B+J

Photo by Marek Studzinski on Unsplash

An archaeologist wipes off the dirt covered surface of a heavy book. The book shouldn’t be this heavy for how thin and small it is. It’s a copper covered book with “stained glass window” type of patterns all over it. It has no title, only the letters B and J written on it. The book can barely be handheld comfortably with its weight so the archaeologist places it on the ground to read it.

Even opening the book required a bit of effort. Once she did, the first page had an illustration of a giant sword floating alone in a wide open field, emitting light. The sword glowed dimly then the next moment, the archaeologist flinched in surprise as the pages flipped wildly back and forth until it landed on a page with text surrounded by detailed sketches of different types of other worldly beings. As the archaeologist read the text, each word glowed when the book noticed she read it.

“The energy that gives blessings or protection are very rarely humanoid in appearance.”

Once those words glowed, the scenery on the page changed from different types of beings to depictions of different vines with different types of flowers hanging from them. The archaeologist can smell faint traces of wet grass and slight floral scents and the air felt heavier, even while this book was found in the middle of a dry dessert in the shelter of a forgotten, destroyed broken palace. She ignored these smells and a faint ringing in her ears as she continued to read the text.

“The environments that surround us contain their energies.”

Who or what did it mean by “us”?

A faint rumble occurs under the ground where both the book and the archaeologist are. She looks around the dimly lit underground area as the floors and walls vibrate slightly with the reading of the words. This isn’t the first time she has encountered these occurrences when finding an artifact with a heavy aura like this. Which means she has already come to terms with the dangers of encountering these artifacts. She waits until the shaking stops before continuing to read. She thinks of how she’s not dead yet. So she can continue.

“They are not “alive” or “conscious” in the exact way you know those words to mean. These energies put themselves in the roots of all that grows or will grow naturally such as flowers, trees, entire mountain ranges, humans…anything that grows from The Earth. ”

After those words glow, the archaeologist looks at the ground beneath her and sees bits of a mix of standard grass and moss growing in the cracks of the floor. Even tiny flowers are growing out of these cracks. It seems reality is reacting to the book being open. Or maybe the words being read? The images being seen? A combination of all of those? The curiosity only increases. There’s more to read. She continues.

“There are types of environmental locations where the energy that makes the blessings and protections we ask for amplify in effect such as Forests, Oceans, or Temples where any kind of worship happens. Specifically, temples that are surrounded by as much untouched nature as possible. There is one way to classify this energy that will one day in the extremely far future from now be the most popular way to classify this energy-”

The flames offering light to this space where the book rests flicker on and off in random patterns. Cold seeps into the archaeologist’s skin on one side, and heat on the other. She notices, takes a deep breath that releases a small, thin cloud of smoke on the exhale and continues.

“There is one way to classify this energy that will one day in the extremely far future from now be the most popular way to classify this energy and it is called “Angel”. The culture and conversations that made this classification has not occured close enough to my timeline for me to figure out the story. Maybe “Angel” is truly a new energy I am not able to have information on yet.”

With that last sentence read, the imagery on the page shifts into a depiction of a large golden gate surrounding the words. Those gates then shut, covering the words. Then the book itself does its wild page flipping again before slamming shut abruptly. When she looks up, there is an angel statue right near the book that wasn't there before. It looks down at her with a hand slightly outstretched.

She notices she’s now outside in a foggy forest like area with this statue. As she was curiously reaching her hand out to the statue’s outstretched hand to hold it because she was curious if this is what she was supposed to do, a voice speaks up behind her.

“Well, well. Hello. I’m not sure how to announce a welcome to you. I’ll just leave room for you to speak. Any questions?”

The archaeologist turns quickly to look at the source of the voice. It’s an androgynous person with a long midnight blue robe. They stare at her and wait for a response. The archaeologist isn’t sure she should speak and decides to wait curiously. The person continues.

“No questions? No “where am I?”, “How did I get here?”, not even so much as a “Who are you?”….man…and you call yourself curious?” the person teases lightheartedly.

The archaeologist gives a small friendly smile…maybe it’s safe to speak in the presence of…who or whatever this thing or person is. She mentally notes to keep her word usage light for now as a precaution.

“Why am I here?” is the question that she goes with.

“You read my Grimoire, yes? You’ve seen the passage about…the “energies”?

The archaeologist thinks it over for a pause before offering her answer.

“Did angels bring me here?”

The person nods. “If that’s what you’d like to call the energies…then yes. It was Angels. Same thing happened to me when I found out the info you read.”

The archaeologist looks back up to the statue in front of her. It’s hand is closer to her now. She feels the urge to grab it to help herself up and off the ground to stand. The expression on the statue looks neutral and pleasant like it’s saying “you’re welcome.” She turns back around to the person.

“Why though?”

“Well, it turns out that information I wrote is a portal that activates a sort of “coding” in the right people that can get them sent here. I’ll get into the details later but if you’re here, that means the energies that existed wherever you came from wanted you to be here, and wants you to learn “higher” information once you learned the truth of their existence.”

“Where is “here” then?”

“Another part of this vast cosmos apart of all of us. Simply called “The Aether”. A small, incredibly tiny part of it.”

The archaeologist considers the information calmly…It’s been 20 years since she first graduated with her degree in archaeology and decided to do everything she can to travel the world and learn it’s secrets. The first time she encountered proof of esoteric energy she knew that her discoveries could only be a lead towards something huge. Something huge like this exact moment. The only problem after understanding her current situation is knowing if she’s returning back to her reality in order to give this information to people that will believe her.

“Do you know how me “being here” works? Is it my consciousness or soul that's here, or is it my physical body teleported here? I’m basically asking If I can ever go back to where I was before reading the words?”

“It was your consciousness. Your body is currently laying wherever you found my Grimoire. Dead to the world. You won’t be going back to where you were in The Aether before you got to this area of it unless you choose to reincarnate into a new body.”

Even if it’s disappointing to know how she won’t be returning, she quickly accepted her fate then asked a new question.

“What do you mean “choose”? I can choose where I reincarnate from here? Even choose if I want to reincarnate at all?”

“As a presence in this specific part of The Aether, yes. You have that privilege. If you’d like to be back where ever you were for a new life, just sign a soul contract with one of the elders…Let's start walking though. You’ll start struggling to feel comfortable here if we don’t take the steps towards grounding you.”

She sighs, following behind the person. In the reality she left behind, her body lays lifeless in front of the Grimoire which has taken the form of a normal notebook. Both of them are buried under the rubble of the collapsed crypt where she found the book. In some time far in the future, another truth in the blue robed person’s Grimoire will reform, then resurface for the right person to find again. Just like the blue robed person designed it to. The blue robed person has been identified in many ways across time. The archaeologist will assign them one of those many identities when she’s ready.