Tale of Reincarnation realities and the possible practicalities one may encounter.
|By Dayna Ferguson
It’s very early in the morning as the youthful pimpled face teen, enters the great chamber adorned with old tapestry’s along one side of it’s tall walls, telling tales of conquest, ventures won and lost in times gone by. Paul was told earlier, as he was given new clothes to put on that this would be the most important day of his life. But his feet hurt, as he walked toward the long ornate desk at the far end of the chamber. 100 feet across at least, he thought and he was feeling small listening to the echoes his new shoes made upon the polished stone floor as he grew closer. There sat the old woman he spied earlier watching him and the others When he arrived. He knew, none of them but was told, all were his cousins. Now, after two weeks of what were clearly trials of their character and integrity. He would meet his host. She sat silently watching his approach. She is very observant, he thought. He waited for her to speak.
“Good morning my sweet nephew.” He squints a bit, having never been called this before. And from his gate She realized his feet hurt.
“Sit.” Pointing to the chair before her. She began closing a little black book, of which she was writing, then leaned back. She was an aunt? he wondered.
Smiling, “Let's wait a moment, and watch as the sun rises to begin a new day. The English countryside is not what it used to be”, she says more to herself then to Paul.
Paul sat still shifting his feet as the shoes were very stiff.
“You may take them off.” she says. And he did so. The windows reached to the ceiling and let the soft rays of the sun softly filled the chamber. And speaking softly she spoke to him.
“The human condition treasures, among many things, being able to distinguish differences, she said.” Her face was saddening as she spoke, he thought.
“It is a crucial and cruel ability, but necessary If you want to survive… or defend.” She paused still looking beyond the window into the vast rose garden beyond. Paul tried not to squirm as the chair seemed to Creek, with his every slight movement he made. clearing his throat, he asks meekly, “Ma'am. Why am I here?” As his voice settles into the silence of the chamber. She without turning from the windows smiles. “First, my name is Ankine Baghdashar and I am your great, great, great great aunt. But you can call me Ankine.” As she continued to introduce herself. Paul's eyes widen as his thoughts at attempting to resolve in his mind what he had just heard cleared his throat again to interrupt her.
“Ma'am, Ma’am! I don’t understand. How can that be? That's not…” Then like a stern schoolmaster raising her finger to her mouth silently commanding his silence and getting back his attention. Coming back to the desk. She began to tell him a story.
“In the year around 1395, a commoner gave birth to a child who showed great promise in strength, will, insight and stamina. The world was cruel, untamed, and sinister then. Her clan realizing her talents as a fighter placed her when she was old enough into service as a protector, where she eventually became their Sentinel. And for many years She protected her people. Until the one day she fell, in a now long forgotten battle. As she lay facing up at her last glimpse of that day. She felt herself move from her body prone broken bloody and dead quickly into another. I found myself re-entering the world as a child as it was leaving the womb. As a child, I could only vaguely recall memories of events of places. But over time, the memories became stronger and clearer. By the time I was in my late teens. I was full of were fully aware of my past life. At first I thought this was something everyone experienced. But everyone around me seemed unwilling to talk of their previous lives and actions. My mother then informed me alarmed. That past lives didn't exist, and to speak of it, no more. She didn't believe me. She didn't believe it was possible. But her warning came too late as some of the memories I had shared made their way to a noble man, who by chance, knew of one of the incidents spoken of and wanted to give me an audience to shed more details. Upon doing so I was declared a sorceress and summarily sentenced to death. In no time at all, I was tortured to death. In my next rebirth I had learned my lesson and kept my own council. But not before incurring a wrath born of ignorance, which still follows me to this day. But at that third incarnation, as I call it now. I started life anew, penniless. I was in France at that time, it was the early days of the Renaissance and I needed to know if the people and places I recalled were real. It was then that I started recording my journeys,she says,” indicating the little black book under her hand.
The old woman peered into my eyes saying, “It was all true, and I wasn’t dreaming. Also around then banks were growing in popularity as places, things could be held safe. Today the book and the bank together allow me to communicate to myself from one life to the next. But, there are those who think my nature unnatural and work to end my perpetuation." Paul sat visibly shaken.
“Wait, wait… I think I understand this to a point Ma’am. But, Madam Akine, if you can, well, just move on should you be killed. What’s your concern? It seems simple to me you just come back and start over. I don't understand.”
“And that's precisely what I don't want to do,” said the old woman.
“The book must be protected and later, at the right time returned to me. If it is lost or destroyed or stolen or placed in the wrong hands. All of this, gesturing with her arms and palms wide, will be lost to us and all the ones like us. And now I haven’t the time to travel to the bank to deposit the book. I've fallen to the work of an old enemy. I’ve been poisoned, and will very soon die. I haven't much time left. And there are those who want to steal the secrets I’ve placed in its pages, pointing again to the little black book.
“I've chosen you for the task. When given to you, take it immediately the bank Sverige Riksbank in Zurich. So arrangements can be made for me to continue.
“Switzerland.” He says.
“Yes, They have been my bank, since their inception in 1750, and have kept my secrets faithfully.”
“How do you know, they at some later time won't have a change of heart?” says Paul. She shrugs her shoulders.
“I figure, if the Cup of the Carpenter has been safe with them so far, they're safe enough for me. Paul jaw drops slightly. Seeing the surprise on his face she says,
“You were, paying attention when I mentioned, I've been around for a long time, yes?” Then her demeanor became more serious.
“Will you do these things? In return. I will reward and take care of all your accommodations and needs. And upon depositing of the book, The bank is authorized to give you $20,000. And when my chosen becomes 21. You shall return, retrieve the book and deliver it to her.” Paul slumps forward asking,
“How old are you? I mean….” The woman chuckles saying,
“Counting the years is what most do to mark time lost, unproductive, and,or an unfulfilled passing of time. I prefer to count incarnations of which the next will be my eighth. For numbers, use your imagination. But don't be troubled my sweet nephew. People in general will deny facts truth, and the evidence in their hands if they need to believe what is more comfortable. And this is what makes them a danger to us. Now, this is why you are here. I need a family member. With the same abilities, able, and trustworthy to perform these tasks.” speaking slowly to him.” Paul had been gripping firmly the arms of his chair most of this time. This is a lot to digest, he thought. He began to think out loud,
“So, you want me, to close the gap between you and, you in another life.”
“Well said, Yes, my sweet nephew. Will you agree to this? As I've said, you will be handsomely compensated. And more importantly, you will be taught how to do the same.” It was an intriguing idea and not a bad offer either, he thought to himself. The old women smiled. She had seduced him. He wanted to know more. And she told him a little more. And after answering a battery of his questions. She told him to sleep on it. Paul retired early but could hardly sleep. At breakfast the next day they spoke again and he agreed, taking his first steps.
The old woman soon passed away and after all the ceremonies were conducted, and words spoken. He was presented at the burial with the little black book. He then pledged over her grave to do all she asked. And so it began. He followed the instructions. He deposited the book, receiving the money and now, he’d wait. He would study, travel the world and prepare. Years later, the Swiss bank called. It was time. He retrieve the book, and received an unexpected surprise receiving another $20,000 And the name of the person he was to find, “Jolene Fenner”. Paul now in his late thirties was told she would be found in Amsterdam. And after a long four month search. He had found her. Her family lived in an older part of the city along the canals. It was a bright sunny, cool day when he arrived. As he approached the home along a street of row-houses and finding the address. He rings the doorbell. An older man answers. And upon hearing Paul poorly spoken Dutch and English accent, he begins speaking in English.
“I've come to speak with a Jolene Fenner, if I may sir, says Paul, Does she live here? I’ve a package for her.” Without but a moment passing time, a young woman squeezing by the man he assumed her father, smiling at him.
“Paul. It's so good to see you again.” Paul's eyes widen and tried not be act awkwardly and smiles. Not sure how to respond. Since he'd never seen her before. But he would as instructed play along.
“Yes, Yes It's been a while.” he says. Jolene turning to her father, smiling. She began telling him, that Paul was the young man she had earlier spoken to him about when she was in England. Her father then feeling more relaxed leaves the two of them in the doorway. Jolene, giving Paul a big hug and pulling her lips close to his ear saying quietly.
“I knew you wouldn't let me down my sweet nephew.” Paul stood frozen with her in his arms for a moment, his eyes opening ever wider. As she takes him by the hand leading him into the house.
“Oh here.” Handing her the little black book.
She says, “Thank you, Now, we have much to talk about. And you have much to learn. All my secrets will now be yours.” She unlocks the Little Black Book and hands it to him.
“Your chapter will now begin.” As she closes the door.
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