of Endlessness.  This was the first dwelling we made. It is bosom to the Sacred Word so that all may find comfort in it. All who need reminding of their purpose come here to be with the Word.”

Eolas was amazed at the likeness of the Vulture, the detail that had been accomplished with the materials that must be used for such a thing.

“We used the clay of the ground near the hills and mixed it with the juice of the fruits and leaves. This door was the first thing we made. It was our sole purpose for so long.  First, we had to make tools to work with, and until its completion we kept watch over the Word, every soul taking his turn.”

Eolas was as amazed with this story as he had been with the tale told by the females in Espera; and the similarity of their history did not escape his notice. But what was this new pattern that seemed to be unfolding? Had humankind become so deaf and blind to Spirit Essence that the Creators had to resort to communication only through detached workings? Would this now affect his own ability to communicate with his Creators? Before he could verbalize any of these questions, Guia pushed the heavy door open. The wooden hinges halted in quiet protest at first, but gentle pressure won out and they passed through the narrow opening that was made as the door stood half-open against the arrogant light of afternoon. Inside was black as night even while the sun shone brightly beyond the walls.  When his eyes adjusted, Eolas could see a few slivers of that same sun slicing through neglected cracks in the supporting poles where the mud filling had either been overlooked or crumbled away. The filtered light hit the floor, giving a dull illumination that helped them see where they were going. Eolas was adjusting to the dingy light when Guia moved across the large, empty room.  There was a labored grunt from his throat followed by a heavy thud. Then a ribbon of brilliant light flashed across the center of the room, revealing a narrow opening at its source. There was a window after all!

Peering through the dim light Eolas could just make out the lines of a long table standing against the wall. It was very low with several bowls sitting on top of it; and in the center was a cloth covered object. He walked over to it and gently lifted the edge of the rough cloth. It was a wooden box!  Feeling a bit like an intruder the Hunter succumbed to his curiosity and opened the lid, revealing the unremarkable contents. There within were the usual herbs and grasses as used for ceremony, so he closed the lid and allowed the cloth to fall across it once again.  His eyes were seeing more clearly in the hazy light and now fell to the table.  On either side of the box were rather large holes carved deeply into the surface.

“What are these holes for, my friend?” Eolas asked. Without speaking, Guia strode over to a far corner of the room, where Eolas could see dark shapes lying in its shadows. The Horseman stooped to pick something up and returned to the table carrying a pair of wooden clubs with blackened ends. He handed one to Eolas, then took the other, placing the narrowest end inside one of the holes, and pushed it down, securing it in place. He took the other from the Hunter and secured it in the remaining hole.  Guia explained, “We set these afire when we need to commune and be with the Word.  Let me take you to the Sacred Word.” Eolas was taken aback momentarily, for it had not occurred to him or his companions to use fire inside of any dwelling; and he wondered how they managed to keep the clubs lit. There would be no asking in that moment as Guia touched his arm and motioned for Eolas to follow him.

He led the Hunter to the center of the room where Guia stooped to lift a grass mat lying there.  There was an opening in the floor! Kneeling next to it, Eolas could make out that within the space, just below the hole, was solid rock. Before he could question the wisdom of a floor beneath a floor, Guia knelt beside the hole, slipping his fingers into the cracks that defined the edge of the stone-edges that Eolas now realized were the sides of a cover!  Guia grasped  the cover and began to lift it. How clever are these Horsemen, he thought.  Grasping the remaining sides, he helped his new friend lift the heavy slab of rock, realizing the full weight of it.   They carefully laid it aside and peered  into the darkness below, a darkness which seemed to Eolas an endless void from where they knelt. Instantly the Hunter surmised that the opening was large enough for a body to fit through.  Guia crossed the room again and returned, holding in his hands the end of a braided vine. Through the shadows Eolas could make out that it was attached to the wall, cut clean through to the outside and knotted there so as not to slip. There were splinters of light like tiny stars around the opening.  Guia dropped the vine over the edge of the opening into the black and slid down its length, disappearing into the  hole and out of sight.
Eolas waited. Was he to follow? And to what below? He waited in the silence for what seemed endless moments and was on the verge of calling out when the Horseman’s voice rang out, “Aren’t’ you coming?” Feeling a bit embarrassed for hesitating, Eolas quickly mimicked the other’s descent, having faith that there was no danger in following blindly. Holding the vine as Guia had, he supported his weight against the rock sides as he lowered himself into the hole. All too soon he realized the wall ended just below the opening as his long legs dangled below him into utter nothingness.  A moment of terror passed across his soul as he hung there in complete darkness, not knowing how far he would drop and what was beneath him. After all, they walked always in Light or beneath the starry skies of night.  He decided to loosen his grip on the vine and ease his way down when the Horseman grabbed it and shouted, “Let go!”  With no time to think, Eolas did as he was told. It was a short drop to where his feet smacked the hard rock, and he felt overwhelmingly foolish to have been wary. Guia never noticed his embarrassment, or if he did, he never acknowledged it. He simply turned to lead the way onward. Looking up at the ceiling of the cavern, Eolas could see that its height was about that of his own and another atop his shoulders, and he was relieved to note that the vine hanging through the opening trailed across the floor where he landed. It was not as dark within the cavern as the hole itself, and soon he understood why.
As he turned to follow the Horseman, he saw that all along the wall, at intervals, they had used the same wooden clubs as those on the table, only they placed them within holes of the rocky wall at evenly spaced intervals.  His eyes grew wide at the sight of these wooden clubs burning with firelight!  ‘How do they accomplish this?,’ he wondered. The clubs were not blazing and appeared to burn slowly. Still the light was strong enough to see the path ahead.  As he passed each torch he tried to get a closer look. They appeared to be charred as used firewood; and there was a familiar pungent smell in the smoke they gave off.
Eolas followed Guia down a long, narrow cave where the top and sides seemed to close in on them as they went along.  Soon he realized the path was sloping and they were going downward as much as forward. Breathing became  more labored, and Eolas thought he might ask how far they had to walk.  Just as the words were about to pass his through lips, Guia ducked his head, stepping out of sight into complete darkness ahead. A few steps closer revealed whey he had done so and Eolas did the same.  It was a corridor with a very low opening, causing him to stoop to clear it.  As he ducked under the rocky archway and emerged on the other side, the Hunter was not in the least prepared for what was waiting there.

Eolas calculated within his mind that they must have walked as far as the edge of the hills underground and this cavern must lie just beneath those hills. Not only could they stand to full height in the cavern, but a quick glance told Eolas that this was the largest cave he had ever seen. There were caves in his homeland, but he had not ventured far inside of the mountain because all he ever needed was to be found outward, beyond the cave and in the Light. The room they were in was larger than the whole of the village of Jinetes. It stretched high above their heads, and the light from more burning clubs revealed pointed rock structures that appeared to be hanging from the space above them. As the light danced over the surface of these structures they seemed to collect it, causing them to glow with many colors.

Guia saw the wonder ion his new friend’s face and smiled.”Yes, it is truly a miracle in the earth.”

Eolas realized he had been standing there with his mouth agape and his hands spread out in awe. Guia reached up and took one of the burning clubs from its notch and held it up to shed more light on the gray walls of the cave.

Awe could not sufficiently describe what came over the Hunter as the flickering firelight illuminated the living history of Jinetes.  Eolas could see drawings across the face of the cave. These drawings were much like the ones scrawled on the cloth scrolls of La Palabra.  They showed the Creators drawing from the earth of Domhan, this time to form the male bodies of Jinetes. Different in this story,  however, was the position of the red eyed God who walked on all fours.  He stood not in the background, lying in wait,  but instead worked alongside the Creators.  Still, the watchful Eye of Mac was turned keenly upon him as he added his touch to their Creations. Slowly the Hunter and Horseman moved along the wall, the light from the burning club dancing eerily across the drawings, making it all seem to move before Eolas’ eyes. Was it the flickering causing him to feel unbalanced?  He felt suddenly dizzy and there was a tingling in his arms, hands and legs. He closed his eyes to try and regain his composure, but when he opened them again, it seemed as if he were walking through a fog.

All around and before the Hunter was a thick mist. Using his hands to spread the vapors, he strained to gain a clearer view and stepped forward cautiously.  ‘Where is Guia?’  The vapors slowly receded, allowing him to see more clearly; but there was no Guia there.  Eolas gasped!   Now standing before him were the same figures that were just before hanging on the wall, seeming as living beings close enough for him to reach out and touch! It was as if he were beside them, yet he felt far removed at the same time. From somewhere deep inside, the voice of his Father spoke to him.

“Eolas, this gift is shared so that you might fully understand our efforts in Creation and help the Jinetes to accept and fulfill their purpose within life on Domhan.”

There was silence.  The Hunter’s pulse raced alongside his rapidly beating heart.

“Do you understand this vision, Son of Mac?”

Eolas nodded silently, realizing the last question had come from the brilliant winged creature now standing physically before him, that glorious representation of his father, Mac.  It gleamed against the stone walls, its colorful plumed crest fluttering in an invisible breeze. Next to Mac stood the snow white dove he had come to know as Mother Inion.  Bandia, the great Horned Owl was on the other side of Inion. A guttural snarl alerted him to the presence of Ar’tine and he stepped forward instinctively with his fists clenched in a Warrior’s stance. He thought he heard a soft laugh, but Mac began to speak and it took all of his focus to understand his Father’s words. The Hunter realized with great reverence that he was now seeing the actual birth of the tribe of Jinetes.  Mac continued speaking, although it was no longer the Hunter to whom he directed his thoughts.

“Horsemen of Jinetes, you are being brought forth within this land to help fill Mother Inion’s world with life and Light, to live and breath the air of her magnificent Creation.”
The plumed wonder glanced at Eolas. Its meaning was clear. ‘Listen well‘.

Mac continued speaking to the newly awakening Jinetes. “You are called from the Light to help protect the First Family, they who live within the heart of Domhan-in the land known as Foirfeachta.  You may be called to rise to their protection in a turn of darkness.”  As it spoke, the  colorful plumed form of Mac looked down at the four legged incarnation of Ar’tine.  The dark beast appeared to be uninterested in the proceedings as it groomed its matted fur with one paw.

Eolas could hear his Father’s thoughts in that moment as well as his words. ‘It is well, my pitiful Mac Eile . Self-absorption suites you this day.‘ His voice was tinged with pain and bitterness, but quickly he turned his attention once more to the newly awakened humans of his Twin’s world. “We leave you with the Word.  If you keep this Word, you will know how to make tools for  survival, as well as instruments for the hunt.”

(Wisely, Mac avoided the use of the word weapon, again a trick that did not pass Eolas’s attention. Surely it was due to the presence of Ar’tine. Such a prospect would draw him from his state of distractedness)

“These things are but a beginning to start you in your life within this world. You will find your own discoveries as the cycles change and suns rise and set on your life.  There will be others who will join you soon.”

Mac looked down at the sea of newly created faces,  blinking innocence before the Light of Eternity that shone from the eyes of their Creators.  His Essence was complete in that moment; but he knew that they would soon forget his face, even in such a magnificent form. “We leave with you the vision of how you came to be so that you will understand your birth and remember your Creators. We are always with you, even when you cannot see us. Look to the skies for these forms you see before you now. We shall always be among you and will always answer when you come to us for help. Love is Eternal and has no beginning or end. What came from the earth shall return to the earth at the end of your physical life; but that which came from Spirit knows no end.”

Eolas listened as the Creators explained the gifts each would possess to add to the abundance of their lives. They foretold of the Great Joining when the Light Ones would arrive to initiate their union with the tribe of Espera.  All tribes across Domhan would be moving toward a moment that called for kinship  Eolas strained his mind to attention, lest he miss or forget any part of the miracle unfolding before him in that cavern of mystery.

It seemed so long that he watched the Creators bringing forth the strange four-legged creatures from the dirt to stand high above the ground, strong enough for work yet gentle enough to be tamed for riding and training.  At last, when all was given and received by Creator and Created, the circle of Eternal Beings faded as the figure of Mor, in the form of the mighty Vulture, stepped forward bathed in a blinding light that human eyes could not gaze upon. The cave was ablaze with it.  Eolas had to turn his eyes from the vision. When the Vulture spoke, no other sound could be heard, Its voice resonating across every thread of existence.
“Children of Eternity, newly formed from the substance of your world.  You, the Jinetes, will be a magnificent race upon the face of Domhan. In all workings be in meditation and prayer, for soon you may forget the sound of our voices.  It must be your heart and your mind which eases your sorrow over this loss. I am always with you.  I come to you in this form so that when you see it flying high above your world, you will remember my promise.  But I am in all things, all beings, alive within the all that is. There is no separation from my Essence. This illusion  exists only in your mind.  When you are forgetful or fearful, come to the Word and it will remind you of this, your moment of creation and of our promise to you to that you never walk alone.”
Then the vision, the Father of all Creation, turned and looked plainly at Eolas. The Hunter would later say he didn’t know how he was able to look into the eyes of Eternity without losing his sight, but he did. In that instant he saw all that would unfold within his own illusion, all too soon. As he took in this awful burden and gift, his heart skipped several beats, causing him to falter. He heard the voice of Mor trailing as the vision faded into the blackness, lit only by filtered light.

He heard the voice again. Was it Mor come back?  No, it was only the voice of Guia asking the trembling Hunter if he was alright. “My friend…you stumble, you do not look so well.”

Eolas opened his mouth to speak, but quickly realized that this had been his vision alone.  It was seen in an instant, even while his guide continued to relate the story of Jinetes as it was written on the walls of the cave. Regaining his composure, Eolas cleared his throat and nodded. Yes, just fine, he smiled and gestured to Guia to continue the tale. Thusly they walked the full circle of that great room with all of its stories, plans and instruction. Eolas smiled wistfully when he saw the likenesses of their little band of Eternal hope. There was his colorful headdress, Naofa’s long flowing hair and her transformation into the beautiful white Tiger.  The First Family walked in the Garden-the images of M’na, her loving Fireann and precious Amhain, bathed in Light, smiles on each face.  As Eolas inspected the images more closely, he could see M’na’s obviously round belly as she bent over a fire. He looked questioningly at Guia.

“This part is new..”  the Horseman began.
“Wait.. Don’t tell me,” said Eolas, holding his hand up to stop him. “The drawings change, even as you return again and again?” Guia nodded, but this fact didn’t seem to unsettle him nearly so much as it did Eolas. When they reached the depiction of Laoch he understood how so many had volunteered to be his companions in battle if the need arose. The warrior staring back at him from the wall was mighty indeed.  His form was as tall as he was broad, and  his eyes were large and bright.  In one hand he held his bow and arrows high above his head, his mouth gaping open in a cry of victory. The blood red eyes upon his chest glared out in the glow of Eolas’ torch, as red and bright as the moon they had seen just last night. He couldn’t help feeling amused at this sight, knowing his friend’s false sense of minority in the grand scheme of things.  Then his eyes followed the form of his friend’s body, top to bottom.  When he reached the legs of the drawing, what he saw hit him like a blow to his chest. One of the Warrior’s legs was triumphantly poised  on the limp form of a very dead black wolf.   A thick, red line of blood flowed from the place where its head would have been. Once more Eolas followed the lines of the image up the Warrior’s form to his other hand. He gaped.  There, with a broad but empty grin across its blood matted face, was the head of the wolf. Laoch held it high above his head in a victory pose.
Guia reached up to touch the image and drew his hand back quickly, as if somehow the beast might rise from its rocky death to chew off his fingers. He became very serious, turning to the Hunter with grave concern on his face and in his humorless tone. “What we wish to know, Eolas of Light, is whether these are things which have happened, or are they prophecies of things to come?”
Now Eolas was at a true loss, for he was not certain himself if there was even a difference. Suddenly his mind went wild with apprehension, his eyes scouring the wall for a sign of Eagna.  At first he was discouraged in finding nothing. Terror gripped his heart and his knees wanted to buckle.  ‘Keep looking,’ he told himself as his eyes flew across the rocky landscape of all his hopes. Then he saw it.

There, in his meadow below the hills stood their home; and beside it stood the familiarly lovely figure of Eagna. His Eagna, with her long hair and woven basket for gathering wild grasses. She had a hand resting on her own rounded belly.  A tremendous sense of peace washed over him.  Then he noticed while her left hand lay protectively over their unborn child, the other pointed upward, towards the night sky, fully dotted with stars. He followed the path of her finger and could see, faintly in the distance, something very large facing their homeland.  Something with wings.  Something with fire pouring forth from its gaping jaws; and directly below this terrible form he could make out the image of a deep forest. A lush forest. The Garden. There the images ended. In the name of the realm, what does it mean? The Hunter’s heart threatened to burst from his chest as his soul sank into fear.

Guia’s voice roused him. “We come every day to look for changes. This is how we knew you were nearing the village.” He pointed to the winged creature and stared at the newest addution to the mural of their unfolding life. “Is this our future? Is this why we have come to be here?”

Eolas honestly didn’t know the answer to Guia’s question, nor to any of the dozens that filled his own mind. What he did know was that all of Creation was a gift.  Remembering the promise of his Creators,  he reached for that comfort and stated his truth as he understood it in the moment. “You were brought here to enjoy existence and add to the life of Domhan. What your role will be in the cycles ahead remains to be known.” He looked Guia in the eye in all seriousness.  “By any of us.”

Eolas fell silent again as he sought to remember all he had seen and heard. As they turned to leave the dark cavern, the Hunter’s foot slipped and he slid into an unknown pool of wetness, his own torch flying from his hand to slide against the stone wall. Guia held his torch out so that his new friend could see the entirety of the great room they were standing in. What he saw then was that while they had been concentrating on the messages speaking from the walls, Eolas missed entirely the huge pool of water that covered the floor of the cave, nearly to the walls.

Eolas pulled himself to his knees and checked his leg for cuts.  Guia explained. “When we come for rejuvenation of our souls, we often bathe in the water. When we make drink for ceremony, we dip from this place. It is holy.”

Eolas was embarrassed that he slipped his dirty foot into such holy water,  but Guia was quick to assure him. “Do not worry. Now you have a Holy foot. He-he.”  His eyes twinkled in the glow of the torch.  They both laughed as the intensity of the vision and unanswered questions faded. Carefully they made their way down the narrow corridor and back to the opening where they climbed the vine  up into the Sacred room. Together they eased the stone covering back over the blackness and replaced the mat.  Suddenly Eolas felt very tired. And hungry. Guia must have been feeling the same for he suggested they rejoin the others for food and drink before preparing for the ceremony.

As they walked to the door, Eolas looked around the room again, trying to save the images he saw in the dusty light that was its only illumination.  Now that his eyes were adjusted to the light, he saw something standing in the shadows of a far corner of the room. He walked to where the dark form stood to get a closer look. There, leaning against the wall, was a round clay container, similar to the one La Palabra kept hidden under her floor. Guia was instantly beside him, reaching down and dragging the container carefully forward.  After removing the top, he reached inside and pulled out a rolled scroll, again similar to the one he had already seen.  They took the roll of soft cloth to the table and gently laid it there where Guia began to unroll it. This scroll was not so long as that of La Palabra’s but was certainly made for much work. Eolas was mentally prepared to see similar images as he had experienced on La Palabra’s scroll, or at least something similar to what he saw in the cavern below their feet. How shocked he was at what he saw instead. The scroll was blank!  There was not a mark yet on its delicate surface. He turned to Guia with understandable confusion but the Huntsman returned his gaze with patient wisdom.

“We were told to prepare a scroll for the Timekeeper and to store it safely until the moment when it would know its purpose. We hoped you would be able to tell us what to do with it.”

By the Eternal Beings who had Created him, Eolas had no idea what it meant.  For awhile he had been devising a form of written word, mere scratches in the earth, but it was not nearly complete to the point of sharing or teaching to entire villages of humans.  “I am sorry, my friend, for I do not have the answer you hoped for. But our Creators will reveal all when it is necessary. Of this, I am certain. Until then, we will keep it right here.” Eolas touched the jar.  Guia nodded and together they gently rolled the scroll so that it fit perfectly within its clay womb, waiting for the birth of recording that would sweep across its face. When this was done, they stepped back through the doorway and into the lateness of the cycle.
Eolas looked up at the rolling clouds and thought it would be good to have water from the heavens.  He had no idea that the vision he experienced beneath the surface of Jinetes had been playing out similarly in another land, one way beyond his home and precious Eagna. Even as he gazed at the setting sun Naofa, Rith and Carraig were nearing the land of cave dwellings….
to be continued……..
Thank you for reading…
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8 thoughts on “Answers From Below/Forever Never

  1. That’s some deep history. To witness creation in progress. I am fascinated by how those paintings were adding themselves on the wall. Even of M’na attending a fire, which is happening in the present.

    I noticed that when Mac tells the Jinetes “You may be called to rise to their protection in a turn of darkness” Ar’tine was there. So far he is the enemy of the establishment, and how could he be there when Mac is preparing the Jenetes men against HIM? Also, about the warriors that Laoch is to lead to battle, against whom will they fight? Ar’tine has only that embryonic thing in the cave–not an army–and he is subtle, preferring to creep around as he did on M’na in the garden. He is not publicly violent. He schemes. So who are these warriors going to fight?

    That black wolf whose bloody head Laoch raised high in victory pose it reminds me of the ones that almost attacked Naofa when she was with Laoch. Also the ones Ella was fighting against. Now I’m thinking Ar’tine’s army may just be wolves. But why is Eolas shocked to see it? He knows Laoch is to lead the Jinetes men to battle against the dark one.

    Anyway, keep telling the story.

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    1. Remember Peter, you are able to understand much more than they who have experienced no true darkness in their lives. Battling a force of nature like a hungry wolf involves no emotion other than the will to survive. Manipulation has only just begun to rouse itself within darkness itself…

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      1. You know, I love the way you don’t make those creators all holy and perfect and blameless. The reader can see it. I try to read this story with an open mind, without a preconception of any kind, so that I can understand this world of Domhan and the possibility of a different kind for humanity. Otherwise there is a tendency to judge and misunderstand based on religious ideas instilled in me from childhood. So that when I think of Mac, I see a god, then instinctively, I expect him to be perfect, meaningful, mysterious, etc. I try not to think like this when I read Forever Never.

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      2. And I appreciate that effort on your part Peter. As I have said before, my feeling is that man has created God(s) in his own image, both physically and emotionally, rather than the other way around. These perceptions are based on his own understanding of his own flawed nature and his need to feel understood, judged and then saved from that judgment.

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      3. “Man created God in his own image”. Nice. Like when the Israelite’s God sent them to beat up other people out of their land when he could have alternatively settled them elsewhere. He had enough powers to make any land fertile. He could cause droughts and famine those days, so why not turn a desert or anywhere else into a fertile land and give it to them instead of paving way for such a violent history that we can’t yet shake off? Even the Tower of the Babel story–what kind of an all-powerful, all-knowing God solves problems in such a manner, threatened by human unity and effort? The Tower of the Babel is a story of what humans could achieve when united in spirit and strength.
        But then I tell myself, maybe the meaning was lost in translation. Maybe they meant to say a different thing. I feel that there is something much more, that the writers of the bible knew that we don’t know. Something they disguised in stories to appeal to the laymen. I just haven’t grasped it yet–maybe I’ll never.

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      4. It is difficult to discern where the miscommunication occurred Peter. Either between Spirit and the authors and/or those who have translated our Bibke from the original language.perhaps both. The thing I don’t accept is that God would cease to communicate with us, leaving all instruction up to those who designate themselves worthy of delivering the Word to everyone else. Then again, so many give thier own power away to be slave to someone else spiritually. It seems easier I suppose…

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      5. It is easier. Takes away the responsibility of finding out for oneself. I know some Christians around here: anything you ask them about the Bible they do not know. Anything. They just cling to the pastor’s word without which they have no content at all. When I was in the university, if the lecturer did not teach a particular topic–even if it was an extremely important one in the coursework–no one would read it. You could ask around in vain until you started to go mad. If you didn’t do it yourself, you’d never know. Almost all the students just clung to what the lecturer said, even if he was evidently wrong. I used to think of them as “He-said people”, because if you asked them anything they would start with “But he said that . . .”
        I think it’s the same mentality that has ruined other institutions as well, religion or otherwise. Putting all the responsibility on the other person. Like the lady you told me about.

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