Reluctant Gods

by A.J. Aaron

  “The only true wisdom is in knowing you know nothing.”

  Socrates

  5

  What is that ringing? I was half-awake when I realized it must be the alarm. No, it’s Sunday. I picked up the phone.

  “Hello?”

  “Hello. This is Alexander Nefedov. I am, was, your great grandmother, Aysel’s, lawyer and financial administrator. Are you Sevilen Decarain?”

  His voice was deep and commanding, yet respectful and gentle.

  “Yes, that’s me.”

  “Mr. Decarain, I am sorry to have to deliver this over the phone, but there is much to do. You see, your Ninee Aysel passed away last night. Evidently, in her sleep. The night before, she called to pick up some papers in the morning. She asked me to meet her at her house at seven, so I was concerned when no one answered. As it was, the door was open and I went inside. I found her and Emily lying peacefully, and quite cold, in her bedroom upstairs. I called the undertaker and, since you are the listed beneficiary of her assets, I have called you.”

  “Beneficiary? Aysel and Emily are dead?”

  “Yes, yes, so sorry.”

  “I just saw her yesterday. Oh my God. She looked and acted fine and so did Emily...Aysel said she was going somewhere.”

  I’d sensed it was the last time I’d see her, but I never thought her and Emily would commit suicide.

  “Mister Decarain. Are you still there?”

  “Yes, yes, what can I do?”

  “Nothing right now. I will handle everything. You see, I have handled your family’s financial and other dealings for many years. If you choose to keep me, I would be honored to serve you, as I did Aysel and the others.”

  “Of course, Mister…”

  “Please, my lord, call me Alexander.”

  “My lord? No. Call me Sevilen, Alexander.”

  “Yes, Sevilen. I see you are like the others. You have humility and you are able to relate to the commoner.”

  “I am a commoner.”

  “Indubitably not, sir. There is one thing. Your Ninee left a handwritten note for you by her bedside. I can deliver it, or you can pick it up.”

  “I’ll pick it up.”

  “Okay. I will wait at the house for you and keep it safe until you arrive. Take your time. I can take care of things from here.”

  “Thanks.”

  “No thanks necessary, my lo...Sevilen.”

  I raced to shower and dress, grabbing a handful of cashews on my way out the door for a quick breakfast. I had a feeling my life had taken a complete turn and would never be the same again. After yesterday, and now this guy calling me lord, it was as if I was on a runaway freight train.

  I drove up the switchback driveway, through the oaks, up the hill to the house. Oh my God had it changed. Gutters hanging down, broken front porch, slate stairs in disrepair sliding down the hill with the railing lying on top of them. The griffins lay on their sides. I made my way to the door, walked over the holes in the porch, and went to pull the bell cord that wasn’t there. I tried to knock on the door as it opened.

  “Lord Sevilen. I am Alexander.”

  Six foot six, dark skinned with black hair and eyes. His warm smile softened an otherwise intimidating exterior. He wore an impeccable black wool pinstriped suit. His firm handshake was connected to his eyes as he looked deeply into mine, took my arm in his other hand, and shook it. He smiled at me as if we were old friends.

  “Lord Sevilen…I’m uncomfortable with that title.”

  “Sorry, sir, I am not used to addressing a person of your abilities and stature any differently, but I can learn. It does not help that you look like someone I’d always called lord. Please forgive me.”

  “Yes, forgiven. Go on.”

  “I am so pleased to meet you and to have the honor of continuing my services. Please come in and I will show you.” He was nearly bubbling with excitement rather than filled with grief.

  I stepped through the doorway and into the scent of a dark, dank old house. There was no trace of Aysel’s fragrance or the homey scents that welcomed me yesterday.

  The room where she’d danced was worn and tattered. A stained and oxidized silver tea set sat on the coffee table. Alexander motioned for me to sit on the ragged horsehair couch by the decayed coffee table. He sat beside me and took a stack of papers from the table.

  His dark eyes radiated warmth and caring. He smiled and paused as if he couldn’t believe I was there. “It is so good to meet you. You cannot imagine how pleased I am to be working with you.”

  Grinning, he stared at me for a moment, and then focused on the papers. “This is a listing of the assets that will be passed to you. It is only a portion of the wealth of the family legacy, but it is the portion used by the Designated One. You are the Designated One now. Lady Aysel was the Designated One until her passing. The rest of the assets of the family are in a trust for access by any other family member, should the need arise. However, it is not usually touched, as all have to make their way. The Designated One requires the portion they have as a resource to aid them in their duties.”

  Designated One? I looked at the list. Stocks and bonds, gold and silver, major holdings in major corporations, cash in different currencies, all with a value listed. Huge amounts. I flipped to the last page of the spreadsheet. My heart raced.

  “Is that true? Those assets?”

  “Yes, sir. Of course, they are already worth more than when that was printed. I presented you with a file copy instead of taking the time to print a new one. I hope you don’t mind.”

  “Tell me the number. How much?”

  “Somewhere around seventy-seven billion.”

  “Billion? And that’ss only part of it?”

  “The part that goes to you, the rest fuels the main fund and is a backup for this fund.”

  “Seventy-seven b-b-b-billion. What could anyone possibly do with all of that money?”

  “First, quit your job. Then perform the duties of the Designated One.”

  “Quit my job? What the hell? This is all so overwhelming. What does a Designated One do?”

  “You’ll know what to do,” Alexander said quite matter-of-factly. I looked at him as I tried to make sense of things. His big eyes blinked slowly. I looked around the house.

  “Alexander, why is the house such a wreck? Yesterday it was perfect.”

  “Aysel was rather frugal. Since her magic was so powerful, she never needed to take care of physical things. She created whatever she wanted.”

  “Magic? So she didn’t look fortysomething?”

  “She looked however she intended to. She could change your perception of her or change her physical body. You see, Lady Aysel was highly developed spiritually. She had learned everything there was to know. In the eastern terms, they would say she was the fully opened lotus, or Samadhi. She is a magi, mystic, messiah, a god in her own right. She could heal, walk on water—use the laws of nature to her desire.”

  He waited for me to respond, but I couldn’t. I stared at him with my jaw hanging. He loosened his tie, nodded, and went on.

  “Einstein’s equation of E=MC squared—energy (E) equals mass (M) times the speed of light (C) squared—says that matter and energy are the same, one can be converted to the other. She could do that and she tapped into the universe’s energy the way the Designated One always has. She could increase her will stream to equal to her consciousness stream and thus tap into any other consciousness and create changes.”

  “You mean like change peoples’ perceptions or memories?”

  His eyebrows rose. “Very good, my lord. Excuse me, sir, Sevilen. Your obvious education and intelligence will do you well.” He patted my shoulder like a proud father and continued.

  “If you’re interested, there are a number of good sources to help your engineering brain better understand this. Dr. Evan Harris Walker is the author of ‘The Physics of Consciousness’. He has a doctorate in Physics and has made major contributions in astronomy, physics, neu
rophysiology, psychology and medicine, and founded the Walker Cancer Institute. He has published over a hundred papers in scientific journals and holds a dozen patents. He speaks of the will stream and the consciousness stream.

  “Then there is ‘The Seat of the Soul’ by Gary Zakov, a quantum physicist. There are many other resources, as well, to help validate and explain the way Aysel and her kind do these things. Quantum physics has come close to explaining this phenomenon, as our consciousness wouldn’t exist without a quantum exchange. Does this help any?”

  “I guess. It sounds pretty out of this world, though I do like your scientific approach to the answer.”

  “Lady Aysel said I should learn these things for you, since you were an engineer and might feel better in the world of science. Don’t worry, there is a saying that when the student is ready, the teacher will appear. I believe you are ready, or Aysel would not have given you the things she did.”

  Alexander reached into his suit pocket. With both hands and a bow of his head, he presented a folded piece of old linen stationary. The kind someone would write a love letter on years ago, years before the days of e-mail and phones, when it took days to deliver. Then, when it finally arrived, the reader connected to their lover through the handwriting, the essence they may have scented it with, and the saturation of the writer’s love.

  I caressed the linen, a faded yellowish color. I opened it. It had a hand painted rose at the top. The handwriting made me melt. It was a formal, graceful scroll of penmanship, impeccably feminine and beautiful to look at. The kind of script no one has time to learn today. I brought it to my nose, nothing. After a moment, I began to read it to myself.

  Sevilen,

  I was so pleased to see you today. I am leaving this note just as a reminder that all is as it should be. Do not mourn me. I’m fine. We will meet again very soon. Now you have all the resources, and you are the Designated One. Learn well. Trust Alexander as I have.

  Love and Light,

  Aysel

  As I read the last words, I smelled Aysel’s lavender and frankincense fragrance. I sniffed the paper and it wasn’t there. I sniffed the air. Alexander put his hand on my shoulder.

  “Lady Aysel put her energy into that note and where her energy goes, so will her fragrance. Just as some say that when an angel is near, one can smell sweetness. It is an indication of their ethereal abilities.”

  “Why would she and Emily commit suicide? She seemed to have everything, along with youth.”

  “It wasn’t suicide. They only gave up their mortal shell. Answers will come. You’ll see, my lord. Sorry...Sevilen.” Alexander still looked joyous, as if he had met a long-lost friend. His happiness radiated. It was a little unsettling.

  “Don’t be unsettled, my lord. Relax.”

  Did he just read my mind?

  “Is there a museum room upstairs?”

  “Yes, I suppose you could call it that.”

  “Can I go see it again?”

  “You can do whatever you’d like. Everything here is yours. You are the Designated One.”

  “Would you come with me?”

  “I’d be honored.”

  I folded the letter from Aysel and placed it in my pocket as we both started upstairs, following the path Aysel and I had taken the day before. The door looked the same; the only thing that hadn’t decayed.

  “Do you have her rings, Alexander? The key was in the ring, I think.”

  Alexander chuckled and said, “No…you have the key.”

  “I don’t. Aysel waved her hand over it. It must have been an electronic key in her ring. I don’t have it.”

  Alexander smiled and patted me on the shoulder.

  “I forget you don’t remember yet. This isn’t an earthly key or some mechanical or electrical connection. You are one of the few who can open it. You need to only think it open. Feel inside for the hidden bolts, which no one can reach, and slide them open. It’s very simple for you.”

  I stood staring at him with what I’m sure was a lost look on my face. For long enough, I guessed, because he took my hand and waved it over the door.

  “Like that. See the bolts inside. See them move as you pass your hand over. You can. Feel it, don’t think it. Trust me. Remember?”

  Alexander seemed to be enjoying this and was quite patient. I waved my hand and felt silly. Nothing. I waved again. Nothing. I looked at the door and closed my eyes. I could see the bolt inside. I pointed at it and motioned with my finger. I saw it move inside, and I heard a CLUNK. I flipped my finger back, CLUNK.

  I looked at Alexander and he laughed. “Very good. Now do it with your eyes open. You don’t want to have to close your eyes every time you use your skills.”

  I did as he asked and sure enough, the door unlocked. He turned the crystal knob and opened it.

  The room was almost empty this time. There were only two paintings on the wall. One of myself, or the old namesake, and the one next to it that I passed by yesterday.

  “Where did it all go?”

  “You haven’t uh…downloaded it yet, so to speak. You will. The two portraits are here because you’ve downloaded them. The rest of the items were here due to Lady Aysel. Did Lady Aysel show you these?”

  “Just the one that looks like me.”

  “Then you already had information given to you if you can see the other. Let’s look closer.”

  We walked past the monitor and it again said “CLOSE DOOR”, which Alexander did. I walked up to the raven-haired painting. As I approached, I saw the gossamer, indigo blue, ethereal gown. It revealed her form completely. I looked into her eyes, at her lips, her skin.

  “She’s real? I had a dream about her yesterday.”

  “She’s very real. Her name, as well as yours, is the same as they were in the 1400s. Leyna and Sevilen.”

  “Her name is Leyna?”

  He looked me in the eye to be sure I heard him correctly and went on. “Yes, Leyna. She’s somewhere on this planet, but there’s a problem, for she is as you were yesterday. Unaware. She hasn’t fully developed her potential yet. You have some of your powers, once you waken to them, an inheritance if you will, from the Sevilen in the painting. An inheritance worth much more than your monetary assets. Did she say something in the dream?”

  “Yes, a lot, but mainly that I needed to find her.”

  “You will. Aysel will help. You two were together before. In order to help her, you’ll need to take her through the gates, of which there are seven. It seems she can’t get past the third and totally misuses the abilities she has obtained from one and two. Then, the two of you will be again as you were, and a powerful force for good.”

  “Gates?”

  “Gates. Doors. Have you heard of Chakras?”

  “Some. New age nonsense, isn’t it?”

  “No, more like ancient. It will be in your downloads, I’m sure.”

  I glanced at the paintings again. They were definitely something to behold. I looked around the room at the other blank walls staring back as if I had stolen their property. Download, hmm.

  “Well, Alexander, when is this download supposed to occur?”

  “I am not certain, sir. You’ll know when it happens.”

  “Well, what should I do?”

  “Whatever you wish.”

  “Give me a hint. What would you do?”

  “Hmm, I think I would fix this house back up.” He gazed around the parlor. “Physically, that is. So you can present it properly to your visitors. I would also prepare a resignation letter and terminate your present employment. I would keep that stone and those rings with you always, purchase some new clothes, and a new vehicle. Aysel didn’t use vehicles, but it’s good to not always rely on magic, especially now when it would be too much strain for you to manage all that. Lastly, I’d say, ‘Alexander, my friend and loyal assistant, please take care of these things for me.’ And I shall.”

  He stood there smiling, as I perceived his warmth, loyalty, and caring. I couldn’
t help but like him, imposing as he might seem. What choice did I have really? My instinct said to trust him implicitly.

  He tilted his head as I stared blankly at him.

  He asked, “Sir?”

  I ignored him, lost in thought.

  “Sir? Are you okay? It will all make sense soon.”

  “Yes, of course. I’m fine. Please, Alexander. Handle it for me.”

  He smiled and pulled his shoulders back, took my right hand in his, put his left hand on my forearm and shook my hand vigorously. “Good choice, my lo...I mean...I shall begin forthwith, sir.”