On the Relationship between Body and Akasha.
Lightness of Cotton Fiber.
A breath of air flowed deeply into his lungs. He did not notice. Indra absorbed himself in stillness. Automatically, Sanyama continued.
On the Relationship between Body and Akasha.
Lightness of Cotton Fiber.
The words slipped into concept. The stillness absorbed the concept. He felt his body change. He felt the space around him change. He felt a kink in his shoulder.
He stretched his shoulder. The kink vanished.
On the Relationship between Body and Akasha.
Lightness of Cotton Fiber.
His attention lingered at the cusp. His body gave up its rigid structure. Space conformed to his will.
On the Relationship between Body and Akasha.
Lightness of Cotton Fiber.
The stillness obeyed desire.
Indra floated.
On Salvington, Queen Magdalene rested her elbows on her desk and her head in her hands. A tiny tongue, no wider than the width of a slimy hair, whisked across her womb, leaving behind a wave of nausea. She walked to her toilet, knelt, and threw up. It was always the same when someone as powerful as Lord Indra practiced Sanyama.
Indra did not need to open his eyes to direct his path. In his mind, his intention was already established.
Very few within The Grand Reception Hall had ever seen Indra fly. He felt the battle below him change as most stared in awe as he floated above.
Within Guru Patanjali’s many sutras, there was a method that would bend light around the Siddha, the practitioner of Sanyama, thereby rendering him invisible. But Indra knew Kuko was closing in on the twins fast. It was technically not complicated to perform sequential sutras to create a combined effect. The only requirement was additional time, and there was not enough time to stay her hand.
Kuko felt his approach. Her heart was torn. She loved and respected Indra more than any other, but she had a duty to fulfill as a Nazz mother.
She stared at her daughters, sword in hand.
They were already dead in her mind.
A second later, she felt a hand on her shoulder. “Kuko, please. Extend to me some compassion. They’re still only children.” According to Nazz law, the father of daughters had no say in this matter.
Kuko held her attention on the Erin twins as they regained their senses. She had planned to decapitate both of them and had therefore not thought how they would respond to having their faces smashed together.
“What the fuck did you do that f…” one of the Erin’s shouted.
“Wrong response,” Indra said to himself as Kuko flew at them, her sword switching hands, slicing Erin across the side of the head with a right hook. Flipping her sword to her other hand, she hit Erin with a left jab.
Both fell to the floor again.
“Stand up,” Kuko roared, as she dragged one Erin to her feet and then the other. She stood them so they faced each other.
“Take off one boot and pull down your pants and underpants. Completely off one leg,” Kuko barked, with a strap in her right hand and a sword in her left.
Both Erins started to panic when they saw how angry their mother was, standing at the ready, a blood-drenched sword in hand.
“What did we do wrong, mothe…”
“Shut up,” Kuko screamed. “Never call me that again.”
She raised the leather strap in her right hand and her sword with her left, and then in a harsh and deliberate Nazz voice said, “I am going to ask you one question, Erins. Do you want the strap or the sword?”
Both girls glanced to Indra for help. Their ever-kind and understanding father was boiling with fury, too. They looked back at Kuko. Erin swallowed hard. A litany of past misdeeds flowed through her head. So many self-indulgences. So much dereliction of duty. So many times manipulating those around them to get what they wanted. So much sneaking around to have sex when they were supposed to be working.
She lowered her head in shame. “The strap please, Madame Kiena.”
Both of them unbuckled and laid down their battle belts. They untied and removed one boot. They untied their sash and allowed their trousers to fall. They pulled down their underwear. Haltingly, they pulled one leg out. Sweat broke out on their foreheads.
Having received many well-deserved spankings in the past, they knew the position. They crossed their arms and bent forward, grasping each other’s hands, and looking into each other’s eyes.
Out of the corner of their eye, they saw Kuko sheath her sword, then wiggle the strap. She was not going to kill them, but they knew what they were about to receive would not be meaningless like previous whippings.
The strap whipped through the air.
Erin cried out. The level of pain was beyond anything she could have imagined. Erin saw the pain in her sister’s eyes and tried to ready herself as Kuko switched hands.
The strap zinged as it cut through the air again. It felt as if someone had grabbed her flesh with pliers and ripped it off.
Erin screamed.
“Shut up,” Kuko shrieked. Her right hand let fly another layer of red agony just a millimeter below the previous.
Erin bit her lip, trying her best not to further disgrace herself by crying out.
Castor subtly gestured to Kuko who nodded in agreement. He removed two cylinders of leather from his belt and held one in front of Erin’s mouth. She bit into it. He repeated the same with the other Erin. Castor made a gesture to the Nazz in their vicinity. Immediately, the Nazz encircled the two Erins, turning their backs to create a wall so the punishments could continue without distracting anyone. Two members of the wall separated, and Castor began ushering in a group of one-eared archers.
Erin bit down hard on the leather as she waited her turn. She heard the strap coming. Her flesh seared.
Again and again, the strap found their bare buttocks. Both felt like they would throw up. Both felt like it would be impossible for their shaking knees to hold them. Occasionally, one of their admirers, forced to watch, reflexively reached forward to steady them. Every time they reached, they found the edge of Castor Mayhew’s sword at their wrists, coaxing them to step back.
Erin and Erin felt it would be impossible to endure another sear of pain. But again and again the cruel strap flew against bare skin. Finally, Kuko spoke. “Now. I’m going to give you something to remember me by. In the future, whenever you look back and ask yourselves if you ever had a mother, this is what you will remember. You will remember the vagina with pain. You will remember what it’s like when the products of your vagina turn against everything you hold dear. Now, spread your legs.”
Oh please don’t, the thought raced through Erin’s mind.
“Come on girls,” Kuko said sarcastically, “If there’s any one thing you know how to do, it’s spread your legs. Now wider.”
No. No. Please.
“Now you’ll feel some real pain. Know from this day forward, I will never speak to you again as my daughters.”
The strap flicked like a bullwhip. Sickness arose in Erin. Her mind grew dark.
Erin saw agony dance across her sister’s face. She tried to imagine what pain awaited her. She wanted to scream before the strap hit but instead, she bit hard on the leather cylinder. She looked at the good and kind mother she once knew, but instead, found a completely cold face. As a blood covered black glove wiggled the strap, Erin knew she was now an orphan; her only value — a messenger of failure.
The strap flew.
Pain screamed through her body, consciousness evaporated. She collapsed on the floor with her sister.
Kuko tied the strap around her waist, and whipped around to face Indra. She hung her head. “My Lord. I have many times asked things of you which I did not deserve.”
Indra remained silent.
Kuko kept her head down.
“May I be permitted to ask for one additional favor?”
“Yes. Of course,” Indra replied withou
t hesitation.
Kuko looked up, eyes red. “Please, my Lord. Never ask me to get pregnant again.”
Indra closed his eyes and shook his head in dismay. “I grant you your request.”
“Now, please, my Lord. If you will excuse me. Since it is so clear I am an utter failure as a mother, perhaps I can redeem myself as a warrior.”
Chapter 72
Why Assume the Worst When all You Have to do is Ask?
There is a very good reason why they’re called the Terrible Angirasas.
—Marije
Oceania
"Action. Inaction.”
A dark creature stood in the shadows of the trees. He looked upon the dance floor outside Bill’s Clear Creek Grill, watching as some danced, while others stood and talked, others stood in silence, others sat while talking, and yet others simply sat, some drinking, some smoking, some doing both, some doing neither. The dark creature tried to comprehend what he saw. Was there a connecting thread?
“Those in action are interacting. Are those in inaction interacting?”
It was confusing.
“Surely there is an effect,” the dark creature considered, for he saw that for everyone who was apparently not acting, at least one individual was occasionally looking upon them.
“There is interaction with those in action. There is interaction with those in inaction. Yes, this is now obvious. There is an outcome to inaction, just as there is an outcome to action. Does not outcome denote karma? Therefore, there is karma as a result of inaction, just as there is karma as a result of action.”
This seemed correct to the dark creature.
“Action and inaction. Both are different. Both are the same.”
The dark creature considered his next step. “Should I again engage in action?” In the past, his engagement in action had created dire outcomes. He quite recently witnessed the slaughter of millions of Celestial Meur creatures because of his action. He was therefore reluctant to engage in action again.
“I am, just now, the observer of action. I am also the observer of inaction. Yes, but I am a silent observer, not participating. Should I continue to remain separate from action?”
It was an important decision. “Could there again be dire consequences if I engage in action?”
“No. This is an illogical conclusion. As I have just discovered, karma is the outcome of both action and inaction. Observation is participation. Therefore, I have already engaged in action. I have already created karma. And did not the Angelic ruler extend an offering for Meshak to engage in participation?”
Meshak took a single step toward the dance floor, stopped, and watched. He saw a subtle turn in the nature of the action he had been witnessing. Some individuals immediately saw him and turned their attention to him, and as that turning of attention occurred, there was a propagation of action, a ripple that affected some, but not others.
“Those whom now look upon Meshak have changed their actions, therefore there shall be outcomes. Those who have not changed their action are still within the bonds of action, as their non-change in action will surely create action. Therefore, because Meshak has engaged in action, there will be outcomes, just as there would have been outcomes if Meshak had remained in the shadows.”
This conclusion was self-evident.
“Meshak’s action. Meshak’s inaction. Both are different. Both are the same. Both are inevitable.”
Meshak walked toward the dance floor.
“Meshak,” a voice cried out. Meshak turned toward the voice and saw a familiar green face sprinting toward him. She leapt, grabbed him, and knocked him to the ground. A rock-hard Angelic body lay on top of him with soft Angelic lips pushed up against his.
“Josie said she invited you. I’m so glad you came,” Brigettie said, and then kissed him again.
He looked at her face. He found her rich green face beautiful. His skin remained black, but his eyes subtly changed to a light shade of green to match hers.
“For some time, Meshak was stuck within the domain of uncertainty. Now, experiencing the pleasurable outcome of action, Meshak wonders why he delayed so long.”
Captain Brigettie Sachiel knew Meshak well and how all Angirasas paused to think before entering into the Celestial realm. She also knew what happened when the Angirasas entered the Celestial realm propelled by anger. Many Angels had witnessed those horrifying outcomes with their own eyes — a very good reason to be on edge while around them.
Like Brigettie, there were numerous Angels who felt perfectly comfortable with certain Angirasas — freely calling Angirasas such as Isaac and Seth, brother. But to Brigettie, Meshak never felt like a brother.
“Meshak, I would very much like to make love to you later tonight, but right now, I want to dance. Will you dance with me?”
For several moments, Brigettie continued to lie on top of Meshak, gently studying his face. She knew, whatever his decision, he must thoroughly digest what possible outcomes the next moments of action would inevitably generate. She had proposed an outcome of this evening’s actions. He would consider these outcomes. He would consider several possible paths of action that would lead to these outcomes. She also knew if he said no, she could still talk to him about it. So far, he had never refused her.
“Yes…”
Angirasas had great difficulty with names unless it was the names of other Angirasas. If rushed, they became extremely aggravated. An aggravated Angirasa was not the most pleasant of beasts, so Brigettie just continued to smile as she lay on top of him.
“…Brigettie. Yes, Brigettie,” he finally said. Even though he remembered her face and their past interactions, he had to thoroughly convince himself that the name of this one was indeed, Brigettie.
Just as native Celestial creatures have difficulty perceiving the Angirasa realm, those in the Angirasa realm have difficulty perceiving the Celestial. This was particularly true with faces.
Even for those Angels who could clearly see the Angirasas when they manifested themselves, they could have difficulty in distinguishing between faces, even with Angirasas they had known for a very long time. Because of these difficulties, rules of engagement were long ago established.
For someone to leap upon an Angirasa the way Brigettie had just done was a rarity, but one of Brigettie’s special abilities was her knowledge and perception of Angirasa.
In a single motion, Brigettie leaned back, came to her feet while grasping Meshak’s hands, and pulled him from the sand.
“Whoops, I got you all sandy,” she said as she brushed off his back, reminding herself not to say, ‘I’m sorry’. To the Angirasas, even the simplest apologies translated poorly, just as self-deprecation did. Saying ‘I’m sorry’ translated to an Angirasa as, ‘I want to be sorry, so make me sorry.’ It was not a request you made to one of the Terrible Angirasas.
Because communication was so difficult, most Angels in the Celestial never spoke to the Angirasas, just as many Angirasas never spoke to Angels. Of course, in a war zone, these difficulties were compounded since Angirasas frequently appeared and consumed the enemy, transporting them directly to a prison sphere.
Brigettie hurriedly pulled him to the center of the dance floor. For a moment, they stood together, holding each other’s hands, facing each other as others danced around them. This, too, was a familiar routine. Brigettie stood in front of Meshak, enjoying herself while watching him turn, his delicate green eyes scanning around him. He observed how those around him were moving so his own movements would blend in with the others. Meshak knew that if his movements did not flow with the others and he were to run into an Angel, an Angel could become quite upset to suddenly find themselves staring into a black nothingness.
As Meshak began to move, Brigettie followed his patterns. More than most others, Meshak had a beautifully elegant flow to his dancing. There were never any crude gyrations or abrupt gestures — just a smooth glide around the floor — never once running into anyone. However, that did not mean his movements
were in any way synchronized with the music. Celestial music did not translate very well either.
“Did I ever tell you about what happened the last time I was dancing with your brother, Abendigo?”
Again, Brigettie did not rush him to answer.
“No,” he finally answered.
“Did Abendigo ever tell you he and I are lovers?” This was also an important thing to say up front. Not because of jealousy. Angirasas did not experience jealousy in the way Angels and Ascenders could experience this sin. Rather, it was a simple matter of comprehension. Meshak was trying to create a matrix of concepts into which he could fit his previous understandings of Abendigo and Brigettie. Unless that type of intimacy was known right from the beginning, the matrix of concepts he was creating could be flawed. Since it was quite complicated to translate concepts between the Angirasa realm and Celestial realm, it would be upsetting for him to later have to severely modify it.
“No. I did not know that.”
“Oh yes. He made me very happy,” Brigettie said, pulling herself closer to him. She knew it would make Meshak happy to understand that Abendigo had made her happy.
“Yes, my love for my brother runs deep.” Then he looked at her and smiled. “My love for Brigettie runs deep.”
She pressed against him even tighter. “That is a wonderful thing to understand. Now Meshak is making me very happy. My love of Meshak runs deep.”
For several minutes, they glided across the floor.
“The last time you danced with brother Abendigo?”
She knew he would eventually come back to her question, even if it were several hours, or even several days later.
“We were dancing together on this very floor, but my experience was quite different than my experience with you right now. Your movements are flowing with the Angels and Melchizedeks and the others around us.” Always good to add, ‘and the others’. If you qualify only Angels and Melchizedeks and then an Angirasa perceives an Artisan, they can become confused.
“You and I are flowing together. This is different than when I was last dancing with Abendigo here on this very floor. I did not initially notice where he was looking. Later it became clear he was not observing the Angels and Melchizedeks and the others. He was observing the birds flying around us. He was attempting to synchronize his movements with them.”
Lilith: Eden's Planetary Princess (The Michael Archives Book 1) Page 59
