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my son said, is someone who sits gazing out the window, drinking herbal tea, the cat (if you are a cat person) reclining on the sun lit window sill, the dog (if you are a dog person) asleep at your feet, contemplating the voices of the story in his/her head.
I just wanted you all to know, that I am sitting here, gazing out the window of my North Olympic Peninsula home (that’s near FORKS for all of you geographically impaired), the dog is lying on the bed in the dead dog position (that’s on his back with all four feet curled up as if rigor mortis has already set in), and I am drinking Lipton’s cup of soup, chicken noodle flavor as I am out of herbal tea.
The continent of Karupatani encompassed nearly half the planet Rehnor as it did on the mother planet Rozari. We were content with that. We had always been content with this. It was the Mishnese who had always sought otherwise, to control that which was ours and to assimilate us into them. They had coveted our land on Rehnor and before that on Rozari and it was this that caused the Great War.
My great father Karukan was a brilliant man though history would say otherwise. Some believe he even had powers, abilities that went far beyond those of a mortal man. He wrote of these powers in the books that were passed down to us over the thousand years since his death. Yet it is unclear in these books and to the scholars and sages who have studied them since whether the Great Father spoke of himself. Many believed he was referring to another, a man to come many generations hence, a man he called the MaKennah. Regardless, Karukan lived the life of a mortal man and unfortunately, was forced to make a choice, a horrendous and horrific choice that damaged the Mother Planet beyond recognition and sent us, his sons and daughters to this Rehnor. Not long after that, our enemies followed and too settled on this planet demanding a continuation of the war that brought us here to begin with.
For a thousand years we had fought the Mishnese and for us it had been a difficult battle. We had no longer the ships and weapons; we had not the means to unleash the destruction upon them as they had upon us. We were a simple people, a people of the land and it was only our stealth, our faith, our fearlessness and our God that had preserved our nation.
Karupatani was surrounded by the oceans. We had two large mountain ranges that bisected us north and south and many rivers, valleys and plateaus. We were a fruitful land and if we were to count our people, there might be a few million, a small amount compared to the many million Mishnese. We had villages and towns throughout our land and each village was ruled by a Chief and Council. Our village Chiefs made up a territorial council. These councils come before our King four times a year to resolve issues and pay homage. My father, Merakoma de Kudisha, was the King of Karupatani.
When I was fourteen, I was marked with the sign of the horse and declared the Crown Prince. This was my privilege and my responsibility as the oldest of Merakoma’s sons. My second brother Lot was two years younger and some said he was a better choice being more responsible and level headed than I. I was wild, yes and I enjoyed my position and flaunted it. The day after I was marked, I bedded four girls. My youth came quickly to an end though when four years later my mother was killed. The old Mishak king attacked my mother’s village while she was there visiting her sisters. My father was devastated. From that time forth he was a changed man. My brother Lot and I met with the men of our nation and we plotted and planned our revenge but my father cared not at all. He poured over the writings of Karukan as if our defense was hidden there in. My brother and I led a series of attacks on Turko and Renfro, the Mishnese border cities and we killed many Mishaks, but in so doing my brother too lost his life. He was stupid. It was his own fault. He didn’t clear the area as quickly as needed and so was caught in the counter attack by the Mishnese Guards. When they found him and returned his body to us, his heart was pierced by a single bullet. My father’s hair turned to grey overnight.
We mourned for my brother and we prepared for the next attack. I had planned it well and was fortunate in that just before we were to launch, the Mishnese king died. His son, a man about my own father’s age became the new king and Mishnah for a time was in mourning and not watching their defenses. It was the opportune time and the night before I prepared myself by abstaining from any women, instead drilling myself and my men repeatedly with our light swords. Just before dawn my father came to me, I thought to wish us success but instead he pulled me away from my men and bid me walk with him back to the village. My brother Pedah was with him. Pedah was sixteen years at the time. He had a steady gaze and calm demeanor and would gladly speak to you for hours on the subjects of science and mathematics long after your interest had waned. His desire above all was to study even if that meant he must cross the ocean to Mishnah to do so.
“Sorkan,” my father said. “You will cancel your plans. There will be no attack tomorrow or ever after.”
I opened my mouth to protest but my brother interrupted. “Listen to him, brother,” he said as if he were the older and I the young one. “His words are very important. Do not interrupt.”
“I have read the Holy Book. I have read the words of our Great Father so many times these last few years that I could recite them from memory now,” my father said. “And it is in these words that I have found the answer. We will forever cease to war with the Mishnese and we will become brothers with them.”
I gasped. I was outraged. Were it not for Pedah’s piercing gaze, I would think my father had gone from his mind. “What does it say,” I managed to speak calmly. “How are we to do this?”
“It says,” my father intoned. “My son shall be the son of my enemy. My son shall be called The MaKennah.”
I glanced off into the forest. Perhaps my father and my brother had both gone from their minds.
“Sorkan,” my father said sharply. “You will wed the Princess Royal of Mishnah and you will beget a son.”
“Your son will be called MaKennah ka Rehnor and he will be named upon his birth as my heir and the heir to the Mishnese King.”
My legs had gone leaden and could not move another pace.
“I am your heir,” I gasped. My father did not meet my gaze. I looked to my brother who shook his head. “You would give my crown, my birthright to the son of a Mishak whore?”
“She is not a whore, Sorkan,” my brother explained professorially. “She is the Princess Royal and a direct descendant of the Saint. She is also sixteen years and virgin. It’s a great honor for you brother. You will be the father of the MaKennah.”
“But I will not be King of Karupatani!”
“The Mishnese King will make you Duke of Segefor. You will have a great palace there where you may live.”
“I don’t give a bloody fuck for Segefor!” I practically screamed. “I am a prince of Karupatani. I am to be King of Karupatani!”
“No you are not,” my father said, resoundly. “The MaKennah ka Rehnor is to be my heir.”
“This MaKennah doesn’t even exist,” I cried. “He has not yet been conceived. What if she is barren or if the child is a girl? What if he does not survive in her womb or dies an infant? What then? What will become of me? Shall I be strapped for all eternity to this Mishak bitch trying again and again to produce that which you think must be created?”
“She will conceive and she will bear the child.”
“And on what authority do you know this?”
“It shall happen, Sorkan,” my brother said. “It will.”
“And what if I refuse to lie with her?”
“Ah come now brother, you have lain with everyone and everything. One night with this girl will not kill you.”
“And what of the Mishak Crown Prince? What does he think about relinquishing his crown for your illustrious MaKennah.”
“He is not pleased,” my father replied. “But like you, he has no choice in the matter. It is agreed to. It is done. Tomorrow we will go to Mishnah and within one week you will be wed to the Princess. She menstruates this week. Your wedding night shall be excellent timing for conception.” They walked away.
I drank. I drank everything I could put my hands on and I smoked every ounce of Barkuti I could obtain. I shot up Horkin. I fucked every girl in Karupatani, married or not, virgin or not, and when they dragged me into the Palace of Mishnah to meet my bride I was barely conscious. They were horrified by me I was certain and rightly so for I teetered on my feet, I slurred my words, my eyes were crossed and I belched and farted soundly. Pity poor Pedah could not have done my duty for me but for the accident of my birth prior to his. He would have relished this chance to be the father of a great king as he had no interest in being one himself. But I had and I was robbed of this as was the Mishak Prince who glared at me as if it were all my doing and promised to kill first me and then my son. I laughed at him and showed him my blade which could make quick work upon his throat. He was as weak as kitten and clung to his boyfriend. A gust of wind could have knocked the two of them to the ground.
The day of my wedding as I staggered outside the great hall, a huge Lightie came upon me and seizing my neck, slammed me against the wall. I am a big man and strong. I am a Prince of Karupatani and never yet have I been so dominated but for this Lightie. I was dressed in the fine clothes of the Mishaks with no pocket for my blade and only my foul drunken breath to ward off this creature.
“You hurt her, Karut,” he hissed. “And I will kill you with my hand.” For good measure he choked me so much that I spurted and fought for breath. “I’m watching you, all the time.” He dropped me and departed as quickly as he came. I did not bother to straighten my suit nor comb back my hair. I went into the great hall and saw my bride, a wee little thing covered from head to toe in white veil and gown. She trembled on the altar and her hand fluttered as it lay upon mine as we stood before our fathers and were wed. Without further delay for even a toast or a congratulatory meal, we were hustled off to the bedchamber. She was ovulating.
Thankfully, they left us alone and awkwardly we stood in silence. I craved a drink and had become quite fond of Mishnese Vodka but was not allowed any this day so as not to impair my functions.
“Fuck,” I said and sat down on the bed. “How the fuck did I get into this?”
She looked at me through her veiling and her eyes filled with tears. I studied these for a moment as her eyes were strange, nearly the color of water on a November day.
“Are you crying?” I asked for I could not tell.
“Are you afraid of me?”
She nodded again and I realized that she was just a child. Though she was fertile and of age, she had lived a cloistered life here in the palace unlike our women of Karupatani.
“I won’t hurt you,” I said. “I’m not angry at you. You were forced into this just as I, were you not?”
“I love someone else,” she said in a tiny voice.
“Well,” I shrugged. “Let us do what must be done and then you may be free of me.”
“But we will have a son together,” she reminded me.
“He won’t be ours,” I replied. “We are merely the donors of his DNA and you the incubator. They will take him from both of us upon his birth. And that’s fine with me.” I removed my jacket and slipped off my shirt. “I don’t want a son anyway especially one that has stolen my crown.”
“I would like a baby to love,” she said as her clear grey eyes appraised my body. I was in fine form. I was well muscled and lean. I was a warrior prince of Karupatani. “I should like to bear my true love a son.”
“Well perhaps in the next life,” I smirked and slipped off my trousers. Her eyes grew wide. She had never seen a man naked. Certainly she had never seen a man with as fine a cock as mine for that man did not exist. I was young, twenty-one then, and it took only a thought to raise my friend to proud attention. “Take off your clothes, Princess. Let’s be done with this and on our way.”
“I can’t,” she cried and backed away.
“Ah come now,” I said getting frustrated. “This whole event has been orchestrated down to the minute. Surely if you do not wish to fuck me, you can dream of your true love and pretend that I am he. I certainly will be pretending that you are someone else.”
Her eyes filled with tears again.
“Must you be so cruel?” she wept.
I lay on the bed and noted my friend had lost some of his enthusiasm. “Can you at least take off your veil so I may see your face? What is your name?”
“Lydia,” she whispered and removed the veil. Surprisingly, she was quite pretty. She had blonde curls and fair skin, nearly as fair as a Lightie yet red lips that seemed quite pleasing.
“I am Sorkan,” I said. “You are beautiful Lydia. I shall take pleasure in having you.”
“I know I am beautiful,” she replied and raised her chin. “And you are beautiful too even though you are dark and wicked looking. I think we shall make an exceptionally beautiful son.”
I laughed at this.
“Unless you take off your gown and come lie with me here, there shall be no son and then they shall make us repeat this effort. You wouldn’t want that, would you?”
“Oh no,” she shook her head like a child and slowly released the buttons on her gown. It slipped to the floor. She had no breasts. Her belly and hips were flat like a boy’s. My cock shrunk in sorrow. Her face colored and her eyes filled again. “You don’t want me now?”
“Ach Lydia,” I sighed and reached for her. “Come lie down and I shall teach you how to kiss properly. Have you ever been kissed?”
“No,” she shook her head. “Only my hands and feet.”
“That doesn’t count,” I remarked drily. “Well we’ll start with your lips for they are quite luscious and I shall enjoy teaching them.”
“Will you still impregnate me tonight,” she asked, setting herself beside me.
“Ay yah,” I said. “We shall start with kissing and move onward from there. I dare say before morning you shall have the nasty brat begun in your womb.”
He was begun that night but for good measure Lydia and I repeated the act again and again for she had discovered that she quite liked me and I had discovered that I quite liked teaching her. In fact, I became fond of her, even a little in love and over the next few months chose to stay by her side rather than return to Karupatani. She had a strong appetite for me and I reveled at the changes in her body, the magnificent breasts that erupted, the hard swelling of her belly, the softness of her inner thighs and I marveled that I had caused this all to occur. For a brief but astonishing few months, Lydia and I lived in our palace at Segefor. Had we created a sibling for our son each time we copulated, I dare say our boy would now have five hundred brothers and sisters.
By the advent of her third trimester, the King of Mishnah recalled Lydia to the Palace of Mishnah for her final lying in and birth. Our son was tumultuous during this time, tossing and turning about without cease. It was feared that he would arrive well before his gestation was complete and I was forbidden from touching her again. The physicians monitored him constantly and we watched him on the vid in front of Lydia’s bed as the doctors made such noises and whisperings that would cause anyone fright.
“Is he alright?” Lydia squeaked each time they gazed upon the screen with their hands crossed behind their backs.
“He is…he is…different.” How or what this meant was never explained. I looked at him too and counted fingers and toes. His head was the correct shape. His little body curled in the tight space seemed equally normal. His tiny cock seemed normal as well. What could possibly be wrong?
“I am feared for our baby, Sorkan,” Lydia wept when the doctors left.
“Our baby will be a great King,” I told her. “You have nothing to fear. When he is born and you are recovered, we will make him a sibling too.”
“Will we?” she smiled with her water colored eyes. “I should like a daughter.”
“It is done,” I said as if I could control such things. “As beautiful as you, my wife.”
In the seventh month of Lydia’s gestation, I returned to Karupatani only for two days. It was mid summer and the meeting of the councils. Though I was no longer Crown Prince, I was treated with great respect and admiration. Everyone asked of my wife, my son and blessed me for having stopped the wars of a thousand years. My father smiled at me with great pride and for the first time since my mother’s and my brother’s death, he seemed at peace.
On the first day of August, I flew back to the Palace of Mishnah, anxious to return to my wife’s side and await the birth of my son. As soon as I landed in the courtyard, I knew something had happened. The palace though filled with light and sun was shrouded in darkness. My limo had barely touched down before I bolted across the lawn toward the Big House. It was silent there, silent as never before without a chambermaid or servant anywhere in sight. I ran to our rooms, to Lydia’s suite where only two days before I left her with a kiss and a promise to hurry back. The doors were locked and sealed. There was no guard to grant me entrance. I pounded on them until my knuckles were raw and bleeding. I screamed. “Lydia! Lydia!” for what seemed like eons.
“She’s dead,” the big Lightie said pulling my bloody hands away from the door. “This morning.”
“No!” I cried. “No!” and I collapsed upon the floor. The Lightie let me drop. “How?” I begged of him.
He shook his head.
“Lydia,” I wept and then I realized how it had come to pass. “My son?”
The Lightie shook his head again and then he left me, a huddled mess. Somehow I managed my way back to the limo and somehow I was flown to my empty, cold, palace in Segefor. Once there I began to drink. I drank and drank and drank until sometime later, Pedah came for me.
“I’ve lost everything,” I slurred.
“You haven’t,” he said. “Your son still lives. You must go get him from them.”
“I don’t care,” I wept. “I don’t want him. I want my Lydia.”
“You must Sorkan. Everything depends upon your son.”
“No! Let them keep him. He is nothing to me. I hate him. He has taken my Lydia and taken my crown. I want nothing of him.” I refused to set down the bottle I drank from. I refused to move. Pedah left and for many years I set not a foot in Karupatani. I did not lay eyes upon my son for twelve more years when suddenly his face, my face with Lydia’s fair complexion, was plastered across the vid screens of Rehnor.
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I want to introduce you to:
Gabriel is the messenger angel and Uriel is the angel of light and known for guiding thoughts, ideas, creativity and magic.
How did we go from Science Fiction/Fantasy to Spiritualism? It’s something that C.S. Lewis did quite well. In fact there is a lot of literature that takes angels and especially the Archangels and puts them in the bodies of men. There is also a lot of literature and theories that suggest some of the great men and women of our own history were exactly that.
Why am I talking about angels? You’ll have to read “Of Blood and Angels” to find out.
Next topic, healing flowers featured in Book 5, The Days of the Golden Moons.