only been here quite brief.”
“You would be correct that this king is other, but he is not a tyrant, yet to be feared as one is in awe of majesty. But come, let us explore what your heart seeks: truth, healing, life, peace, and love.”
Rigel led Nicholas upon a rolling hill of green. The breeze swept across the fields, swaying the green like wind on water, changing hues, a dazzling to the eye. The sun was warm, yet Nicholas looked to the sky and saw no solar disc, yet light lit the land, but somehow the light was luminous and soothing, the way a lazy afternoon feels, restful, at ease, having no particular place to be, content. Nicholas could only dredge up feelings to describe what he saw.
They traveled through the fields of green to a wooded glade where beeches and pine trees stood in rows. As Nicholas walked through the woods, images and feelings of his childhood swept through his imagination. A place of serenity, of peace, of joy. Nicholas’ heart was about to burst in joy, he almost felt like weeping. He looked at each tree in wonder, at each fern that grew. At the pine needles that blanketed the ground. His eyes were opened to a childlike wonder that he had long forgotten. The silence was a balm to his soul, yet not empty. The silence was pregnant with hope, joy, something Nicholas could not fully describe.
As they continued walking, they came upon a man kneeling amongst the trees and light, his eyes closed; a smile on his face.
“What is this man doing? Is he okay?” Nicholas said.
“He is. In his life, he never had a second to spare to enjoy the created natural beauty surrounding him. He has chosen to spend some amount of time to satisfy this deficiency within him. Then he will move on and journey further in, reaching his destination. Just as you must,” said Rigel.
“Is this paradise but a staging point?”
“In a way, yes. There is much within you that must be healed, that you must let go of,” Rigel said.
“Purgation, huh,” said Nicholas.
With that Rigel smiled and turned. “Come, over this hill, we reach the first stage. Let us go swiftly.” Rigel started running, almost gliding, dancing over the ferns and pine needles. The trees swayed toward him in his wake. Nicholas ran too. He felt light. As though a burden had been lifted. He ran, much like in a dream, without fatigue, without heaviness of breath.
They ran for what seemed several miles, stopping at a breathtaking scene. Below them lay a valley covered in mist, a stream running through it. Nicholas traced the stream with his eye upward, all the way to a mountainside that stood what seemed miles high. A rushing waterfall crashed over its side.
“We must climb the mountain, my friend,” Rigel said. “It will not be easy, but it will transform you.” With that, Rigel ran ahead; Nicholas following.
Chapter 3
Nicholas followed Rigel down the hillside and through a lush, green valley. The river always near them. They followed it as though it was a road. They ascended as the river descended. They reached the foot of the mountain where a large pool of water lay.
Nicholas dove into the water. He expected cold mountain water, but it was warm and seemed heavier than water. As he swam through the pool, his spirits lifted, an energy thrilled through him. He had not experienced this kind of thing since he had first known there was more to the world than just plain matter. When he realized there were deeper, richer, numinous things in the world. That there was a being out there, yet closer than his own beating heart who loved every created thing. This joy, which he had not felt in years surged through him.
Nicholas burst through the surface of the water as though reborn. All he could do was smile. He could not articulate anything that he was feeling.
“Thrilling isn’t it?” Rigel said. “There is much, much more of this to be known, to be experienced. Your heart, mind, spirit, your very being will transform as you journey. Some of the journey will be glorious, some will be difficult, and some will be near impossible.”
“This water . . . or whatever it is . . . is seething with life. I feel refreshed. Like that of a cold wintry waste, where all is frozen, and by Jove, a sulfur spring is bubbling nearby. Its warmth from the depth of the earth thawing the rigid, hardened soul within. This is similar, yet much more. Oh God, have I been dulled and deadened. Lord, thaw my frozen heart,” Nicholas said.
“Come, this is only a quick energizing, there is more to do,” Rigel said.
Nicholas waded to the shore. He stepped out of the water and followed Rigel up the narrow steep trail that worked its way up the mountain.
When they reached the top of the mountainside, there was a plateau. It was pitch black except for the stars. Nicholas could see billions of stars, the Milky Way, and more than he could have ever dreamed. It was more magnificent than a dark night sky dome in Colorado without a light for hundreds of miles.
“A shooting star,” Nicholas shouted. He traced it across the sky. Off in the distance, a blinding white explosion razed his eyes. “What was that?”
“You must go and see. But you may not like what you see. It is blinding, beautiful, terrible, wondrous, filled with truth. It will tell you things you’ve always wanted to know; things you are ashamed of, things you must know, but wish not to,” Rigel said.
Nicholas’ hair stood on the back of his neck. He did not want to go out into the darkness alone. Yet he knew he must. “Will you come with me?”
Rigel shook his head. “No. But I will not be far behind. When you return, your burden will be lightened.”
Nicholas slowly shuffled away into the unknown. Rigel gave Nicholas a firm, but gentle push, which compelled Nicholas to slowly jog which turned into a dash toward the distant white glow ahead.
When he reached the spot where the object fell to the ground, Nicholas could not see much besides a blinding white. He felt compelled to speak, “Hello.”
What happened next is difficult to describe. All at once, Nicholas had millions of images of his life flash in his mind’s eye. A voice spoke one word for each image: birth, life, grief, death, lust, peace, sin, anger, hatred, dread, despair, depression, fear, covetous, pain, rebirth, thanksgiving, suffering, death, resurrection, longing, yearning, joy, faith, hope, love . . . Millions of images, millions of words. Yet all within seconds. When this ended, Nicholas was dizzy, his brain overwhelmed. He had to lie down. Then a voice spoke, powerful, awful, but it was something good (which Nicholas sensed):
“You have lied with the great deceiver. Fear, despair, pain, suffering has crowded your psyche. You have fallen upon swords of defeat. You lie close to the life-giving water, but you cannot see it or hear it babbling just over the hill. Much of you lay dormant, waiting. Fear paralyzing you. He wishes you to be set free. Your chains are heavy. His yoke is light. The King speaks peace, joy, life. He delights in you. You are the work of his hands. He is peace, joy, love, life.”
Nicholas trembled as a child before a great beast, his words feeble and weak, “Are you this King Rigel speaks of?”
“No, I am but a servant.”
“A great servant. You must be the one who sits at his right side—” Nicholas was cut short.
“Silence. Only one sits at his right side. You speak near blasphemy . . . Forgive me, I have frightened you. I forget you still exist in weakness—your body has not been transformed. His message is: be set free, be transformed. I have been sent to burn away the flax, if you will. To rid you of some of the dross. You must speak, telling me all of your faults, then you will be cleansed, your lips, tongue, and hands purified.”
Nicholas turned red. Heat and blood rising to his head. “I have not told anyone any of the things I have done wrong, not since childhood when I went to confession. I only tell my faults to God . . . maybe my wife.”
The white light sighed . . . or what sounded like sighing. Nicholas did not know if this creature breathed at all. “I am the light of the evenstar. I am that which shines by day and by night.