He was hit like a penny on the carpet when the vacuum rushes through. All of a sudden, he was swept up in a wind that held him and pushed him back–he would say back because it felt that he was compacted in the front–and eventually up, but away from the physical realm he haunted and through other realms that he had never experienced before.
Isheanesu was the nephew of the last emperor of the Changamire Dynasty of Zimbabwe of the mid to late 1800s. His neck was broken to keep him from notifying his family of the coming coup, and his death was so traumatic and violent that his soul wept over the carnage even after the disposal of his body. After a decade haunting the families of the new rulers of Zimbabwe, filling their dreams with the image of a weeping man with his head turned all the way around, Isheanesu was greeted by another spirit, Anesuishe, who told him that she had been waiting for him to finish his period of mourning before she asked him to return to the duties he had accepted and kept very diligently in his life. Isheanesu was a medium, the Brave Chimutengwende of his time who channeled the spirits of his deceased ancestors, or the vadzimu, to help the living. In his death, Isheanesu would join the vadzimu to aide the next brave.
“It’s time, brother,” Anesuishe said softly and Isheanesu ended his period of deep mourning for the end of the Changamire Dynasty.
Ishe has never spent time in any other realm of existence as a result of his duties. The suck changed that. It pulled him toward the seeming point of no return, where all matter across the spectra of our universe disintegrates into a billion explosions. He did not make it there, the suck stopped before he met the disintegration, but when the strong push stopped, and he shook away his disorientation, he realized that he had no idea where he was. It was a very bright place, and though he did not perceive sound in the way that his ears did when he had a body, the energies of his spirit were altered by a persistent hum that affected his nature. He was like a puffy version of himself, like he was a cloud, and he felt as light as air. His ability to think was altered, like thoughts drifted into and out of his mind as easily as he found it to float around the bright place that he found himself.
He could not distinguish a floor or ground in that place, but he could find a resting place when he wanted one. And he could walk, but it was more like bounding over a planetary body with low gravity. And it was while he was ambling along that he tumbled into a man, what appeared to be the figure of a man. They were both unharmed, but very surprised.
“You are a strange thing, aren’t you?” the man said to Ishe. “You are a human right? I guess from your perspective, I would be death, the grim reaper. You can call me Pomp.”
Pomp held out what was most likely his hand but his entire arm lacked solidity, like he was pulling it together to offer pleasantries to Ishe. The two shook.
Introduce me too, Ishe heard like a voice in his mind.
“You make a body and do it yourself,” Pomp said to the voice. “That’s the Voice. She’s not shy, she just has control issues. What brings you here? Was it that awful sucking thing? It was chaos for sure, but things seem to have settled. I’ve seen many others like you here but they are all so traumatized that they might well just be puffy floating things that don’t respond to my yammering. Welcome to your new home, I guess. It’s boring, but there’s worse places.”
Ishe looked around and everything seemed to be white, but in the distance above and below him there were spots of blurry colors, like distant stars that he could see with effort.
“Those things are not boring but they are not always nice. If you pick the wrong one, you’ll regret it.”
“What are they?” Ishe asked. “What is this place?”
“This is the light. And the Angel came here long ago to do something. They are always working, always recruiting. There, the red squiggle down below, that is the work of Ares, who gathers the souls and energies of countless men lending their strength to his goal all rolled into a star. There, the barely there orange one just ahead, is the work of Azer. It is the same Angel as Ares, only from a different parallel of existence where he and his brothers have no fixed gender, but are capable of changing it at will. The distant colors you see represent the same angel who came here from many universes and organized by sex as they did in their physical realms. There is Aje, who is female, Aie, who has no gender, and Ajres, who is the combination of both genders. What Aje/Ares/Aie/Ajres/Azer are doing in the realm of light is a mystery to me, and to the Voice. We are their creations and we serve at their whim. We are old tools though, and we wander doing very little until we are summoned.”
“Which of them created you?” Ishe asked. “Can you ask them to help me get back? I don’t think I should be here.”
“They all created me. Everything they do in the light is the same, and even if they choose not to work together, they always are. They are the same thing, after all, they only have one purpose. Their difference is manifested in the physical realm where they like to meddle. And no, they will not help you. I don’t think. We can ask, but we have to go to one of them and ask. You must choose carefully. Choose the wrong version of the Angel and you will be rejected before you can even make a request. And the journey to one is so exhausting that you really only have one choice. By the time you journey to another, the physical realm will have forgotten you and there won’t be any need to go there.”
Ishe was heartened against the challenge and he smiled at Pomp.
“I appreciate your help,” he said. “You are very welcoming and helpful.”
“I’m too bored to be anything else. If I were unpleasant you would leave off and not talk to me at all and that would just leave me with the Voice who is too busy playing power games to be an engaging conversationalist. Can I join you on your quest? I just warn you that the Voice will inevitably follow us as we make our way, but she is no harm really. She likes to cast aspersions and doubts, but you seem like a lad of strong constitution. I trust that you can make this trek.”
Ishe appreciated the guide.
“So which version of the Angel will you ask for help? The male, the female, the combined gender, the genderless, or the one capable of changing gender? And I cannot really give you any advice. I have never appealed to the Angel on behalf of a human spirit before and neither has the Voice.”
Ishe wondered how he should make his decision. Was another man more likely to help him? But if the male angel is surrounded by men he has recruited across existence, maybe Ishe would seem inadequate by comparison. Maybe he should try the female Angel. Women loved him. But if the female Angel only chose to be around other females, then maybe she is hostile to masculinity of any kind. It was a predicament.
PRL Serials 