The Sweetsong of the Ladydove - Part VI

Chapter 7
We returned in the morning, and joined up with our crew. Teerliaka was brimming over with news, with stories, and with all the unique things that happened during our trip. She sang the tune of the ladydove’s sweet song as often as people would hear or request it. She told them about stars and planets, and my dream about her and the ladydove. She even told about “our castle we built.” It was hard for her to settle down to work.

But settle down she finally did, and in another two days, sufficient writing materials were made and stored, so that class could now begin:

I helped the rest of the crew to formulate the vowels by drawing lips that would talk them out. The class members helped me to determine the shapes, and they went like this: The O sound was simply rounded lips; therefore it became a circle. The Ei sound put the lips smiling, so we made a half-circle, opened at the top. The Ah sound was the inversion of the Ei, because it could be construed to look like a frown. The Eh sound thrust the jaw forward, so I drew a vertical line representing the top lip, a short horizontal line, and then another vertical line representing the bottom lip. It looked like a crank handle on its end. The Ee caused a tighter smile, so it became a thin crescent shape on its back. The Oo was like the Oh, but with the lips pursed, so we made an O with a dot in the middle of it.

I couldn’t help but look often at Teerliaka. Of course, being the perfect pupil, her eyes were always on me, secretive, smiling, and squinty, in a dreamy way.

In the evenings, we spent time together, talking, laughing and discussing the future.
In class, the next thing we did was find as many consonants as we thought existed in our language, and made symbols for them. For example, the T sound was caused by the tongue touching the gums just above and behind the top front teeth, so the symbol was a diagonal line leaning against a vertical line. The D sound was caused in the same way, but with the voice sounding while the tongue blocked the passage of air, so the symbol was a wavy line (pushing hard enough to bend) leaning against a vertical line. The wavy line had one ascender, and one dip, and essentially looked like a backward h.

After we exhausted all the consonants, I gave them phonics lessons and had them practice making the sound for each symbol. For the most part, they picked it up very quickly. After a few days, they could sound out a simple word based on the symbols. In a ten-day period, they began to say the words without having to sound them out.

I also drilled them on writing down words that I recited. This was more difficult for them, but in time it became easier, especially if I assigned them rigorous homework projects.

Teerliaka seemed to learn the fastest, probably due to a learning instinct acquired from many previous worlds.

But the group in general were good students, and were mostly quite happy to learn this talent.

The married couple came to class one day, beaming like children, and told the rest of us that they had played a trick on their neighbors. Terrumay reported, “I sent Darimar out to pick fruit, and invited my neighbor friend to say some simple words. After I wrote down the symbols for those words, I invited my husband to come into the cabin. I handed him the plasque with my friend’s words on it, then told him to tell the rest of us the words she said.

“Darimar took only a little while to study the symbols, then repeated successfully what my friend had said! Great, huh? Everyone was amazed at how Darimar could know what she said, merely by looking at that piece of plasque. They want to help us, so they can learn, too.”

The queen smiled. “In time, I am sure we will have plenty of help. For now, we will continue like this.”

Someone came to report that the Ancient had returned to the village. The queen left the class to go meet him. I assigned some home work to the class and prepared to go, for I felt that I should talk to the Ancient about what I had been doing.

Teerliaka made preparations to accompany me. I looked at her quizzically, and she said sternly, “I’m coming with you.”

When we arrived, the Ancient had us sit down, but he remained standing. Without any formalities he looked at me and said, “I dreamed that you were sowing seeds; seeds of corruption and rebellion, and that my people began to listen.”

I dared not look at his wife as I responded, “I don’t seek for rebellion. I only seek to teach. And I have been teaching the people.”

“What have you taught them?”

“A written language; a way to record permanently the spoken word.”

The Ancient said, “Yes, of course! For you have planned that all will eventually die, and their words along with them.”

“I have not planned . . .”

“Thus, your words of corruption can therefore persist through the death and destruction that will eventually come.”

I responded, “If death and destruction come about because of what I do, then it is best for the good of all to preserve the words of the histories after all.”

The Ancient heated up a bit: “And if you had done nothing, the need to preserve the histories would not exist, now, would it!”

I was amazed at how calm I was in the face of the austere Ancient. Perhaps my serenity was a conditioned response from having dealt with all my previous hostile experiences, where I had fought in wars, witnessed violence, and faced the most hostile and threatening of people, both righteous and evil.

Because I was able to keep my composure, I was therefore able to think clearly and present my own argument without sounding hostile myself: “Sir, someone or some process caused me to have full recall of all or many of my previous worlds. I doubt that the adversary gave me this recall, for who would admit that he or they could have such power? I now possess all the wisdom and common sense I gained in those worlds. Using that experience, I can see where this world will go if I do nothing. And if I do not offer my experience in an attempt to help this people, I feel I would be mocking the powers that gave me this recall.”

The Ancient said, “Well, you have what you deem to be your cause, and I have my mandate from the Creator to guard against that very thing.”

An idea came into my mind, and I acted on it: “Sir, have you been directed to stop me, or any like me? Or merely to warn the people?”

The Ancient sobered. Quietly, he said, “Only to warn the people. But the Creator does not force people to his will.”

I said, “But in many of my worlds, he has allowed them to perish on the spot, if they inhibited his work. But he has never stopped these . . . sowers of seeds, as you call them, in bringing about their work that eventually brought the fall in each world. Doesn’t that suggest that -- secretly -- the Creator is hoping that something like this should happen?”

The thought must have slightly shocked the Ancient, for he said nothing. So I continued, “In each world, the Creator had arranged for a Messiah to restore the effects of each fall. This Messiah conquered death so that the people could rise again, and he, himself suffered the consequences of all sins, so that the people who obeyed his word would return to his presence again. And they returned a stronger and wiser people.

“Surely, the Creator has talked to you about a Messiah. This is too big a thing for him to keep it a secret from his prophets. At least it was so in my previous worlds.”

The Ancient had visibly reacted to this, as if I were speaking the truth. He sat down, a bit shaky, bowed his head slightly, then said, “This is possible. But it still will not change my lack of support.”

The queen spoke up, looking at her husband: “However, there is nothing that can physically keep me from supporting him; true?”

The Ancient looked at her. “Why do you say that?”

She said to him lovingly, “Because I grow weary of achieving nothing in the 400 years of our existence. I see the wisdom of moving on.”

“Then in reality, his words do glitter with a luster that cannot be resisted, as I have seen in my dreams. Has he been talking to you while I was gone?”

“I invited him in.” She pulled her plasque sheets from a nearby hiding place. “He wanted to wait until you got back, but I told him to go ahead. These are the characters representing the written language he spoke of.”

The Ancient looked at them for a while -- not to study them, but to process all he’d just heard. Finally, he said, “So: it has reached those closest to me, while my back was turned.” He turned to look at Teerliaka, but said nothing.

The queen said calmly, “You know this is not personal, my beloved. And it should not be a great surprise to you; it did not start with this young man. It started within me long before he arrived, and I have talked with you about it.”

The Ancient stood up. “So you have.” He turned toward the cabin door. “And I must seek direction over this.” He left, as if in a daze.

The three of us talked quietly, wondering about the consequences, but all showing agreement that adventurous times had arrived.

After a while, the Ancient poked his head through the cabin door, and said, “Senzjan, Harusten: come with me.”

Waiting outside was a man who seemed cleaner than a . . . soap bubble. He said, “Follow me.” He turned and walked away, the three of us following in reverent silence.

We walked until we left the boundaries of the community, and found ourselves near the western forbidden zone. After a while, he stopped in an isolated area. He then turned to us and said, “Wait here.” He turned again, and soon disappeared behind the trees of the surrounding woods.
The queen and I looked at each other with a bit of apprehension, and the Ancient looked down, at nothing in particular.

After a short while, a bright light in the sky caught our eye, and descended toward us.
It felt uneasily familiar, though I never remember seeing such a sight before. The light was so bright that it hurt my eyes, then I felt something cover me, and I no longer felt pain. A man emerged from the light. Just as the light seemed familiar, so was the appearance of this man. The glory and virtue emanating from this being was so strong, I felt that it passed right through me, examining every square millimeter of both soul and body. I now felt extreme pangs of guilt, and quite helpless at what was going to happen next.

The man, whom I surmised as Eldu, said, “Pringenus: You have reported disobedience among my children.”

The Ancient responded, “Yes, my Lord. My beloved wife has listened to the words of a tempter, the Sower of Seeds, Harusten of the Harbannes.”

The Creator turned to the queen: “Senzjan. Is this true?”

The queen said with bowed head, “My Lord, I do not call him a tempter, but I have learned of the written language he teaches.”

The Creator then turned to me. “Harusten: have you done as my daughter has described?”

“Yes, Sir . . . Lord.”

“What elements from this world have you used to teach this written language?”

“I have used the tender stems of the squen tree, the quills of the neckbirds to write with, and the juice of the parrberry for the ink.”

“Harusten, you have refused to believe in me, of late, though you received irrefutable evidence of my existence. Now, you have caused the downfall of innocent people, which will bring decay and death. Because you have done these things, you have placed yourself outside the Messiah’s offer of mercy, and you will be made to suffer your own consequences. Furthermore, on the second sunrise following the night, you will lose the use of your arms and legs. All those around you, including those closest to you, will soon loathe you, for you shall develop a stinky mucous on your skin that will not wash away, and you shall beg for your food. Pain will torment you for the rest of your life. If you desire, you may end your life before that sunrise, to avoid this loathing and pain.

“Your act of tempting the people will create endless woes, and therefore my punishment is endless.”

During this presentation, I smiled and shook my head, feeling that this well-meaning and melodramatic personage had misunderstood me. I finally said, “Lord, I am not the Devil! I have only good intentions. I am only doing that which history has demonstrated to be essential, in other worlds.”

The Creator said, “You knew the law, and your restrictions, yet you have ignored them. The punishment stands.”

Feebly, I said, “But my Teerliaka . . . you . . . my vision of her . . . our . . .our puzzle that is coming together!”

“Nevertheless, you have taken that step, and the world will continue its fall, even without you. And now, you call me ‘Lord.’ Why do you do this to my face, but then label me dacca mentioswhen you believe I cannot hear you? and also after causing your sister to pray to me in filthy language? Therefore, the deed must be paid for by you, alone. Your Teerliaka is worthy of a perfect reward, and she will be taken from you and offered to another.”

I began to let my anger fly: “But my recall! All my experience! You gave me all that! Is that . . . Is that all for nothing? What was I supposed to do with it?”

The Creator looked at me with sad eyes. “My dear Hannejan: Some day you will understand it all, and you will accept it.”

As he turned to the queen to dispense her punishment, I numbed, and heard no more for a time. That word he used: Hannejan. That was the name Teerliaka had dreamed up for me! It meant something, and I was desperately trying to find that meaning.

I absently found a place to sit down, so that I wouldn’t sink on rubbery legs. Many things went through my mind, and I tried to think my way out of this. I tried to convince myself that this was a curse mentioned only for the benefit of the Ancient, or for all Priegans, and that it actually wouldn’t happen. I tried to decipher it as only a metaphor of a more benign punishment.

So deeply I sank into thought that I knew nothing else, until I finally looked around and noticed that I was alone.

I came to my knees and prayed for forgiveness from the Creator. I prayed for enlightenment. I prayed fervently for more sincerity, as much time passed. I went without food, as darkness came, and the night passed. I went without sleep as the night turned into day. Still, I continued praying, hoping for some type of reprieve from this curse, for it surely carried with it even another frustrated affair with my Lenazuree, the most painful one yet, for this time I had total recall of all previous frustrations, and in this life I had developed the highest hope for the success of this latest relationship, because of the signs and paranormal occurrences!

I was getting desperately hungry, and more angry. So I decided that if the Creator wasn’t going to visit with me personally, I was just going to yell at him from here. I said, starting out low and nasal,
“You tricked me! You waited until I started with the Queen before you had Teerliaka come along! Then you waited until all that . . . magic stuff happened, then said, ‘Sorry! Time’s up!' "

Then I yelled louder, “Well, way to go! Maybe I really should become the Devil, and see how much destruction I can cause before I’m so ruthlessly done away with! Maybe I should decide to just forget the level of civility I had achieved in my later worlds, and go right now, and murder a few . . . virgins, while I still have the wherewithal! Then, maybe I’ll be deserving of such a cursing!”

I thought a while, then said more quietly, “If this is all symbolic, it would be nice to know it!”

Chapter 8
As I approached my home, my mother rushed to greet me. She cried and said, “I thought you were banned from the village! Are you alright?”

I only nodded. My father brought me fruit, which I ate half-heartedly, still in a daze. My mother said, “Harusten: did the Creator give you a curse?”

Without feeling, I said, looking straight ahead into nothing, “So: the Ancient has told you.”

"The Ancient has kept it to himself. He suspects that I would want to hear it from you.”

“What: the nature of the curse? He didn’t tell you?”

“He has told me only that you have been cursed. What was it, my dear Harusten?”

“And the queen? She didn’t say anything?”

“I did not see the queen. She is not with us any more.”

The daze around me dissolved. I looked at my mother. “What did you say?”

“The queen is not with us. She and those who have worked with you have been banished from the community.”

“And Teerliaka?”

“She is with them.”

I stood up. “Where did they go?”

“I do not know.”

I headed out into the garden area, but my mother stopped me: “Harusten: what is the curse upon you?”

I thought a moment, did my best to smile, and said, “It’s not serious, Mother Ann. It mainly involves this . . . idea that I shouldn’t marry, now.”

I left, and hurried my steps to a quiet grove I was accustomed to visiting. I lay myself down, tried relaxing, so I could attempt to project my astral body. I was hoping an astral search would help me to find Teerliaka.

But I couldn’t relax. Time was ticking away, and my limbs were beginning to weaken. In attempting an astral projection, I was just losing time.

So I headed for the home of the Ancient. When I arrived at the cabin door, I was not polite. To the steward, I said, “Where is he?”

The answer: “At the moment he cannot be . . .”

I shoved him aside and entered the cabin. The Ancient was on his knees, and he was plainly distraught.

“Where did the queen and Teerliaka go?” I demanded.

The Ancient looked a bit surprised, and stood to face me, not bothering to hide his tears. He said, “Because of you, she is not with me, now.”

“Where are they?” I said a little more harshly.

“Have you not done enough to them?”

“What happened was their choice. Please tell me.”

“Why were you permitted to reenter into the pure gardens?”

I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, then said calmly, “Sir, I do not know. But evidently my banishment will come soon enough.

“Meanwhile, my brother . . . if you will permit me to call you that . . . we are two men who have lost their loved ones. You, you have the option to join your beloved, and live out a life of happiness and discovery. You can either allow that she die alone, causing both of you loneliness and despair, or your can join her and the both of you can live happy, and eventually die happy.
“Me, I don’t have that option.”

I tried hard to keep my composure, then continued, my voice wavering, “I must soon remove myself from this planet, to avoid the horror of watching my beloved loathe me. I wish . . . merely . . . at this point, to at least bid her farewell, while I am still presentable.”

The Ancient sadly bowed his head and lowered his eyes. Then he looked at me and said, “They have gone to the camp at the parrberry grove, toward the clan of the Barrumandra.”

I bowed to the king. “Thank you, sincerely. I am eternally indebted to you.”

I knew I didn’t have much time, because the pain was growing in my legs, and I was beginning to feel a little light-headed. I decided I would get more done if I first said goodbye to my family, and then go to the Parrberry Camp.

At home, I gave them a hypocritical but convincing speech of comfort and of great things awaiting us all. Then I said to my mother, “My teaching may end sooner than expected, but if so, I will be back in spirit, or perhaps with you in another body. I don’t know if you will be the mother, or someone else. But I will always regard you as “the” mother.

My mother tried to talk me out of that kind of fate, but I said, “Just remember all that we talked about through my life, and how everything will turn out in the end. And just think: You will probably be privileged to witness my fourth personality change.”

I had them almost laughing with sad smiles as I mounted my carban and left my Priegan home to head for the Parrberry Camp.

Berianda saw me from far off as I approached the camp, and she turned to the rest to tell of my arrival. I dismounted as Teerliaka came out to me, her face full of apprehension, but intensely beautiful!

She hugged me and said, “Oh, my dear Harusten! What is happening?”

I pulled away from the embrace, put my hurting arm around her shoulders, and directed her toward the rest of the people. I responded cheerfully with nasal tenderness, “A new world, full of adventure, discovery and plenty of increased joy.”

I said that mainly for her benefit. In reality, I was growing in my anger, as the pain in my body signalled that the curse was going to be literal.

Darimar and his wife were a little way off, having waved to me, still making final adjustments to the main dwelling tent. A few carbans and pack animals were milling around, nibbling at the grass and the parrberries.

The other three women sat around the wondrously beautiful queen, who was resting under the shade of a tree, showing somber gladness at my arrival. She remained seated as I approached. When I got to her feet I knelt down and took her hands. I said, “Greetings, my respected queen. I have just come from the presence of the Ancient, and he is very sad and lonely. I feel that a little time and meditation is all that stands between now, and your reunion.” I wasn’t sure I believed this, but -- again -- I was merely going through the motions for the benefit of those I cared about.

She patted my hand and said, “Thank you, Din Harusten. I have faith that you are right.”

I turned to Teerliaka and said, “Can you gather the people around? I want to talk to them.”

As Teerliaka’s attention was turned to the assembling of the people, I asked the Queen, “How much do the people here know of my curse?”

Senzjan shook her head. “Nothing more than this, that all of us are banned from the pure gardens.”

I asked, “Even Teerliaka? She knows nothing of my fate?”

She shook her head. “Even Teerliaka. I deemed your . . . new role as a private matter, and I implored my husband to never say anything about it.”

I smiled. “You are the best, my Queen! Thank You!” After a pause, I said, “Take care of her, okay? Tell her she can marry?”

The queen stifled a show of emotion as she nodded, then grabbed my hand before I could leave. She said, “Harusten: no matter what your curse sounded like, do not use it to become someone who is not you.”

I patted her hand, then straightened up to talk to the people.

I said, “My friends: you will now begin to progress in knowledge, and in the arts, and in many ways, such that when people see you, they will want to join you. Don’t feel lonely, or without support. There will come a day when all your loved ones will finally join you. Others will come because of curiosity, and from what they have heard. You, out here, may feel alone and isolated, but I guarantee that you will be on the lips and thoughts of every person in this world.

“Now go, and prepare to be the center of all Priegan, for that will soon come. Meanwhile, I must go and begin my circuit of the other clans, to do my teaching.”

I looked at Teerliaka and said, “Can we talk in private?”

She smiled and said, “We better talk in private . . .”

We went to a spot secluded from the rest, and I said, “Teerliaka: I want you to hear it from my mouth that I love you. And you know that if anything happens -- anything; like if I don’t come back
-- you will know that it will not mean that I don’t love you.”

She gave me that scolding look again but with less of a smile than usual, and said, “Harusten, why are you talking like that? You know of something that you’re not telling me!”

“I say that just in case. Okay? Because I’m going into strange places to continue my work, and perhaps I’ll fall off a high cliff, and you’ll think I ran away.”

Teerliaka said, “We’ll solve that; I’m going with you.”

I responded, “Can you enter the pure areas?”

She sobered. “No . . .”

“Well, today I was able to enter the area of the Selacandra. I believe this means that the powers that be, approve of what I’m doing, because opposition is needed in order to effect growth, as I have mentioned many times before.

“Therefore, I think it’s best that I go alone, and you stay to direct the work, for your talents are great, and you are needed here. I’ll try not to be long, and I’ll come back for an occasional rest. How does that sound?”

Her answer was, “I love you, Hannejan of the Eternities.”

I looked at her in amazement and rasped, “You do? And how strong is that love? What will it conquer?”

“Anything that may threaten us. Anything.”

I kissed her. “I love you, too, my Teerliaka, my Lenazuree. I have loved you forever!”

We kissed again, a long one. Then, as we hugged, she said, “So when are we getting married?”

I smiled roughly in surprise as I held back stronger emotions and then looked into her eyes.

Tears were falling from them, as she bravely smiled at me!

I worked to control myself and then responded, “We’ll start the plans in the day both of us can hear the sweetsong of the ladydove -- be it symbolic or literal.

She moved easily into my arms again and rested her head sideways on my chest. “Harusten: you have a magnificent mind. I will therefore wait until . . . conditions permit . . . to enjoy that mind, and you.”

I gave her one more kiss. As I tried to leave, she clung to me, as if knowing this was our last encounter. As I backed away, she put the back of her hand over her mouth and cried with stifled sobs. I said, “Don’t ever lose faith in my love for you.”

I walked to my carban, stiffened now by pain in all my limbs, and burning with fever. As gracefully as possible I mounted my carban. I rode away, the people reverently waving at me. No one ever suspected that by now, my fingertips and feet were tingling and numbing.

As I rode away, foremost on my mind were the words of Teerliaka: “I love you, Hannejan of the Eternities.” And, “Our love will conquer anything that will threaten us.” Those words, like a drug, soothed the pains that were growing to an acute level in my body.

I then rode to the sea I had gazed at just a few days earlier while in the arms of the most beautiful woman in the universe, a sea whose beach bore no trace nor memory of our recent visit there

The tide was still low, so I tied heavy rocks into my gown, then wedged myself between two large rocks. If I were to truly lose the use of my limbs at dawn, which was just a couple of hours away by now, then here I would remain while the tide rose. If not, I could get away in time.

Ironically, the morning did not bring new life: The curse came through, and the same sea that had -- for a brief moment -- drawn my Lenazuree closer to me, summarily swallowed me up, and I was taken away, once more, from the evasive arms of the only woman in the universe who could quench the devil in me.

Chapter 9
This time, my death was different than any I had experienced before: My spirit just floated around aimlessly. Also -- for the first time -- I saw many other spirits, as well as the mortals still living on the planet. The other spirits around me were all engaged in what their body language portrayed as being terribly important work. Some followed the mortals around quite closely. Others took messages from some of these “guardian angels,” then flew away to evidently carry those messages to a higher plane.

Other angels stood farther off, at a higher level. Was there a spirit hierarchy?

I willed myself to fly higher, to see if I could. It was second nature; evidently I had done it many times before. I looked at the other “high-echelon” spirits to see if they thought I was invading their space. One of them just looked briefly at me, then continued his gaze at the Priegans.

But I wanted to talk to him. I said, “Do you know me? Or anything about what I’m supposed to do?”

He smiled at me cordially: “You may do what you wish. You have free choice.”

The emotional blow delivered to me in the cursing was still so painful, that I did not care how I sounded: I said, “Even if it means killing someone?”

He gave me a brief look of disdain, said nothing, then looked back at the planet.

I pressed, “. . . or total genocide?”

The angel, along with two of his associates, looked at me briefly before completely disappearing.

I said quietly, “Aha! Can’t take it, huh? We need to condition you. Desensitize you.”

I floated toward the camp where my beloved Lenazuree was now waiting for someone who would never return.

When I found her, I saw that three female angels were around her, watching her every move, and watching the events and people around her, as if making sure that nothing would happen to bring her harm. The first angel stood a ways off from Teerliaka. She wore a belt made of silver links. The second was just a pace or two away from her. Her hair glistened, as if each strand was made of gold. The third one was ready to interact with the others that were with Teerliaka. Her facial features reminded me of a porcelain doll, and her eyes were black and piercing, nestled under her eyebrows, yet tender and smiling. Her chocolate brown hair rippled easily with her movements, as if each strand was completely free if the others.

As I came near, the second angel -- the one furthest off -- looked at me then back at Teerliaka. I said, “She’s a woman worth watching, yes?”

Without looking at me the angel responded importantly, “All souls are worth watching.”

I answered, “Careful about that word ‘all;’ it would have to include me.”

The angel looked at me like a school teacher, her silver belt glistening brightly. “Certainly! I didinclude you in that statement.” She looked back at Teerliaka.

I said, “Well, for all the watching, it was in vain, then -- wasn’t it?”

The angel said nothing as she continued her vigil. The golden-haired one said, giving me only a brief glance, “We are not here to evaluate you.”

“Are you saying you don’t know what kind of person I am?”

Silver-belt turned to look at me and tenderly said, “Hear this: The activities of a mortal -- whether small or extreme -- are the consequences of vast experiences and conditions. Isolated or short-term incidents do not afford an in-depth evaluation of that mortal. Furthermore, we have not followed you in your life, but Teerliaka only. Assigned to you were angels who knew you better than we.”

“Why the bother, when I was such a rebel?”

Each angel looked at me briefly, somehow softly reminding me with their gazes that I was asking the wrong group of angels that question.

After a moment of silence I said, while watching Teerliaka, “At least, it had to be perfectly obvious to you, through my actions, that I loved her with a love that had its roots in millennia of wishes and dreams.”

The third angel, silent and aloof until now, gave me a side-long look, accompanied with a slight smile. This made her dark eyes big and childishly bashful. I got the impression, based on her body language, that if she had been caught giving me that look of affirmation, she would have lost her figurative wings.

I smiled back at her with an equally covert glance. Then I looked down, sobered, then said, “But what good is it to love someone, when the high and mighty powers that be so faithfully and efficiently dash with increasing ruthlessness any hope of ever being with that same target of my love?”

The dark-eyed angel - the third one - looked at Teerliaka and quickly and smoothly said, “The Creator works in mysterious ways.”

My emotions grew more intense during my response: “Well, explain to me those ways, then, because otherwise I will remain convinced that it’s a personal matter, and that I’m a hate pet. Some people have pets to love. Well, I feel like a pet made for venting hate!”

Just then, Teerliaka put down what she was doing, arose with a frightened look on her face, and headed for the Queen Senzjan.

The queen said, “Teerliaka! What is wrong? You look so frightened!”

Teerliaka looked back at where she was sitting and said, “I felt that someone was behind me! Someone evil!”

As the queen comforted Teerliaka, I asked, “What got into her?”

“Goldilocks” said, as she reached out her hands toward Teerliaka, “You did. She picked up on your emotions, and your words. They were not pretty.”

I snickered. “Not pretty? You haven’t heard anything yet, my naive little cherub.”

She gave me a look of “Please don’t go further,” then returned to watching Teerliaka.

I said quietly, as I gazed at Teerliaka, “So tell me what I’m supposed to do.”

The first angel -- the silver-clad one -- replied, “We are not oriented to you or your mission; only to the life of Teerliaka. We cannot help you.”

“Who can?”

The angels showed sorrow as the first one said, “I’m sorry; I do not know the answer to that.”

I turned to watch Teerliaka, amazed at the beauty of someone who had a kiss for me, and the notion to marry me. I lived her words over and over: “I love you, Hannejan of the Eternities."

For the longest time, I was content just to do nothing but watch her. After she recovered from her scare, she settled down, working closer to the queen. After another few minutes passed, I could tell she was thinking about something, because she would smile occasionally. I fantasized it was about me -- or what I used to be. I asked the angels, “Is she thinking of me?”

The first two looked at me with a mild warning expression. The third was transfixed on Teerliaka, her lips pursed in a stifled smile.

Soon it was bedtime and after Teerliaka prepared for sleep, she knelt beside her mattress and prayed. She gave thanks for me, and asked Eldu to protect me, and -- if it were his will -- to bring me back to her. It was both soothing and torturous to watch this.

Once she was asleep, I watched for only a few more minutes, then I left, but not without casting one more secretive glance at the third angel who seemed to secretly enjoy my attention. I wandered the globe, thinking, mourning, weighing all that I had heard and felt during the
last few days. After thinking of everything, both good and bad, of good times and bad times, of recent miracles and heartache, of high times and low times, of hopes and dreams against sorrow and despair, of extreme happiness against extreme sorrow, the pain of my ultimate separation from my Lenazuree -- made bitter by the memory of all other such failures -- brought a bitterness to my heart that was strong enough to make me feel like I had a physical body. When I remembered the spirituality from my dream of Mairee the Markke, and noted that it could almost be felt, I compared it to my current pain and gloom, and decided that it was about as strong, if not stronger. It slowed my movement, and seemed to choke off my breathing, even though spirits
don’t breathe.

So painful was my misery, that it ultimately translated to hate. I could only feel hate for the act of the Creator in dangling my Teerliaka in front of me for a while, then ruthlessly yanking her away,
and all this because of something I did in an effort to help!

I wanted to truly become the devil, now. I wanted to start right now. I wanted to sow seeds of contention into the minds of the people. I wanted to teach greed, lasciviousness, hate, and whatever else I could get away with. Then there would certainly be the opposition sought
for. Then there would be a forced growth among the people to overcome it. Then there would come a whole slew of crises that the people would have to either deal with, or crumble over, whichever came first. My planet would be either the fastest to go under, or the quickest to conquer all!

But thoughts of Teerliaka -- and the freedom I had of being able to watch her -- kept me from initiating any of my plans. For the longest time I was happy just to watch her, though in a way it was tortuous, for I knew that I was looking at something I couldn’t have, because the Creator had said this punishment was eternal.