The Cord

I'm here again, in that place of grass and clouds, cool breezes and rustling leaves.  I know this is a dream, or I hope it is.  Before now, before he came to me, I wanted to stay in this place and rest peacefully, without the dreams, the nightmares of some other person's life.  Those nightmares never played out like a dream though.  It was like seeing through someone else's eyes but I knew they were mine, of another time and another place.

I lay quietly, listening to the wind, the grass, the leaves.   I hear the footsteps, as every time before.  I know that there will be a one-sided conversation and then I will be sent back to my waking life.  So I just wait.  I wait for the footfalls to stop next to me.  For the shadow to fall over my face and the gentle touch on my forehead.  I'm ready, I'm eager to get back to those that care for me and those I care deeply for.

I wait patiently as this place and time isn't scary or painful.  It's beautiful and wonderful but not for me, not at this time.

The footsteps stop.  There is a rustling of fabric and a huffed breath but no words, no shadow, no gentle touch.  I let out the breath I was holding and try to open my eyes.  They won't open, or, I can't feel my own eyes.  Like I have no form to control, I just am, I am here in this time and space without form.

I can hear breathing, slow and deep, as if someone were falling asleep right beside me.  I try to concentrate on the breathing and begin to mimic the rhythm and pace.  But I am still nothing, no shape or form.  No weight or substance. 

I'm scared.  I would panic if I could, but I am nothing so only my consciousness is able to panic.  In my panicked state, I try to scream, to ask for help, to ask to be released, to beg, to cry, to just be.  But I cannot, I am helpless and shapeless.  I am nothing and it pains me to know I have left behind people that will grieve for me.

I begin to think of them, the ones left behind. I can form images in my consciousness and see their faces, hear their voices.  I think of Sumi and her open, honest face.  I hear her voice, never sugar-coating the truth but making sure I understand how serious things are in the work that we do.  I see her joyous face and hear her excited cries when one of our hypothesis become truth.

Then, I think of Harold.  The sweet, frantic dedicated man that has been by my side since I stepped through the doors of The Center.  My most loyal supporter but who also will not let me stray from my path and constantly reminds me of why we are doing what we are, and those who we have helped and will help in the future.  Well, maybe not my future now. 

I see Harold's face as tears fell when we lost a test subject.  We were their last chance and we failed.  I hear Harold's voice as he goes through all that went right and how we can 'fix' what went wrong.  So positive and encouraging us all to continue for the good we will do.

Keibiin's image suddenly appears before me.  Her gentle smile and soft voice as she brought me out of my deep sleep.  How she could touch certain parts of my body to activate my mind, to fully wake me back to the world I belong in.  I see how Sumi looks at Keibiin and how hard Keibiin tries not to look at Sumi in the same way.  Maybe those two will be a comfort for each other if I don't return this time.

My consciousness is calmer now.  Knowing that I made a difference in so many lives and that my dreams, my work, will continue on and more people will be helped, saved.  Even my own illness may open the minds of others to figure out cures for mental illnesses as complex and unknown as my own.

As I feel like I'm becoming less and less conscious, I see his face before me.  The one person I have been drawn to my whole life.  Like the mythical braided cord of life that connects us all to our god, I have been connected to Omoide since before I met him at university. 

My first obsession was souls and soulmates.  I truly believed this to be a mental condition.  An infatuation with another person or type of person.  I myself had this feeling for years and when I met Omoide, I felt complete.  I didn't have to search for the answers, he was my answer and so I followed another path.

As his image and voice travel through my consciousness, I start to feel whole again.  More solid, physically.  I feel connect to my body.  I feel myself breathing, my muscles reacting again.  I try to connect to my fingers and can feel them, flex them, grab the grass beneath me.

I sigh an actual sigh, not just an imagined one.  I can feel the wind again, hear the leaves in the tree, the footfalls and rustle of clothing.  The shadow falls across my face and I smile and quietly say, "Thank you.  Thank you for sending me back."  I relax and wait for the touch, for the forceful pull back to my time, my plane.

But again, it doesn't come.  I try to open my eyes, and they do this time.  They open wide and take in the most beautiful face I have ever seen.  It's angelic while strong and caring.  The face smiles, a smile that shows in their eyes.  Eyes of the deepest swirling blue, the depth and color remind me of his.

"Welcome back, my soul." The face says.  "You have been away for a while.  I thought you had decided to stay on the surface plane till your end.  I was ready to send you back again this time, but you were offering your memories so freely, I felt I must oblige and collect them from you."  The face moves away and the sun shines fully in my eyes.

I cover my eyes with my arm and sit up slowly.  As my eyes adjust, I see the figure walking away, towards the old gnarled oak on the hill.  Their pace was slow, as if waiting for me to follow, so I get to my feet and do just that.

The figure stops and sits on the bench under the tree and waves their hand in front of them.  Another bench appears.  The figure looks to me and then the newly formed bench as a form of invitation.  I follow the offer and sit facing them.  It is when we make eye contact that I know, just know this is Tamashii, the god of souls.

"My soul." He smiles, " Your memories indicate that it is not time for you to return to the realm of the gods.  In fact, you have quite a lot of time left on the surface plane and so much work to do.  I want to send you back but before I do, I have some questions, my soul.  And you will answer them or I will drill into your core and rip them out." 

His expression doesn't change while he speaks.  Even as the words turn to threats, he keeps a pleasant smile on his face and direct eye contact.  For some reason, I'm not scared.  I know his words to be truth and I have nothing to fear.  I know I there is a connection here, but not a very strong one.

"Yes my god.  I understand and will answer any questions you may have or you may search my soul directly, as I am one of your souls as you are my only god."  I say without thought, like some hidden recording that only needed his prompt for me to repeat.

"I am Tamashii, the god of souls and have filled the surface plane with the souls I have created.  Only 100 of these souls have the original cord that links them to their god and his Watchman."  Tamashii says with authority. 

He takes my face into his hands as he stares into my eyes, "You are not one of my 100 original souls but you have a cord connected to my chosen Watchman."  He continues.  My sight begins to darken and flashes of images pass behind my eyes, through my consciousness.  I see Omoide's face over and over.  Was this the Watchman he was speaking of.

"I know nothing of this 'Watchman'.  I have no knowledge of my life other than what my memories have shown you." More flashes of places, faces, voices and events that I can recall living through.

Tamashii's hands loosen around my face but just slightly.  I try to catch my breath as my head is starting to ache and I feel darkness closing in again. "This may be true, my soul.  You shouldn't have other lifetimes that need to be purged from your soul's memories, but you have seen my Watchman, he is indeed in your current life's memories."  Tamashii lets go of my face as I fall to my knees before him.

"Please forgive me, my god, I apologize for not being able to answer your questions."  I stammer out and try to right myself and return to sit on the bench. 

"My soul," His voice was once again gentle and caring, "what do you call yourself on the  surface plane?  I will send my Watchman to your vessel and heal your soul." 

"I am known as Benjimin Madelin on the surface plane."  I say, looking into his swirling blue eyes again and then foolishly ask my own question.  "Why can't my god heal my soul in this plane?" I feel intense pressure behind my eyes and drop them to stare at my feet in the tall grass.

"I cannot.  I have tried, my soul, but something is causing you to resist.  You have a strong cord that is tied to my Watchman."  He states as he waves his hand at me. "It is time for you to go.  Your vessel is in distress on the surface plane."  Tamashii stands up from the bench, gently placing his hand under my chin and raising my head so I can gaze into his eyes once again.

"I do look forward to you coming back for good, my soul.  You are interesting and your core has a particular glow that is quite soothing."  That is the last thing I hear as he touches my forehead and all becomes black and I am weightless again.

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Tamashii sits back as the plane morphs into his bed chamber on the God's Realm plane.  He is perplexed by this 'Benjimin' soul.  He did create it, he knows that for sure but this soul is not one of his original 100 souls that live lifetime after lifetime, supplying memories for him to study.  

This is not his first or only world plane.  He has several that are successfully teaming with life of one form or another.  But, this world plane is the only one that has been able to nurture and grow his souls for this long.  He is eager to start many new world planes like this one but has to be absolutely certain they will not fail.  He has been bragging about this world plane to the other gods and has even borrowed 'resources' from them with the promise of entertaining them for eons to come by just watching and maybe, throwing a few disasters in their way, just to see how they would survive.

With this new unexpected issue of a normal soul having a reincarnation cord that is directly tied to his Watchman, Tamashii can't trust that this world plane won't fail.  He can't allow that to happen. 

He decides to summon his Watchman and find out what the connection is between him and this 'Benjimin' soul.  The chamber begins to morph back to the grassy plane but the transformation is stopped as Tamashii decides to create a new illusion in which to talk with his Watchman.