Cheilin Saga ~ 11

 Cheilin Saga ~ 11 The Abbey at Samishaan 1

By Len Morgan 

 In a small roof garden set atop of what appeared to be a crumbling ruin a young novice, clothed in the simple red tunic of his order, assumed his post as keeper of the orb.   Which, seemed, at first glance, to be a rather unimpressive globe of frosted glass; approximately two inches in diameter.   Closer inspection revealed an opalescence that seemed to draw the eyes into an intimate union, diffracting and diffusing the light into iridescent, languidly flowing clouds.   Slowly they cleared to reveal a still and silent naked male figure composed, and sitting cross-legged eyes closed, in a state of sublime meditation.

“He sleeps still brother, it will be several weeks before he begins to visualise; that is when his true nature will be revealed.”

Brother Ignatius did not look round as the reverend Father Abbot spoke.   He knew too well how the ancient man looked, dressed in the plain green-brown robes of an elder, his face burdened with the many responsibilities of the order of ‘The Chosen One’.   He absentmindedly stroked his salt and pepper whiskers, producing an abrasive sound, his ice-blue eyes, as always, would be bright and alert.   He was a man of contrasts, the Abbot of Samishaan.    He had spent more than half a century within those walls, he knew from personal experience how these things should unfold.   He rested his hands lightly on the young mans shoulders. 

 “We are duty-bound to monitor every new arrival, in case one of them is ‘The Chosen One’.   One day he will come,” said the Abbot with certain conviction, “sent to us by Geoffe the one true God, to arouse our awareness.  He will fire us with a sense of purpose, a beacon, to lead us on the great crusade.    It is said that he will be the physical manifestation of Geoffe himself, made flesh, in this mortal world.”   The Order of Samishaan was created in antiquity for the sole purpose of finding and elevating him to his rightful place of glory.”   Both raised their eyes reverently to a ten-foot marble figure set on a granite plinth six feet from the ground.

“You are right to be concerned with our vigilance Reverend father,” He replied.

“I had hoped that he would come in my lifetime” said the Abbot, “but I age fast now and become more certain, with each passing day, it is not to be.”

“Your faith is strong father; it may yet come to pass on your watch.”

The Abbot smiled wanly and patted the young man reassuringly on the head.

“Keep vigil brother Ignatius, make notes and learn.  In two weeks you will see him relive his life.   Revealing his guilty secrets, acting out his evil deeds, his whole sordid life history will unfurl before your eyes.   It is the nature of man to unburden himself and confess his sins.   All the many gifts and talents bestowed upon him by Geoffe will have been debased in the pursuit of his own selfish ends.   They always confess within the confines of the orb.   I certainly did, and so did you, and those who came before us.   Including those who reached absolution and returned to the world or travelled to a higher plane…”

“But, did any ever sit so?   Expectant as if knowing what is to come?   Look at him, look at his face; he is at peace almost as though he is in command of his fate.   He is different, he knows.”

The Abbot glanced down at the frosted globe and saw nothing.

“He cannot know; how could he?   Denied all contact with reality, deprived of his power to snoop in the minds of others, he languishes in a place of total darkness.   He experiences no sight, sound, or sense of touch; he is disembodied like smoke.   How could he know?”   The reverend father glanced down again and saw, for the first time, the face turned towards him and smiled, eyes bright and intelligent, returning his surprise with warmth and kindness.   He felt extreme discomfort excitement and fear.   From what he saw with his own eyes and from the reports he had received from the novice caring for his body, in the absence of spiritual presence, he hardly dared hope.   The image in the globe was a perfect though unflattering replica of the statue it was scarred but not unpleasantly so.    Unbeknown to Brother Ignatius, none had ever taken human form within the orb, usually, they simply remained insubstantial, a cloudy mist of swirling pastel smoke.

Whilst Brother Ignatius had been charged with the care, observation, and reporting of the insubstantial spirit part of the being, Sister Constance had been charged with looking after the empty vessel, keeping it fed, watered, exercised and healthy.   Administering to its every need was a demanding full-time job a great responsibility.

Father Abbot had chosen the two youngest of his charges to be the ‘witnesses’ precisely because neither had any prior experience of what to expect.   They were instructed to report everything, without exception, it would not occur to them that doing so might cast them in a bad light.

Initially, Sister Constance reported every triviality, every instance of incontinence, and her solution had been, to lead him to the latrine and enter his mind to set his functions in motion.   This worked fine for a while; then inevitably, one day, she became distracted, only to discover he'd evacuated his waste without her instruction.   On another occasion, she was forced to leave him when the time was near due.   On her return, she discovered he had not suffered a remission.   She experimented, by laying food and drink before him.   After several minutes, he proceeded to eat and drink unaided.   All this she duly reported assuming it to be normal.   He continued performing simple autonomic functions purely from instinct.  

She was unsure why she entered his mind, gazing at herself, through a man’s eyes, she assumed from simple curiosity, to gauge his reaction.  She saw her slim form jewel-bright green eyes a pleasant face, blond tresses peeking from beneath her snood.   She became deeply disturbed when she experienced, the male feelings of arousal; he desired her.   This she did not report for fear of rebuke and possible removal from her duties, as punishment for her sin.   She fled from his cell, guilty of encroaching; she was ashamed of herself and the way she had unwittingly manipulated him.   She had abused the trust of a helpless dependant creature.   She returned later, in control of her feelings, calmed sufficiently to carry out her duties, and time passed without incident.   But, on the point of leaving, she turned and appraised him for the first time as a woman does.   He was a handsome specimen, even the scars on his face were not off-putting.  She walked over to him, testing his musculature, feeling for excess fat and signs of overindulgence finding neither.   He was tall lean, and his body odour was both fresh and wholesome.   There must have been something in her eyes, a look?   He again became aroused by her closeness.   She looked up into his face.   His pupils were dilated and he exhibited other obvious signs of desire.   On impulse, she wrapped her arms around his near-naked form.   Exerting pressure on his shoulders with little persuasion his head came down to her level, and they kissed.

 (to be continued)

Copyright Len Morgan