[The transcript of Zechariah's interaction with the Voice, is as authentic as it could be reproduced (part 1)]
- Zechariah,
Zechariah perceives as if a scene had been erected to his vision of the burning town, seen from the incline nearby. The visuals from what he considered 'reality' and those of the 'revelation', blend in his sight to a difficult-to-describe (and impossible to forget) collage of visual understanding. What felt like moments, pass without change in the scene, and the thoughts reached a standstill, which makes the perception of time unreal, because time is sensed by the passage of thoughts: absent them, there is no faculty to feel the time.
The first thing to enter mind after the blockage, is the sense of familiarity from a long time ago. In his youth, Zechariah had been called by this name, but for a person this old, youth is objectively long ago. His Majesty Crichton was not born when Zechariah had last been addressed Zechariah. Even in the jolly days of the Ancient Era, he had been called Tavastia, after the marquessate to the north of the River, which was burning in front of his very eyes. Then he was Royal Prince or Prince Royal, then His Majesty the King rpietila II, and after abdication, His Royal Highness, and among (the few) peers - Zenon, Soul, and NewLiberty, the triad of Wisdom in the Kingdom - he was mostly called Prince (this was out of convenience, since none of the other three strictly is a prince, Zenon being a grand wizard, Soul a grand duke and NewLiberty simply a duke). This custom was extended to the general staff during the Campaign of the River a few decades ago, and again in the Campaign of Kansanmarkka, the campaign just about to end in the surrender of the land, if not the spirits.
Names, they are strong connectors of energies. Zechariah is soon transferred to ages past, merely, as it seems, from the hearing of his Christian name by a sounding Voice. As if his father was calling. The memories come intensely, without possibility to enumerate.
"Yes."
How do you properly address a Voice?? Again, moments pass in thought-solitude, and the flames move about in their dance towards the stars, yet the hearing is tuned to the new channel alone.
- Zechariah, the emotions and memories of an old soul are strong in the moments like this. Your intense energy has distorted what future generations would term the time/space continuum, and allowed me to visit you. Be calm, I am with you as long as the connection can be maintained in this special moment. When I depart, you will still not be alone, you always will have Someone, for all are One.
"..."
- It is all right that you are speechless. In your conscious level, you have not been calling me, yet you have been calling in your mind, in your thoughts, in your heart. The intense longing for Connection, it has been in you since the [Golden Jubilee in 1450] ball in the connected halls of newly-built Malla, the day of your Introduction, when the debutantes blushed at your boyish energies, you handsome lad! That day you felt the Life had begun, as indeed it had. You still have that Something as a remembrance from her in your personal items, do you not?
- I have been waiting for so long to contact you. Now you have arrived to the conclusion of your mission. Gaze upon you! I know your emotion is tuned to absorb the moment, yet I say it. There is nothing like this you have experienced before, nor will experience. Indeed, you did not consider something like this even could happen, so carpe diem, here it is! The high point. The End of an era.
"Sir, I know my years are many, and the weight of my memories in this dense moment seems too much to bear. However my body feels not ill - have you come to tell me that I will die here? Is this my last experience - to see my loving family, friends, the township I had learned to call 'home', engulfed in flames? Are you my father, are you Death?"
- No, Zechariah. You are not dying, nor are you becoming crazy. All is well. The emotion of the moment is burning you, but it is burning in a purifying way. This is the consummation of your search for Power. You were not born a King; in the wisdom of your father, you were not even designated Royal by birth. Yet, since the Introduction, of course you had the aspiration, the inner feeling of surety in the Universe, that one day you will be. It is OK to light a Cohiba, it is a good wisdom product. Everything you have experienced so far, has been like a spear aimed at penetrating the Veil of Confusion, the Illusion of Disconnectedness, every moment with CAN, MUS, and the more exotic like, has recharged the cosmic battery, so to speak, or added the specks of mass to the huge but acute Scale of Ascension. You cannot count the specks, they are innumerable, but now we are through. The connection can indeed be maintained by a good smoke, and I sense you still need some time to get back your tongue...
- You have thought about human experience. Why you became conscious of the beauty of Life in the Introduction? What has been the meaning of the various experiences since then? Why is the consciousness sometimes sharp as a needle, other times dull as the discussion in the Grail & Quail in 6 a.m. after the departure of all the souls whose Expressions were interacting like the sparks of divinity in the flickering flames of the big fireplace there, when only the boring types were left with empty jugs, desirous to fill them once more, but with the Spirit departed with the gentle closing of the door after the last of the Pillars and his Shadow? What is a SOUL? You spent decades in learning and experiencing the multifarious facets of the 3D physical experience, honing your equestrian skills, your sword and later your pistol, your books, your business and economics (after your father).
Yet, the mysteries of the Soul have escaped you. You are a quasquibicentenarian [the age of 225], and know both the meaning and the pronunciation of the word. You have added to your title 'Creator', which your father did not do. You have amassed great wealth, and great power. Kansanmarkka came forth of your thought, and blossomed and people were looking intently at you like they did to Job when he was sitting at the Gates of his town before his tribulations, four thousand years ago. And when your thought departed it [Kansanmarkka], it withered and died. - -
"Sir, I apologize. I should not have infringed the Higher Powers and haughtily assumed titles to which I am not privy to. I just... I felt there was need to wake up the others. Those precious people that I had grown with, lived with, the ones that now operate the offices of the Kingdom, of senate ... I have not had wrong intention in what I have done. I - - "
- Zechariah, all is fine. I am not here to judge you. You are correct in what you have said. Your intention has been pure all the years. You cannot lie, so you rightfully must acknowledge that you are pure, just and good. It is not wrong, in fact it is right, to call you a Creator. Kansanmarkka IS your creation, the experience of calling it forth and, later, the withdrawing of your Spirit from it so that it dissolves to nothingness, that is little different from the experience of the creator of the World, who keeps grass growing where it is seen and where it is not seen. You have become to perceive the creative energy of the Universe, you have played with that, and you have mastered that.
The flames from the burning 'preparation site of the House of Tavastia, the would-be-coming-Seat in the Marquessate of Tavastia, claimed ~1490', formed a voiceless background to the voice of the Voice.
"Sir, are you God?"
If it were possible to sense a smile in the countenance of the voice, which during all the act had not materialised despite the open scene that still was erected in the visual field of Zechariah, meshed with the eerie background of the flames of the burning memories of the 14 years' of life, there would certainly have been such a smile. Zechariah perceived the smile, so it was there. The Voice said:
- Zechariah, are you?