Galactic Standard Date: 152,323.07 AE
Ascended Realms
Asclepius – an old god
Asclepius
“Asclepius, I have a favor to ask…”
“What is it, old friend?"
Asclepius reached out with the neutrinos comprising his consciousness to mingle with his fellow old god. Despite being an ascended being, Hashem had chosen to remain bogged down in the heavier, semi-corporeal state of the material realm. It took a long time, in ascended deity terms, to communicate with his brethren. Asclepius waited for Hashem to finish pulling his physical form through the barrier that separated matter from what mortals called the spirit-world.
“You're a physician,” Hashem said. “I need your help.”
“You know it's forbidden for me to interfere unless I descend, like you,” Asclepius said. “But perhaps I could answer questions. What do you need?”
“I need help saving the life of a small child,” Hashem said. “I'm a geneticist, not a physician. I can improve life from its building blocks, but I'm not good at saving life it if things go wrong. The child is dying.”
“You were warned when you spliced together your armies that there would be consequences,” Asceplius said. "The species were genetically incompatible. You should have followed your own dogma and allowed them to evolve those traits naturally."
“The child is innocent,” Hashem said. “I don't believe SHE would hold a tiny infant responsible for my mistakes.”
“Who is this child?” Asceplius asked.
“The son of my highest ranking general,” Hashem said. “He has the wasting sickness. We haven't been able to figure out why some children simply lose the will to live.”
Asceplius sighed, pondering how much to tell. Integrated into the consciousness of She-who-is, fully ascended beings began to approach omniscience. Not true omniscience, as the knowledge they had access to was either via their own connections, or those belonging to the goddess. But it was close enough that whenever they focused their thoughts upon a single problem, all available information sprang into their minds unless, for some reason, SHE did not know or wished to keep that information secret.
“Why do you choose to remain in an in-between state when you could have the power other ascended beings possess?” Asclepius asked, not for the first time.
“Each galaxy has old gods who refuse to leave,” Hashem said. “It’s not like she prevents me from ascending.”
“Unlike that old rascal Shay’tan!” Asclepius snorted. "It tickles HER fancy to keep a dragon for a pet!"
“You could always descend,” Hashem suggested. “I would really enjoy some company down there. It's lonely being the only ascended being in the galaxy besides Shay’tan.”
“And I would pay the same price you have paid,” Asclepius said. “Ignorance. It takes time to pull a physical form back and forth between the realms. I don't like being disconnected from the stream-of-consciousness of She-who-is.”
“Will you help me?" Hashem's thought patterns approached a state of pleading. “I have gone and botched things and now the child of my only real friend is paying the price.”
“She-who-is wouldn't target a child for your meddling,” Asclepius said. “It’s not like you're the only old god who amuses himself by dabbling in the material realms.”
“I don't think SHE will mind if you enlighten me,” Hashem said. “Do you have any idea what causes the wasting sickness?”
“When you created your armies,” Asceplius said. “You created physical shells enticing enough to lure spiritual consciousnesses out of the upper realms to finish evolving. When you did so, you bound yourself, and them, to the rules of the material realm.”
“I don't understand,” Hashem said. “What does that have to do with the wasting sickness?”
“Why do you refuse to leave your naturally evolved subjects to fend for themselves?” Asceplius asked.
“They are like my own children,” Hashem said. “To abandon them like you and the others have done … I just couldn't.”
“Then why do you demand that the beings you created do what you, yourself refuse to do?” Asceplius scolded. “They incarnated back into mortal form to experience the pleasures of the material realm … and then you turned around and denied it to them. They are not cattle to be bred for slaughter so you can perpetuate your own military might!”
“But the hybrids face extinction,” Hashem said. “Within three generations, they will die out. I lost the root race.”
“If I tell you how to save this child,” Asceplius warned, “there will be consequences. What Jophiel does, the others will follow.”
“If her child dies,” Hashem said. “It will have the same result. Jophiel begged me not to give up this child. She wishes to be with the father and raise him as her ancestors did before inbreeding became a problem. If the child dies, I'll lose her anyways.”
“The inbreeding is your own fault,” Asceplius scolded. “The hybrid races lived naturally until your constant intrigues with Shay’tan forced them all into the military. Is it any wonder the lifesparks are refusing to inhabit the shells you offer them anymore?”
“How can I fix this problem?” Hashem asked.
“As you're so fond of saying, old friend,” Asceplius answered, “It's your choice. You must decide whether to allow Jophiel to follow her heart, or allow her child to die so that you can maintain the status quo. Either way, the current course is unsustainable.”
“Jophiel is like a daughter to me,” Hashem said. “I choose to pay the price. How do I solve this problem?”
“You created the hybrids out of mammals,” Asceplius said. “Mammals will choose starvation over the denial of physical comfort. In your effort to maintain genetic diversity, you have forgotten this fact. You separated them from each other, into cold, sterile environments, until the most physical amongst them have started to waste away.”
Hashem pondered the solution Asceplius suggested.
“I could never understand this need to be touched,” Hashem said. “But I see it in my experiments all the time. I have spliced together countless perfect adaptations, only to have them die when their parents reject them.”
Asclepius resisted the urge to chastise Hashem about his cluelessness. The other old gods jokingly called Hashem a trans-dimensional alien. Never been in the material realms before, didn't 'get' it. Hashem spent too much time living in his own head and not enough in the ‘real’ world even though he'd chosen to linger in the material realm. It was rumored that She-who-is had paired the not too 'street-smart' Hashem to play against the earthy Shay’tan on a wager with the Dark Lord.
“You can't deny physical beings love,” Asclepius said. “That's why they accepted your offer to descend in the first place, and that's why they are now declining your offer now, no matter how tempting the mortal shells you offer them to inhabit.”
“Either way, the hybrid races are doomed to die out,” Hashem said. “Your way just means it will happen sooner.”
“Shay’tan has within his grasp the solution to your problem." Asceplius hoped She-who-is wouldn't be upset he'd volunteered that last little tidbit of information. Hashem and Shay'tan were not the only gods who liked to play chess...
“What?” Hashem asked. “Please explain…”
“It's forbidden to discuss this,” Asceplius said. “I have already said too much.”
Hashem understood the code words ‘It's forbidden.' The old gods had developed such code amongst themselves when they needed to divulge a piece of information that She-who-is, or more importantly, He-who’s-not, might not approve of. It meant ‘pay attention to what I just said because it's important.’
“And the child?" Hashem pretended he hadn't heard.
“Tell the parents they must care for their son themselves,” Asceplius said.
“Can’t you help?” Hashem asked. “You were, after all, once a physician?”
“You know that interference is forbidden,” Asclepius said
. “I don't want to anger HIM.”
Asclepius sensed the ripple of fear which radiated through his old friend's consciousness at the mere mention of HIS name. It was not She-who-is who forbade all use of ascended powers in the material realms, but the Guardian, He-who’s-not. Anyone who caused more than the tiniest ripple in the fabric of consciousness of the universe would have to deal with HIM.
Hashem released his hold on the ascended realms. It took an enormous act of will to cram a consciousness as big as his across the barriers which separated time and space. The other old gods would never admit it, but they admired him. If and when Hashem decided to stop mucking around in the real world, he would prove a formidable contestant for his own universe.
As would Shay’tan. Oooh … scary thought…
Asclepius focused his consciousness towards the child. Its parents huddled together, breathing along with their dying son as he struggled to take every breath. Asclepius took pity on them. Just because he'd long ago shed his material form didn't mean he couldn't remember what it had been like to feel pain. It was just a nudge...
Reaching out with his mind, he directed a tiny tendril of consciousness into that part of the infant's body that struggled to hold onto the lifespark and strengthened it. Small enough that HE wouldn't notice.
Let Hashem do the rest … and pay the price.
Chapter 75
Sword of the Gods: The Chosen One Page 80
