THE DIVINE DREAM

A gentle breeze wafted the pair onto a barely visible ribbon of vibrating air, effortlessly raising them from the scene below and into candyfloss cirrus above. The undulating waves carried them forward, a sensation Trudy likened to the magic carpet ride she’d always imagined. As they cleared the shroud, an explosion of indescribable colours burst forth. Sherbet hues that Trudy couldn’t name, mesmerising her eyes, echoing in her ears, brushing her skin, and tingling on her tongue. Gleaming spires flickered with radiant light, winding rivers shimmered in languid curves, and wispy clouds shifted their forms, mirroring the structures below—an ankh crowning pyramids, an eye hovering over mushroom domes, crescents adorning spherical towers. At the centre, at least Trudy guessed because the vastness of this impossible world stretched out of sight, an ethereal, tessellated castle. It appeared to be crafted from silver-grey stone, each hexagonal block reflecting a rainbow, arched protectively above turrets gleaming of radiant white light. These, her guide explained, were receptacle antennae capturing the trillions upon trillions of messages received from the multiverse to be etched in the individual books of each single soul existing, adding to their chronicles in the Akashic Records housed within. ‘Do you remember your lessons with me in there?’ Paaal pointed to an iridescent blue cone stretching towards the dark expanse of the multiverse above. ‘The Rypansi Question?’ Trudy had no desire to answer questions. She yearned to ask them, to unravel the spellbinding sights of the enchanting land of scintillating light and understand why she felt woven into its infinite vista, despite not recognising a single fragment of it. ‘The regretful fate of Chamenos? How the Karliks destroyed their own ecosystem from within through unchecked advancement, severing their symbiosis with nature, resulting in shattering the planet into billions of blue, yellow and pink sparkles that became known as the Rypansi Cluster? No? My word, they certainly weave a thicker veil nowadays.’ They drifted to a halt beside a shimmering pyramid of milky-white frosted glass. Next to it rose a steep, lancet-arched stele of angel-white stone, a strange symbol etched across its surface glowing fiery orange under their gaze. Paaal led the way through the wall of the pyramid as if passing beneath a waterfall, ushering them into a vast purple chamber dominated by a vision of the planet Earth, gently spinning on its tilted axis, radiant in the glow of its sun. Pictographs of creatures startled Trudy as they magically sprang to life, a menagerie of swooping, trotting, wading, plunging, zipping lifeforms filling the expanse above and spilling across the marble floor below. ‘The making space, Zilvi. Do you remember creating with Dimi here? Only close souls get to use that name, and as you know, I happen to be one of those. Others address the creator as Tau Dimiourgon.’ ‘Wow!’ Trudy wandered the chamber with feather-light steps, blinking at the feast of illusions. Her ears hummed with a euphony of melodies interwoven with silence. Her nostrils drew in a delectable, indescribable sweetness. Where was she? What happened? And how astonishing were these creatures? Questions swirled within her, too many to grasp. ‘Why do you keep calling me Zilvi?’ ‘That’s your eternal name. Trudy is the moniker you have adopted for your first incarnation.’ ‘Have I died and gone to heaven?’ ‘Humans sometimes call this place heaven. We call it Selaschora, the light realm. Our eternal home. You are not humanly dead but at a crossroads. You have free will to decide to stay here, or you can go back and continue with the life of Trudy.’ ‘This place is incredible. Why would you ever want to leave?’ A red-breasted bird with a wide yellow-flecked wingspan glided over her head from one of the walls. ‘To learn and grow to expand the knowledge of your soul.’ ‘You can’t do that here?’ ‘To an extent, yes. But it is when you experience the emotions, the physical sensations, the pain, the fear, the love, the choices and the energy of a third dimensional existence that you truly grow and colour your aura.’ Trudy weaved between trotting horses whose wings fluttered against her shins to pause before a raised marble plinth on which a four-legged creature nested, watering tri-petalled flowers, blue, yellow and pink, from a wrinkled hosepipe trunk. Silver fur flowed from its head to its stubby tail. Six toes adorned the paws, a silver talon thrusting from each. A swine-pink tongue licked rubbery lips from between two rows of serrated silver teeth. ‘Do you remember now?’ Paaal asked. Trudy ran a gossamer hand along the fur. A blink of periwinkle-purple blew a flicker across the veil, piercing a tiny, curly T-shaped rend and allowing forgetfulness to temporarily fade. ‘The Mose.’ Trudy’s eyes widened as her hand tremored. ‘I created it.’ Paaal’s aura gleamed. ‘We sent it to an island on Earth. It’s a good place to hide him; not many predators but lots of plastic food gets left on his beach.’ Trudy clasped her face as unrecognised memories returned. ‘Do you remember your dharma?’ Paaal asked. ‘To protect it on Earth. Solve the Rypansi Question.’ ‘Yes, and everyone in your soul group volunteered to help too. I know it was a lot to ask of you all, being newbies. As its creator, you of all souls here deserved to be the one. Of course, you can choose not to continue and come back here, as Bwuh has done, leaving his incarnation of Brian.’ ‘What’ll happen to the Mose if I don’t go back?’ Round, watery moon-eyes of the Mose gazed into Trudy’s. ‘Your father is being guided to find the creature. Alas, his veil is rather dense, and I fear he is losing faith in the signs he has received.’ Trudy bit her lower lip, tugging playfully on the Mose’s flapping ears as he trumpeted a sweet melody from its nose and nuzzled its head against her chest. ‘I want to go back. I must go back.’