Eternally hers

And the Light Burns

After my little breakdown, Aja decided it was best for me to rest.

"Give you mind a chance to fully absorb everything," she said.

Getting up and inclining her head for me to follow. I expected her to take me back to the room I was in earlier but she bypasses the door. As we walk through her home I take notice that there isn't a kitchen and I haven't seen a bathroom.

"Why am I not sleepy or hungry?" I ask. "Why haven't I had the need to go to the bathroom?"

"Things work differently here," she says with a smile. 

"How so?"

She looks over at me as she continues to walk. Her eyes scanning over me before meeting my own.

"You have to remember that your body isn't really here," she says. "This place is for the metaphysical form to be free and unburdened while the substantial form rests. You are completely disembodies here."

"My body is with Kiara?"

"I guess," she says.

We arrive at a door. Looking around the part of her home before we enter, I see nothing but windows. All overlooking a quarter of her land outside.She open the door and I see my judgement was semi correct. The room itself opens up to the outside. It is completely open on three walls. Only the side connected to the house is closed off. It has a mesh covering on the other three sides. The ceiling is also covered with the same mesh material.

"What is this room?" I ask looking at her.

"This will be your sanctuary for the remainder of your stay." Is all she tells me. Casting her eyes back in my direction. "Get some rest. Later if you want we can go tour the lands around here. You are not a prisoner."

"I bet."

"You're not," she states. "There are tons of other being around here. You are more than welcome to go out and socialize."

Giving me a pointed look, she exits the room, gently closing the door behind her.

Looking around the room, I see a futon. There is nothing of any true entertainment. No tv. No radio. thinking about it, I suppose not. There is no way to have access to earthly conveniences in this realm.What good would it do? Oddly enough though, there are books. Tons of because. I walk over to the shelf and randomly grab one. Scanning over the beautifully crafted cover, I take note to the engraving of the cover. Makkāvukku karuṇai(Mercy to Mecca)  the title reads. I open the book, and see that it is handwritten. Most of it in a language that I don't know. Replacing the book, I grab another, Mutal rājā(the First King), it is also handwritten. Randomly grabbing books off the shelf I notice that they are all handwritten.

Something catched my eyes, I slowly move over to peer at it. Gold shimmering letters mock me, Makkāviṉ mutal makaṉ(The First Son of Mecca),  pulling it off the shelf, I grasp it in my hand, as I make my way to the futon. Opening the book, I can't understand what is written. I blink suddenly because the words are taking new form. I can understand them. Flipping through the book rather quickly, I see all the words through the book changing. I go back to the front and read. The inside inscription changes and the words screams at my soul. I feel like I'm taking a peek into someone's private thoughts or life just from reading it.

Makkāviṉ mutal makaṉ ātit, 

maṉṉar cirāyuvāl iyakkappaṭṭatu. Makkāviṉ cim'mācaṉattiṟku mutal maṉṉar. 

 Nīṅkaḷ yār eṉpatai eppōtum maṟakkātīrkaḷ.

To Adit, the First Son of Mecca,