Authors: Modou Fye
The Story Begins
The First Chapter of a Foregone Fate
Table of Contents
Oblivious was the
world that lay in their midst; yet, though unaware to that which occurred in the heavens above, every living creature upon the face of the earth and in the deepest seas suddenly felt a burning urge to look up to the heavens. Mankind, in particular, did so with great trepidation. Even those who had been slumbering in the comfort of their beds did so uneasily. And rightfully so, for high above the earth, in the darkness of the heavens, Death had suddenly emerged out of the great dark in the form of eight intensely glowing beings. Among the eight there was one whose radiance was unequaled. The intensity with which its eyes sparked and glowered could have seared through the universe with far less effort than that of a child dismantling a structure made of toy building blocks.
Other than their shimmering, fiery, turquoise eyes, they had no other discernible features. They were amorphous entities, ever-changing in likeness. Their only unchanging aspect was the intent in their glowering eyes, and in those eyes certain death was a promise.
In their midst the earth lay as a toy; a ball that could easily be picked up and effortlessly flung into oblivion. They looked upon it with a burning intensity, the eyes of each changing color rapidly moving in a manner akin to a camera’s shutter snapping pictures in rapid succession.
By unspoken consensus, seven of the eight fell in accord towards the earth. The eighth entity remained in place as the others fell. While they fell towards the earth, the eighth being raised its head away from the earth and stretched its gaze across the rest of the solar system. It looked at the solar system as one who surveyed their backyard. Then, suddenly, it brought its focus back to the earth and the descending entities that had now contracted in stature and penetrated the earth’s atmosphere
All had struck the earth in different places in the form of lightening, radiating a burst of glowing light as they made contact. No sooner had they touched the ground than they started taking the form of man, the transformation from beings of intensely burning light into human likenesses began at the soles of their feet and made its way upwards. What just moments before had been luminous, radiant, bright, electrically-charged amorphous figures morphed into flesh. All but one had taken on the likeness of a man; the seventh that of a woman. Save the female entity, all had landed in unpopulated country in the United States, China, Japan, Israel, Saudi Arabia, Germany and Iran, and all had assumed the features of the native peoples of those lands.
The female entity landed in Germany, atop a mountain peak. There was a lone man there, sharpening an axe. Seeing her, fear gripped him; his knees buckled and he fell. She looked to where he lay, deathly pale. The intensity with which she looked at him incinerated his body in an instant. Then, with unnatural speed, she raced to where he had fallen capturing his ascending soul with faint cloudy rays of light that extended from her being. She looked at his ensnared, writhing soul then, caressing its face with her flowing, jet black hair, a bluish flame burst forth, putting an end to his existence.
High in the heavens, the last entity had watched from on high as the rest had descended and assumed their roles, setting the unfolding design in motion. A lesser part of it broke away, disengaging from the whole as a cell divides from itself. The lesser form then descended towards the earth while the greater self remained in place. As it fell it contracted in stature as a spark of life bound for an unborn child. Then, when it was a hair’s breath away from the earth’s atmosphere, it simply vanished. As soon as the lesser self had vanished, the greater being rose higher into the heavens and then it too vanished, back from whence they came.
Wasserturm was where it had all begun; in this lifetime, that is. And though they both knew there was more to their being than was known to them while in the likeness of mankind, their true nature was still as much a mystery to the aged couple as it had been during their younger days. But little did that really matter to the lovely couple, who had carried on as newly-weds since first they met. Though they knew that their hour was nigh, they couldn’t be any more certain that after they had gone to the slumber that is the fate of us all, it would not be long before once again they’d be in each other’s embrace.
They knew that this would be the last time they would visit the place they had been coming to for the better part of 65 years; this was the last time that they’d sit upon the park bench looking upon the Wasserturm for, with nightfall, would come their final rest. Whatever life the morrow were to bring, whatever the form their essence was to take, they couldn’t have been any more certain that the adventure they had lived time and again would begin anew; again would it be as though they had fallen in love for the very first time.
Holding his wife close to his bosom and caressing her flowing silvery hair, he said to her, “Come, my beloved.” Then gently caressing her face as he peered into her almond-shaped eyes he added, “The hour is nigh and our children await us. Let us go to them.”
Rising they walked towards the Wasserturm and, as they approached the steps leading up to the structure that symbolized their beginning, they simply vanished, as though enshrouded by a cloak of invisibility reminiscent of a scene out of a myriad Hollywood fantasy films.
couple’s offspring gathered around their parents and, knowing what was to come, they wept for they knew it wouldn’t be long before sleep overcame their parents.
“Cry not, beloved children,” said their mother to her son and his sisters. “It shall not be long before we are together again.”
“For you, dearest mother, time shall be but an illusion, yet for us left here it shall be as though time has come to an end, eternally separating us.”
“You have always been there for one another and so should it always be. In our absence care for each other as dearly now as you have always; your grief shall be temporary. Do you forget that you are gifted, are blessed?” asked their father.
“No. We have not forgotten but it hurts knowing that after tonight, no longer can we physically be with you,” lamented Aidan.
“Only for a little while,” comforted their mother. “Only for a while.”
“Come closer, children. Make peace with that which is soon to come to pass. I feel that it comes,” said their father.
The children knelt on either side of their parents and wept over them then, kissing their parents, reluctantly and with heavy hearts, they withdrew from the bedroom.
No sooner had Aidan shut the door after all three had looked upon their parents for the last time, than a mist began to materialize above the elderly couple’s bed. It slowly descended towards the awaiting pair, who looked upon the forming entity.
“My heart is heavy yet your mind is set upon our fate,” said Jaden, sighing, to the glowing light as he held his beloved wife closer, perhaps trying to shield her from Death.
“This is thy will, my lord,” spoke the entity softly.
“You call me Lord and speak of will as though I were a god. Gods do not die. Gods do not leave their beloved behind. Yet here you are, shepherding us to the abyss unknown,” Jaden lamented.
“You reject the inevitable fate of all flesh for fear now commands thee, but within it is known to you with utmost certainty that any death brought to bear upon thee is not eternal and that you shall be with all those you love again. Time and again have you returned to whence you came after being born of the flesh, and the many other forms ye have taken since time immemorial; you remember not what lies beyond but always do ye remember, as your lives unfold in the present, that you have been here, and other places, before,” she said, invoking memories within Jaden of the god-like life he had lived. “Though you know within that it is truth that I speak, still, your fear is not without grounds for it is in using your humanity against thee that fear has made itself appear real. Yet, my lord, I shall deceive you not. Your fear is greater in this life for you sense that darkness lies beyond. A greater death, indeed, is coming but this death is not yours. This death can never be yours.” Jaden looked perplexed but before he could ask what she meant she continued, “Again and again are you born, my lord,” calmed and comforted the entity in a mellifluent voice. Though still a diaphanous celestial being with the semblance of an amorphous and flowing light, she had now taken on a face that Jaden recognized.
“I know you!” he exclaimed, recognizing the face that their death had assumed; the face he had first seen so many years past when he was but a young lieutenant just arrived in Germany. “But that cannot be. My eyes lie to me as I lie upon my death bed.”
“No, my lord, I am she,” confirmed the angel. “I am she who was called Angela; the same that lowered her eyes before thee when ye came searching for where you might rest your head when you were still but a young child of earth. Search and remember within thy soul, my lord.” She paused as he thought, then she continued, “Remember ye now, beloved, that though you knew not how then, still, you did sense that I was not as others are.”
“Angela! Of course! One letter more than angel.” He smiled. “In my heart I know you to be telling the truth. You are as you say you are. And after the life I’ve lived,” said Jaden, reflecting on the god-like abilities he had commanded, “how foolish I am to have now doubted and denied you.”
Then the angel lowered herself on Lydia’s side of the bed. Jaden looked over to his wife and wept. He held her closer then, looking at the angel, he said, “Take me and leave her be.” He tried to summon his strength against the angel but it was futile. His abilities seemed to have deserted him. Once upon a time, he could have rivaled any power in existence, even the divine, but alas his mortality now betrayed him.
Angela knelt beside Lydia and took her hand gently in her own now-materializing hand. “Dearest and most ancient of friends,” she called her, “fear not what is to come. Fear not for that of you ye will leave upon the earth. As our Lord spoke unto your offspring, I promise it shall not be long before ye are all brought home.”
Lydia grew concerned and tears streamed down her cheeks. If she had heard the angel refer to her as most ancient of friends, those words seemed to have been lost upon her. Her concern was for her children. “Shall my children not live out their days and grow old as my husband and I have?”
The angel smiled. “Trouble not thy wearied soul with worry,” she said.
“I fear for your answer is vague, perhaps even evasive,” observed Jaden.
Then, becoming twin entities, Angela drifted from herself and, levitating above and across the bed, one of the twain she had become remained with Lydia while the other of her knelt by he whom she called Lord. She smiled kindly while squinting her eyes as though to acknowledge his skepticism while yet still remaining cryptic. Then, reaching out her hands from that of her which was on either side of the bed, she took them both by the hand and said, “Behold your days past.”
is the baby all right?” asked a nervous mother after catching her breath following her final push. But before the doctor could answer, the newborn baby broke the unnatural silence and apprehension that had come upon everyone in the delivery room with an adorable cry. Was the child just delivered the anti-Christ? Certainly an occurrence quite beyond strange had just occurred within the walls of the delivery room, thought the doctor as her mind flashed back to the many doomsday movies she had watched in which some poor unsuspecting mother had given birth to the devil. She was much too educated to really believe that, she thought, as she dismissed the notion. But something decidedly unusual and inexplicable did just happen, that much was obvious to not just her but everyone else present.
Hearing the child’s mother asking after her son brought everyone out of the stupefaction that had enthralled them.
“Congratulations! It’s a boy,” said the visibly unsettled doctor as she gently delivered the newly born child to his mother. The father, overcome by emotion, caressed his son’s head as his wife received their child into her arms. The doctor could not identify or relate to what she was feeling; as alien as whatever the sensation carousing through her being was, it was certainly a feeling of some kind, only one very much beyond her scope to even mentally grasp let alone verbally articulate. Though well aware of the fact that she had been in a torpor-like state, somehow the doctor was quite certain that even the most well-read and well-spoken person could never articulate what she had felt as she delivered the little boy, who now lay resting happily in his mother’s arms.
“In all my years delivering babies,” marveled the middle-aged doctor, “delivering your son was,
,” she said emphatically, “the most curious event that has ever occurred in my life.” The nurses, in somewhat of a confused and agitated state, nodded vehemently in accord with the doctor’s assertion. Then a thought occurred to the doctor, perhaps her words might have come across as being offensive. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that in a-”
“Don’t worry about it, Doctor. I think we all felt the same sense of whatever that was all about for a few minutes,” the father reassured her. “We are just happy that everything is all right.”
Just then a blue flame began to materialize, revealing an elderly couple, Jaden and Lydia. They hovered, unseen, before the bed while everyone else gathered around the mother and her newborn. The couple looked upon all those that had gathered and smiled as they watched the baby being showered with affection. Then Jaden, drifting forward, passed through the bed before vanishing and reappearing behind the mother and her son, whispered into the ear of the new mother, “If you were told today that which your son will be tomorrow, never would you believe the marvel that you now hold in your arms. Your child is, indeed, quite all right, dearest mother.” Then, returning to his wife and reaching out his hand to her, he said, “So is how it began; come, my beloved, let us go forward and relive the days gone by and, once the end we have reached, peace shall we have to make with our mortality… albeit reluctantly on my part,” he added.