Compare all knowledge to your truth.
Zadek had returned to his chamber. He needed to assimilate the new pathway. He lay in bed, sensing his body as a heavy, solid mass within his being, which was much larger and extended all around. Drawing self-soothing, long breaths, he closed his eyes. Luminous pulsations in blue and white were zooming past him. Gateways, he acknowledged.
This was a delicate stage of the process whereby a new Time-band was added to his awareness. It had to be handled carefully, or else his mental and structural integrity would be irrevocably damaged, slipping chaotically – and possibly incompletely – from one Time-band to another in endless loops that would transform him into a lump of undecided space that Time abruptly visits and retreats from.
He felt increased pressure in his cranium, especially in the occipital bone, underneath which the bending streaks of thin, white-blue lights reunited as if into a nexus at his lower skull. It was necessary to stay calm and be aware of each and all, while at the same time find an anchor to the present Time-reality.
Patience, transmitted Omiran.
He must not fall asleep, for dreaming would most certainly draw him into one of the streaks – or worse, into multiple ones. Focusing on his breath, he allowed himself to neither think nor count, and felt his chest and eyelids vividly; his jaw relaxed. He tuned in to the room, expanding his awareness as if it were arms reaching for the walls, which it sensed and touched, whereas his breath was gently lifting his chest cavity and lowering it back again; the mattress curved fluidly underneath his physical body, and underneath his bed was the floor and then the inferior floor, where –
No.
He regrouped, focusing again on his skull, his breath, the stability of the walls, deciding upon their solidness.
How long had it been? Better not wander, for Time knew itself, yet Time was unfathomably larger than a minute individual aboard a ship. He had a fleeting aerial view of Umbar, luminous and oval, hovering by the edge of Seremna, then his awareness was quick to return and reground within himself, the airflow into and out of his lungs, the continuous white-blue currents into and out of his skull in an orchestra of knowing and being one with Time.
Clock-brain prevalence had receded from all analysis functions and was in stand-by. Observance without interference. This was a process entirely governed by Omiran, and he must not interfere with the intricate weaving of a new sequence of spacetime in the fabric of his awareness. That's why sensing his own presence was useful, for it allowed Zadek to be aware without judging himself or his whereabouts.
It was key to stay calm, for the dynamics of the brain were easily disturbed by lack of peace, each such stirring shooting arrows of thought in its direction, which could potentially amount to a battlefield of thought-arrows shot everywhere and a consequent loss of energy, which was pivotal at this time and could not be spared aimlessly. His focus returned to his parietal lobe, his neck and shoulders, scanning his body through sense, but not labelling, all the way to his toes and floor, curving back from the wall, along the ceiling and back into his parietal lobe, thereupon starting once more.
Overlapping this observance sequence, Zadek's awareness was monitoring his breath, letting it pursue whichever gentle pace it so desired; back along the wall, the ceiling –
It is time, transmitted Omiran.
The transit-leap.
As though powered by an astronomic grid, Zadek's circuits soared into fullness and he jumped into blazing whiteness – the access gateway of all-Time – and expanding, lifting, was being pulled through – ever expanding, soaring into deeper light – white-blue ribbons of time, channel-gateways, zooming by in low-pitched hums – and the magnetic distance was pulling him nearer – jumping, soaring past parallel Time-bands, he went – increased power, heightened feeling, greater upward plunge – Omiran was pulling him past his level-grid into the higher – luminosity grew, speed increased, streaks of Time zooming by in continuous, fast-paced hums – and then faster still, till all Time-bands seemed to gather in one high-pitched sound – and he jumped and landed.
Whiteness all beneath, clear night sky above, Zadek turned and smiled, spreading his arms out in gratitude to Omiran. They had managed: he was now an 05.
Omirions have different levels of being one with Time - or Omiran - their Maker, and they perceive much through timelines. How do you think Zadek's life will change? Are you one who welcomes changes to flow naturally in yours? I'm more of a comfort-zone lover myself, yet I do appreciate and welcome in some changes.
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Planet B-17: The Beginnings
FantasyA fantasy space opera in multidimensional reality. Highest rankings so far: #7 in sci-fi #6 in fantasy