Reluctant Gods: Books One Through Four

The First of the Reluctant Gods Series

By: A.J. Aaron

The illiterate of the twenty-first century will not be those who cannot read and write, but those who cannot learn, unlearn, and relearn.

Alvin Toffler

Copyright 2011 A.J. Aaron

Revised - Sept 2015

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination, or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher and author do not have any control over, and does not assume responsibility for third party websites.

To purchase another copy of this book, or to see other books by A.J., go to:

http://www.AjAaronOnline.com

Other books by A.J. include:

Reluctant Gods II-The Demon Seth

Reluctant Gods III – Reset

Reluctant Gods IV - Aysel - The Prequel

Reluctant Gods - Books One Through Four

A New Reality-A Wake Up Call to Life’s Mysteries

Power, Control, Conformance

The Hawk, or Other Worlds

Cover Image Copyright Guryanov Andrey used under license from Shutterstock.com.

Editing by Christine Winsor

All changes, even the most longed for, have their melancholy; for what we leave behind us is a part of ourselves; we must die to one life before we enter another.

Anatole France

Chapter 1

Snow was falling beyond the porch of the mansion as I stood in front of the twelve-foot-tall, carved oak door, and heard Boccherini’s Minuet playing inside. I brushed the snow off my coat and stomped my boots. As I reached to ring the bell, the door opened.

Sevi. Come in, my dear. She’s waiting for you. She’s so excited today. Emily’s eyes beamed from the folds of her skin as if they were the sky itself. Her hands, like dried twigs, removed my scarf and coat then pointed to a room.

She’s in the parlor, dear. Please go in and I’ll get you some tea. You look like your back hurts, are you okay?

Just a muscle pull, that’s all, the tea would be welcome. Emily tottered away to hang my things in the closet and I yelled after her, Thanks, Emily, you’re very kind!

I can hear, dear! Just ‘cause I look like I can’t, don’t think I can’t. She chortled and her body shook. I know with that string quartet music, you’d think I couldn’t hear a thing. Go ahead and follow it and you’ll find her, Sevi dear.

The mansion’s aroma was like so many aged homes: embedded fireplace smoke, food smells, old paints, floor wax—homey. Layered on that smell was a fragrance I remembered from childhood—a combination of lavender and frankincense. I tried to breathe it in deeper, but after a few good sniffs, it seemed the smell was more in my brain than in my nose. I seemed to sense it rather than smell it—very odd, I thought. Maybe I imagined it from memory.

I passed through the arched double doorway into the impressive parlor with oriental rugs, horsehair furniture, a massive fireplace flanked by statues of lions, and windows from the floor to the twelve-foot ceiling. Sunbeams glittered off floating dust specks.

She was swaying to the music in a violet and white lace gown. Her five foot two frame rose to about five foot six in her heels. She was said to be one hundred and six years old and, from behind, she looked like she could be much younger. I remembered her at my sixteenth birthday when she was supposed to be eighty, but looked fifty or so. A rush of lavender and frankincense filled my senses.

I called out to her, Boccherini’s Minuet, very uplifting.

She turned and faced me. She looked forty.

I’m sorry, Sevi. I get so wrapped up in my music, sometimes the world disappears. I didn’t even know you came in. Why do you look so shocked? Am I too young looking? This is about as young as I can get away with now, or I’d be younger still. I don’t want to shock you too much all at once, do I? She grinned.

She moved toward me so fluidly, it was as if she floated—like a ghost in a movie. Her arms rose for a big hug and I became aware of her solid body. No ghost. I tried to smell perfume on her, but my nose gave me no result. Yet I sensed it somehow.

Yes, you look fabulous. I would have thought someone one hundred and six years old would look different. What’s your secret?

Ah secrets…yes, we all have them, don’t we? Though you have no secrets from me, do you, Sevilen? How does your back feel now?

No secrets with you, Ninee…my back? Uh, now that you mention it, it’s fine, doesn’t hurt at all. It hurt like heck when I arrived. I slipped on the ice getting the paper this morning. Did you hear Emily mention it?

Really, Sevilen, how could anyone hear what was said at the door with this music? Ninee shook her head, took my hand, and brought me over to the horsehair couch. The couch never seemed to age either. I remembered playing on it as a child. Its woodwork and Louis XVI legs looked like they were carved yesterday.

In came Emily, carrying a silver tray and teapot with translucent china teacups on it. She placed them on the coffee table, smiled, winked at me, and took off again.

Ninee filled our cups. The music shifted to a loud violin piece that seemed to mimic the cry of love lost. The music is a bit loud, isn’t it?

Ninee looked at the stereo equipment for a moment and the volume dropped to quiet background music. She handed me my cup; Jasmine wafted from the fine china. The warmth of it felt comforting, as comforting as Ninee has always been for me as a child.

Dear Sevilen, there is so much you have to learn yet. Suffice it to say, I know everything I need to know, everything about you, about anything. Same as you shall.

Glittering green eyes sparkled at me. She placed her hand on mine. Reddish brown hair framed her creamy complexion and made her look like an angel. Her delicately sculpted ears had two sets of piercings. Diamonds dangled from the lower hole, glittering as she moved.

She continued as the violins quietly cried in the background. Sevi, I have a gift for you. It’s the last task I have to fulfill here before I go. I’ve been waiting, watching you grow and experience life, until you were ready for this. This gift is nothing to ignore. It is your destiny, your purpose, your supreme calling. It comes through time from a person who was here many, many years and generations ago. My father handed me the objects before he left. He left me no instructions, but as soon as I touched them, I knew they were for you, although you were not yet born.

Ninee Aysel let go of my hand, sipped her tea, and watched me quietly. She crossed her delicate legs beneath the lace and bounced her foot as she sipped her tea. I was a little apprehensive, never having encountered Aysel speaking about mysterious things this way. She sipped and watched me. Why wasn’t she saying anything?

My engineering mind was trying to put together what she’d said, what happened to my back and the music, her scent of lavender and frankincense, her apparent youth, the way she moved—I couldn’t make sense of it. Seeming to have read my thoughts, she spoke.

Sevi, everything is as it should be. You’ll see, dear. Trust me, and all your questions will one day be answered. You are protected and will be guided.

Aysel leaned over, kissed me on the forehead, took my hand, and stood.

Come, let me show you something.

We walked hand in hand. She no longer floated, but rather, her heels clicked humanly across the hardwood floors then went silent on the oriental carpet.

She lifted her dress hem as we climbed the long staircase, and then dropped it to flow on the floor as we walked the long hall to the end.

She passed her hand over the center of an oak door with carvings of triangles, stars, snakes, and lotus petals. A loud clunk signaled it was unlocked. Aysel turned the crystal knob and the door swung open.

The room was paneled in framed, dark wood squares and the floors covered with thick, ancient carpets. There were paintings I recognized of Isaac Newton, Thomas Jefferson, and countless other faces I didn’t recognize. There were drawers and cabinet doors built into the walls.

This is our museum, so to speak. Something to spark memory, or to inform those who need to know. You need not go through all of it, but I’ll show you what you need. When your journey is complete, you’ll know all of this anyway.

Aysel passed by what appeared to be a humidity and temperature display that had a CLOSE DOOR light flashing on the panel.

Ninee, the display says to close the door.

Yes, Sevi, please go close it. This room is environmentally regulated with special lighting and atmosphere controls.

I closed the door. I passed by an ancient, but clear painting of a raven-haired beauty, but what caught my eye the most was next to it where Aysel stood. Another painting as old as the raven-haired woman’s and equally as clear.

Do you recognize this person? Aysel smiled knowingly, watching my eyes.

I studied the painting. It could have been me, except for the ancient clothing and long hair. I took in every detail. My heart pounded from the extraordinary likeness to me.

Sparkling gold highlights were woven into his shoulder-length blond hair. He wore two rings. On the little finger of the right hand, which held a scepter with a large crystal on top, was a snake ring with a ruby in its mouth between the fangs. On the middle finger of the left hand, the heavy gold ring appeared to be the face of a man, but with horns. It almost looked like…

Yes, Sevi, Christians call it Satan. It’s not. It is called Cernunnos, the male aspect of God. The snake represents the female aspect. The snake is also symbolic of Kundalini—the energy that awakens the god within by rising from the bottom chakra to the top.

You’re not Catholic? The way you said ‘Christians’…

"People think I am. It’s a good way to fit in. I was raised Catholic. I am nothing religious anymore. That is, of any formalized kind. That’s unimportant. What is important here is that you see you were this man in a time past. You won’t believe me, but as I said, trust me.

His name was Sevilen as well and, no, I didn’t influence anyone in naming you. Your name being Sevilen was a marker for me to be certain, and keep me here this long. You are my main task and why I have held my position.

Position?

My responsibility. My one goal in this life. I am here because of you. To get you started.

Aysel looked at me blankly, waiting for my response.

I looked at her as my mind raced. Position, responsibility, goal in her life? I don’t see her for years and now I’m her responsibility? What kind of crap is this?

Not crap. Please, Sevi. Have patience and you will learn everything soon enough. Back to the painting.

How the hell was she reading my mind?

Answers will come, dear.

She pointed at the painting that looked so much like me.

He’s where the power of the family comes from. Aysel waved her hand at the painting. He’s Turkish.

I thought Turks had dark hair and skin and were Muslims.

Most do, he was a Tatar. A Caucasian Tatar and had European blood in him as well. However, he was no Muslim or Christian. You see, once you have access to the Akashic records you’ll know the true purposes of all the religions, as did this Sevilen, as did Jesus.

Aysel looked at me lovingly as I stared at the painting trying to take this all in.

I felt as if I knew this man. Or was this man. I swore I could feel what he wore as if I were wearing the identical attire right then.

His shirt-like clothing felt smooth and slid easily on my skin. The gold, seven-pointed star dangling from his left earlobe tugged gently on the diamond stud holding it in place. The crescent moon tugged less on the right earlobe, held in place with a ruby red stud. The blue gemstone on his right nostril matched his eyes; I sensed it reminded him of communication for some reason. Even though he looked so much like me, he looked different, more powerful, and wiser.

You will be powerful and wise as well, Sevilen. You are here, on this earth, on this plane or realm, to learn what he knew.

Again, she heard what I had thought. How can that be?

Now this way.

Aysel walked over to a wall panel and passed her special ring over the finely carved wood. A hiss of wood sliding on wood, then a clunk. The panel popped free and cracked slightly open.

Aysel opened the panel the rest of the way with her tiny hands and long glassy white fingernails. Her rings glinted in the light. She waved a hand over one breadbox-sized drawer and it hissed, clicked, and opened. Aysel withdrew a box as ancient as the painting we just saw. She handed it to me.

It was heavy for its size. There were carvings on it of what would today be the symbol for medicine—snakes wrapped around a staff and an eagle at the top. As I held it, she opened it.

Turn it toward you, dear.

I turned it and inside were both rings from the painting, each set in a purple velvet mound with gold threads that spiraled from the base to where the rings sat. Between the two rings sat a broken, glistening, multicolored stone. It appeared to be half of a heart broken down the middle.

Pick them up. They belong to you. The stone is a combination of Phenacite, Tourmaline, and Jet. Very rare. This combination doesn’t normally occur in nature.

I stared in wonderment.

She giggled like a little girl as I handed her the box, took the rings, and put them on the fingers they fit, the same fingers as in the painting.

I looked at the stone closely. It had been in a setting at one time, since it had marks on the outer edges from a clasp. Multicolored with a predominance of purple and white, it had every color in the rainbow, plus gold and silver.

Aysel continued, This stone was not split accidentally. An immense amount of power went into it. The archangels and the man in the painting cast a spell that broke the stone and caused you to be here today. There’s another half in this realm somewhere. You’ll find it, or it will find you, and you will meet the person who has it.

Aysel paused and touched my hand. Close your eyes.

As I closed them, I saw an image like a movie playing in flashes. A funeral pyre with the raven-haired woman dead upon it. Her necklace, with this stone on it, was removed from her by the man in the painting. Lightning. A storm. A temple with four archangels, one on every side. I was there as the man in the painting and held my arms out in the center of the temple. I smelled the incense burning in the temple. I cried out, Mote it be! A blast of energy surged and the image went black.

Aysel let go of my hands. That was you and the stone was hers. You brought yourself here today without realizing it.

How did I see those images? Some kind of telekinetic mind control? What was in that tea? Is Aysel human?

Oh, Sevilen. Relax. Maybe I shouldn’t have bothered showing you those images in your mind. Anyway, the important thing is you must wear these rings and carry this stone from now on. Of course, you can take the rings off to work on things, or wash and so on, but you should wear them any other time. Likewise, keep the stone with you at all times. In its own way, it will alert you to things.

Ninee, this is crazy. I have so many questions. Please, please tell me more. Tell me about this man, these rings, this stone and why you look like you’re fortysomething and how you know so much. How are you reading my mind? Are you really my great grandmother? Are you human? Ninee, I need to know. I need answers.

Sevi, please stop calling me Ninee. Aysel will suffice. Ninee makes me feel so old.

She laughed and touched me tenderly on the shoulder then continued. Yes, yes, yes, beautiful Sevilen, you’ll get all the answers. You became an engineer so you would ask for answers. If you weren’t in search of answers, the rings and the stone would lie dormant in a drawer somewhere or end up in a pawnshop. It would take years—generations maybe—for the time to be right for this to happen again. Things are exactly as they should be at this moment. All the answers will come. Now, take them and go home. I have to get things in order for my trip.

Aysel closed the box and gave it to me. She shut the drawer and the panel. The bolts hissed and clunked again. She stood on her toes and kissed me gently on my cheek. She spun, went to the door, and waited for me to open it.

Thank you, dear.

She led me to the front door, her lavender and frankincense scent was as I always remembered. Emily reappeared with my coat and scarf and wrapped me in them. She hugged me as she said, Enjoy this life. You’re special. Believe it. Follow your heart. Emily stepped back.

Aysel came forward, gave me a big hug with tears in her eyes. I should know better than to cry, but it’s hard to do this. Be Sevilen, my dear, Sevilen that is inside you, not what they have taught you, not what they say you are, or you should be. Break your paradigms; trust in me and in the objects I gave you. Aysel backed away.

When will I see you again, Ninee, uh, Aysel?

I don’t know. We will meet again. We always will. You have things to do and so do I. I love you, Sevilen, and wish you well.

I love you, too. I trust you. I’ll do my best, though I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.

That’s all I ask.

Aysel turned and walked away with Emily. I closed the huge door of the beautiful mansion, and stepped off the porch, down the stairs, and into the snow. I wiped my watery eyes. Ravens covered the yard. They squawked as if I were someone they wanted to see.

They flew by gracefully, almost in slow motion, and then spiraled up into the falling snow. I looked back at the griffin statues on each side of the staircase and they were replaced with angels, smiling at me. I wiped my eyes again and felt a lump in my throat for fear I wouldn’t see Aysel again.

My boots squeaked through the crisp snow as I made my way to my car. I felt like I was losing someone so dear to me. She helped my parents and me greatly over the years. Now that I finally was able to see her again, she’s going away. Who, or what, is my great grandmother Aysel? Is she really my great grandmother? Why is she the way she is? What was she talking about? Why do I feel she’s going to die?

I started the car, wiped my face with my scarf, and drove home. Somehow, I had a hunch my life was never going to be the same again.

The most common ego identifications have to do with possessions, the work you do, social status and recognition, knowledge and education, physical appearance, special abilities, relationships, personal and family history, belief systems, and often nationalistic, racial, religious, and other collective identifications. None of these is you.

Eckhart Tollee

Chapter 2

Hey, Leyna, how are you this fine morning? John asked.

I flashed John my sparkling smile and threw some extra swing into my step. I felt his eyes, and the eyes of every smoking man near the entrance.

Perfect, like I always am.

John came toward me, winked, and whispered, How about us having some play time tonight? It’s been a while, Leyna.

I whispered back, Go play with your stupid wife. Want me to send her another video of us? I can’t believe she hasn’t divorced you yet.

John and I used to work together, then I moved up and he stayed down. When I became VP, he thought seducing me would help him out of his stagnant role and onto my coat tails. He was a tall, handsome nothing, like all men. I gave into his seduction and gave him the ride of his life. When I was done playing with him, I sent his wife a video of us.

We’re separated. Maybe she’ll get rid of me finally. Then I’ll be all yours.

She can keep you. I don’t need, or want you.

I walked through the revolving doors into the lobby headed for my office.

I didn’t need a man. They’re all trouble. Fun to play with, but trouble in the long run. The playing got boring, though, and now something gnawed at me daily.

Twenty-seven different men and I’d found no meaning, no excitement with them. I always ended up waking up next to their bodies, feeling disgusted, and wondering what I was doing with the turds. Then I’d go on to mess up their lives. Yet I continued to pursue one after the other, expecting to stop that gnawing. There sure wasn’t any shortage, either. I could have anyone I wanted.

Good morning, everyone! I yelled to the group. Twenty heads popped up over the cubicle walls as they waved and said their good mornings. I passed by my assistant, Jordan’s, desk and waved, since Jordan was on the phone already. Everyone loved me. At least they seemed to.

I sat at my desk, powered up my computer, and retrieved my voicemails. Oh great, Joe left me two messages. He needs to tell me something important and wants to take me out to Juan Marco’s, the most expensive restaurant in town. Great, I wondered what it could be.

Jordan rushed into my office holding a fresh mug of coffee.

Good morning, Miss DiAmore. I hope you had a nice evening last night.

I took the mug. Looked at my monitor.

Hi. Yes, nice evening,

I started sorting through emails, sipping my coffee. I had one hundred and eighteen unread emails in my inbox that morning. Oh well, I just added them to the other five hundred and sixty-seven.

Miss DiAmore, I was wondering if I could leave an hour early today.

I took my eyes off my monitor to sneer at Jordan. Jordan was easy to describe—always looked the same. Short brown hair cut above the ears and collar. Tan cotton pants, loafers, and a stiff button-down oxford shirt in blue or white with brown loafers. A man with hips and saggy man boobs, or a frumpy woman with a shadow of a mustache that always needed a closer shave. Either description worked.

To tell the truth, I didn’t know or care to know the gender of Jordan anyway—too much information. Jordan worked for me and that was all that counted. I didn’t need personal details about someone working for me. It made it harder to fire them.

I stopped looking her over, shook my head then looked her in the eyes as I leaned forward. Leave an hour early? Come on! I need you to gather those data figures for me on the Delta project. It’ll take you all day, especially because that asshole Peter screwed everything up. God, sometimes I wonder how he got the position he did, what a waste of flesh. Depending on what those data figures tell me, I might have to fire his ass, but that’s beside the point.

Miss DiAmore, I need to be home by four o’clock. I’ll have those figures for you before lunch. You know I always produce what you need before you need it.

Jordan’s reports were always on time, she made sure I never missed a meeting, and she always had my piping hot cup of coffee ready for me when I arrived in the morning.

I rolled my eyes and gave a big huff of annoyance. Fine, but only if I get my stuff by lunch. Then you can leave at three thirty. I hope this doesn’t become a habit. I looked back at my monitor and took another sip of coffee.

A habit?

I looked up again with authority in my eyes. Jordan settled down.

Yes, Miss DiAmore, you’ll have your figures by noon. Thank you.

My authority had been submitted to like it needed to be.

I needed to call Joe. I wondered what he had up his sleeve. He was so creative sometimes. Playing with him was still fun. His wife threw him out of the house a few months ago, so there was no gain in sending her a video now. Not being able to destroy his life took away the best part of the relationship.

Maybe I could mess him up some other way. I needed something to entertain me. Life was so dull sometimes.

Dreams are today’s answers to tomorrow’s questions.

Edgar Cayce

Chapter 3

I returned home from my crazy Ninee Aysel’s, put the box on the counter, and made a cup of tea. While it was steeping, I went into the living room to get a note pad and twisted my back again when I slipped on a newspaper.

As I sipped the tea, I reflected on the meeting with Aysel and made notes to clarify my thoughts, just as I would solve problems at work. I examined the objects she gave me. It was surreal, as if I’d been tossed into another world. My back was throbbing. I jotted down the details and all the questions they raised.

Making notes didn’t help as it usually did. The notes only confirmed my discomfort with it all. I was now more nervous and had more questions with how obviously abnormal it all was. I tossed the pad and it smacked onto the marble countertop.

I went upstairs, cleaned out the tub, and put half a box of Epsom salts and half a bottle of bubble bath into it. Of course, everyone knows bubbles help keep the heat in the water. Plus, they smell good.

I stripped off my clothes, slid under the bubbles and into the heat. My back muscles relaxed.

Silence, drip, silence, drip, drip, silence, silence, silence. I played with the new rings on my fingers. I reached over to my pants on the floor, took out the stone, and held it. It seemed to vibrate.

I heard my breathing diminish. My pulse beat slowly in my ear. My head moved ever so slightly with each slowing beat of my heart. I relaxed, felt the muscles in my legs, arms, and chest let go. I relaxed my face, neck, and even my eyelids. I recalled hearing that’s how one meditated. I didn’t know, but it felt good. They said you should stop all of your thoughts, too. I heard Aysel say, Everything is exactly as it should be. Yeah right.

I tried to stop my thoughts, since none of them were making me feel better, just anxious and confused. I laid there with my eyes closed in the warm wet silence. I stopped thinking about the meeting.

Shh…no thinking. Needed groceries for tonight. Needed to get wine to bring over Phil’s place. Shh…no thinking. Shh...relax the muscles again. Quiet.

There. Ahh, colors…probably having eye problems now...colors gone—just black…relax…stop thinking…shh…silence, warm, relaxed… colors again…Shlunk! Whoosh!

I passed through a tunnel then saw a woman’s face inches before mine. Smiling, with raven black, full hair, cut to her shoulders, framing a soft loving face, greenish-brown smiling eyes. White bright teeth framed with luscious full lips.

Her look changed to one of empathy. A look that said, It will be okay. Who was she? Her lips didn’t move with an answer. Why was I seeing her? She had a resemblance to the picture at Aysel’s house. That’s probably why. Just my mind playing tricks.

Her soft loving voice said, "Find me, Sevilen. We need to be together to live life. We need to help and guide each other. This is our time to be as we were. This is our time to continue where we left off and to move the family and the planet forward.

What happened to you in this life has happened for a reason. Now you can realize what the power of the universe is, the true power. You may have trouble accepting the teachings at first, but the universe will conspire to help you understand. It is time, it is your destiny, and I need your help. Be diligent, listen closely, have no fear.

I couldn’t take my eyes off of her. She radiated a feeling that made me feel alive and loved.

She continued, Yes, let it fade. Anger, fear, anxiousness, and boredom are all lower level emotions and have no place in your new world. You must release it and allow higher energies to replace it. The first place to begin is to love and treat yourself well. Don’t give up on the rest of life. Balance is the key. Heal yourself.

Her image pulled back slightly, but she didn’t leave. She was cloaked in an ethereal, gossamer thin, indigo blue gown and had the shape of a goddess—slim yet shapely, with silken skin. She appeared to be about six or seven inches shorter than I was as I stood before her. She took my hands and placed them on her shoulders.

Explore me, I am for you to savor, to feel what it is that makes true lovers attracted to one another.

She slid my hands over her satiny curves. She moved toward me and settled against me. I smelled her hair so sweet and her skin like flower petals. We reclined; supported by something sensual and smooth, yet invisible. She wrapped her arms around me as we drifted. An energy of sorts gently flowed between and through us, as we seemed to merge forms. I was lost in her. I tried to analyze what was happening.

In a start, I woke in cold water. My back felt fine now and my body felt refreshed. What happened? Had I fallen asleep? Was it a dream? I remembered her face, her body, her voice, her love. Great. I was living in a fantasy world now.

I looked at the stone. It was glowing, from the water maybe, the way it made it shine. I held it tight. It felt comforting.

I heard her speak in my mind, No, love, not a dream, a premonition of what is to come that was once before. Be patient, you need to help me in the earth plane. Be patient. Do things for yourself today. Love yourself. Good things will come.

Shit, shit, shit! Making up voices in my head now. I stood, rinsed off, and got dressed.

I decided to listen to the woman in my dream and be good to myself today. Heck, why not? So what if I imagined all this stuff. I decided to get some tasty groceries like lobster and clams, and a good wine and cheese, and some exotic fruits for a start. Forget going to Phil’s. I wouldn’t be very social after this anyway. I needed to relax so clarity could return and replace this madness.

It was all about wanting to get revenge. Pathetic really, but it still is the motivation.

Julian Clary

Chapter 4

Juan Marco’s, Joe. Thank you. You must have something good to tell me. I smiled and squeezed his hand as we followed the maitre d’ to our seats. Joe’s blue eyes flickered and he grimaced as if he’d been stabbed. What he was going to tell me couldn’t be good.

Uh, Leyna, yeah...oh, here’s our table.

Joe held my chair so I could tuck my dress under me. There was barely enough dress to tuck anyway, so I definitely needed both hands. Our table was private, in a corner by a window with curtains on the lower half that we could look over to the street. Perfect. A plan was taking shape.

So what’s the special occasion?

Joe ran a hand through his thick salt and pepper hair and smiled.

The waiter came over. Would you like something to drink?

I faked a smile. Dirty Kettle One vodka martini, up, with cheese stuffed olives, extra dirty, like triple X-rated dirty. He’ll have the same.

The waiter looked at Joe.

Joe shrugged. Yeah, like the boss said.

Okay, out with it, what’s the occasion?

Joe took a box out of his suit-coat pocket and handed it to me. It was wrapped in familiar paper and ribbon—from the same jewelry store many gifts for me came from. For the most beautiful woman in the world.

I looked at him wondering. The face he’d made earlier didn’t line up with him giving me a gift, unless it was a parting gift. The box was too big for a ring. What the hell was he up to?

I opened the wrapping and crumpled up the paper. The black velvet case opened to reveal a gold bracelet studded with emeralds. It was my favorite jewel, since it was the color of my favorite thing—money.

I stared at it in thought.

Take it out and try it on. They said it would fit you.

It was gorgeous and it did fit perfectly. Must have cost a bunch. I’d guess at least a couple thousand. I held it out and watched as it caught the light.

Thanks, Joe. It’s beautiful.

I leaned over and kissed him gently on the lips. Now, tell me what’s up.

Joe looked at me with an expressionless face. He was silent. He looked out to the street at a man and a woman passing by, arm in arm. He looked back at me and held my hand on the table, looking into my eyes.

Uh, Leyna, I hope this doesn’t mean we can’t get together anymore. We’ll just have to be more careful. I mean, I’d terribly miss you and the fun we have together.

What do you mean?

I’m back together with my wife. Sorry.

I didn’t want to let him think it was a big deal, since I immediately knew what I wanted to do to him. I was right. The bastard. And he still wants to see me? Wouldn’t that be delightful for him? Men are such assholes. Like monkeys."

I put my hand on his and smiled. I’m so happy for you! That’s wonderful. Of course it won’t interfere with us. What we have is special.

I slid my hand under the tablecloth and onto the thigh of his black silk pants where I scratched up and down with my long nails.

He put his hand on mine, as if he could stop me.

I leaned in to kiss him on the lips and forced my hand out from under his, moved it further up his leg and squeezed him. I whispered in his ear, Oh Joe, I think that makes it even more exciting knowing you two are back together. Knowing you’ll always have to go home worn out from me and turn her down.

Two triple X-rated dirty martinis with cheese-stuffed olives. The waiter placed them carefully before us and smiled at what was going on. I kept my hand on Joe and moved my arm back and forth so the waiter could imagine more, and I could further embarrass Joe. Joe’s eyes were wide as the waiter chuckled and left.

Leyna, stop, Joe whispered in my ear with no action to make me.

I stopped. God, did you have to do that? Imagine what the waiter is thinking now.

Pretty exciting wasn’t it? I leaned back, crossed my legs to the side of the table so he could see them, and bounced one high-heeled foot. Now you’ll be ready for a good long workout tonight."

I can’t tonight. My wife is coming over tomorrow morning to help me move out of the apartment. How about tomorrow? I’ll tell her I’m going out with the guys. He leaned his muscled back firmly against the chair and adjusted his coat and tie looking stern. He sipped his martini.

Nice guy you are. I unfastened another button on my dress so he could see the edge of my red, pushup bra and my flesh with the gold heart he gave me dangling between creamy cleavage. Let’s have a couple more drinks, eat dinner, and see where we end up. I’ll bet you twenty bucks we end up at your place. Don’t worry. I’ll be gone before morning.

We finished our drinks and ordered another round. He went to the men’s room and I put a powdered Viagra in his drink and stirred it up. He never tasted it.

We ordered dinner. Raw oyster appetizers followed by a four-pound Maine lobster we paired with a bottle of a New Zealand Sauvignon Blanc with a beautiful floral scent to it. It was wonderful. Joe helped me get the meat out of the shell and I helped Joe get the bone back in his meat. The Viagra made sure it would stay that way.

Joe, I have brand new pink fuzzy handcuffs in my bag, one set for each wrist and one set for each ankle.

How can I resist you? You drive me wild.

The monkey handed me twenty bucks.

I always win, baby. I put the twenty in my bag.

But you have to be out of my apartment by nine tomorrow morning.

Yeah, fine, you know I like to get home early anyway. As long as we can play all night, I won’t be so sad to go.

I softly ran my index finger from his wrist to his elbow and rubbed his leg under the table with my five-inch heel. I brushed my tongue over my scarlet lips as he placed his hand on my upper thigh.

I walked in front of Joe while he carried his suit coat over his arm to hide the front of his pants. I teased him further while he drove to his place, making him crazy.

We arrived at his apartment and I ran into the bathroom to freshen up. I slipped my dress off and left on my sheer red teddy that barely covered my ass, which was fine because he’d see the red lace garter belt and suntan hose. I applied a thick layer of scarlet lipstick on my lips. Oh, this was going to be fun.

I touched up my makeup and hair. What a knockout. I got excited just looking at myself in the mirror. I turned on the cheap digital recorder I brought and slipped it in the back of my garter belt.

I heard my favorite sex music playing from his booming speakers…smooth, sexy jazz. He knows how to set the mood all right. I came out of the bathroom and he had lit about twenty long taper candles. Joe’s chiseled, six foot three, hard body was naked on the bed with the Viagra showing how ready he was for me.

I sat next to him and crossed my legs. I have a treat for you tonight, baby. Do you remember what I told you at dinner?

No, you bad girl. Remind me.

Come on, you remember. They’re pink and fuzzy.

Oh yeah, the new handcuffs. I thought I was going to strap you down and pleasure every inch of your luscious skin.

As wonderful as that sounds, I want to use them on you tonight. I want to please you, sweetheart, making this a night you’ll never forget. When you’re having a boring night at home with the wife, I want you to remember this night and how magnificent I made you feel.

God, Leyna, you are such a bitch. Bring it on! Make me shudder all over, baby!

I put the cuffs on his wrists and ankles and clasped them to the bed securely. I tossed the four keys across the room and heard them clatter against the wall behind the dresser.

I kissed him all over, reapplying lipstick regularly, to be sure to leave good marks all over. When I was near the nightstand, I put the recorder on it, out of his vision. The blinking red light told me it was running.

Sorry, I gotta pee. You’ll be here when I get back, right?

I’ll be ready for you. I love your sweet torture. I want you to ride me, baby. Drive me wild like you always do.

Yeah, we’ll see, sweetie. I’ll be right back. Hold tight.

I looked at the bracelet he placed on my wrist at dinner. It shimmered even in the dim light of the uncovered light bulb that hung from the bathroom ceiling. He’d spent a fortune on it. Whatever. His loss.

I wrote a cute message on the mirror in my lipstick.

Thanks for the ride! ~ Your favorite girl. His wife will love reading that.

I heard him whining, Come back. I want you. I love your surprises, baby. So creative and sexy.

I took my panties to the head of the bed.

I have to keep you quiet, since this is gonna drive you wild. Here comes the gag so you can yell out and not make lots of noise.

I stuffed my red panties into his mouth and he accepted them willingly, his eyes showing his delight. I wrapped a spare stocking around his head and tied it to hold them in place.

Joe started to wriggle on the bed in his secure restraints. Mmm, uck me, leeze!

Okay, baby. Here I come. Tell me who’s your favorite girl.

I climbed on the bed and we both made plenty of music for his wife to hear on the recorder.

Of course, the monkey fell asleep. I left him cuffed to the bed, panties in his mouth, and shut the recorder off, placing it where his wife would be sure to see it when she arrived.

I dressed and left the apartment door unlocked for his wife.

I had accomplished my objective and I had proven my dominance. I felt like a female black widow that eats the male after she’s used them. Smart insect. Gives the male true purpose—as food.

The only true wisdom is in knowing you know nothing.

Socrates

Chapter 5

What is that ringing? I was half-awake when I realized it must be the alarm. No, it’s Sunday. I picked up the phone.

Hello?

Hello. This is Alexander Nefedov. I am, was, your great grandmother, Aysel’s, lawyer and financial administrator. Are you Sevilen Decarain?

His voice was deep and commanding, yet respectful and gentle.

Yes, that’s me.

Mr. Decarain, I am sorry to have to deliver this over the phone, but there is much to do. You see, your Ninee Aysel passed away last night. Evidently, in her sleep. The night before, she called to pick up some papers in the morning. She asked me to meet her at her house at seven, so I was concerned when no one answered. As it was, the door was open and I went inside. I found her and Emily lying peacefully, and quite cold, in her bedroom upstairs. I called the undertaker and, since you are the listed beneficiary of her assets, I have called you.

Beneficiary? Aysel and Emily are dead?

Yes, yes, so sorry.

I just saw her yesterday. Oh my God. She looked and acted fine and so did Emily...Aysel said she was going somewhere.

I’d sensed it was the last time I’d see her, but I never thought her and Emily would commit suicide.

Mister Decarain. Are you still there?

Yes, yes, what can I do?

Nothing right now. I will handle everything. You see, I have handled your family’s financial and other dealings for many years. If you choose to keep me, I would be honored to serve you, as I did Aysel and the others.

Of course, Mister…

Please, my lord, call me Alexander.

My lord? No. Call me Sevilen, Alexander.

Yes, Sevilen. I see you are like the others. You have humility and you are able to relate to the commoner.

I am a commoner.

Indubitably not, sir. There is one thing. Your Ninee left a handwritten note for you by her bedside. I can deliver it, or you can pick it up.

I’ll pick it up.

Okay. I will wait at the house for you and keep it safe until you arrive. Take your time. I can take care of things from here.

Thanks.

No thanks necessary, my lo...Sevilen.

I raced to shower and dress, grabbing a handful of cashews on my way out the door for a quick breakfast. I had a feeling my life had taken a complete turn and would never be the same again. After yesterday, and now this guy calling me lord, it was as if I was on a runaway freight train.

I drove up the switchback driveway, through the oaks, up the hill to the house. Oh my God had it changed. Gutters hanging down, broken front porch, slate stairs in disrepair sliding down the hill with the railing lying on top of them. The griffins lay on their sides. I made my way to the door, walked over the holes in the porch, and went to pull the bell cord that wasn’t there. I tried to knock on the door as it opened.

Lord Sevilen. I am Alexander.

Six foot six, dark skinned with black hair and eyes. His warm smile softened an otherwise intimidating exterior. He wore an impeccable black wool pinstriped suit. His firm handshake was connected to his eyes as he looked deeply into mine, took my arm in his other hand, and shook it. He smiled at me as if we were old friends.

Lord Sevilen…I’m uncomfortable with that title.

Sorry, sir, I am not used to addressing a person of your abilities and stature any differently, but I can learn. It does not help that you look like someone I’d always called lord. Please forgive me.

Yes, forgiven. Go on.

I am so pleased to meet you and to have the honor of continuing my services. Please come in and I will show you. He was nearly bubbling with excitement rather than filled with grief.

I stepped through the doorway and into the scent of a dark, dank old house. There was no trace of Aysel’s fragrance or the homey scents that welcomed me yesterday.

The room where she’d danced was worn and tattered. A stained and oxidized silver tea set sat on the coffee table. Alexander motioned for me to sit on the ragged horsehair couch by the decayed coffee table. He sat beside me and took a stack of papers from the table.

His dark eyes radiated warmth and caring. He smiled and paused as if he couldn’t believe I was there. It is so good to meet you. You cannot imagine how pleased I am to be working with you.

Grinning, he stared at me for a moment, and then focused on the papers. This is a listing of the assets that will be passed to you. It is only a portion of the wealth of the family legacy, but it is the portion used by the Designated One. You are the Designated One now. Lady Aysel was the Designated One until her passing. The rest of the assets of the family are in a trust for access by any other family member, should the need arise. However, it is not usually touched, as all have to make their way. The Designated One requires the portion they have as a resource to aid them in their duties.

Designated One? I looked at the list. Stocks and bonds, gold and silver, major holdings in major corporations, cash in different currencies, all with a value listed. Huge amounts. I flipped to the last page of the spreadsheet. My heart raced.

Is that true? Those assets?

Yes, sir. Of course, they are already worth more than when that was printed. I presented you with a file copy instead of taking the time to print a new one. I hope you don’t mind.

Tell me the number. How much?

Somewhere around seventy-seven billion.

Billion? And that’s only part of it?

The part that goes to you, the rest fuels the main fund and is a backup for this fund.

Seventy-seven b-b-b-billion. What could anyone possibly do with all of that money?

First, quit your job. Then perform the duties of the Designated One.

Quit my job? What the hell? This is all so overwhelming. What does a Designated One do?

You’ll know what to do, Alexander said quite matter-of-factly. I looked at him as I tried to make sense of things. His big eyes blinked slowly. I looked around the house.

Alexander, why is the house such a wreck? Yesterday it was perfect.

Aysel was rather frugal. Since her magic was so powerful, she never needed to take care of physical things. She created whatever she wanted.

Magic? So she didn’t look fortysomething?

She looked however she intended to. She could change your perception of her or change her physical body. You see, Lady Aysel was highly developed spiritually. She had learned everything there was to know. In the eastern terms, they would say she was the fully opened lotus, or Samadhi. She is a magi, mystic, messiah, a god in her own right. She could heal, walk on water—use the laws of nature to her desire.

He waited for me to respond, but I couldn’t. I stared at him with my jaw hanging. He loosened his tie, nodded, and went on.

Einstein’s equation of E=MC squared—energy (E) equals mass (M) times the speed of light (C) squared—says that matter and energy are the same, one can be converted to the other. She could do that and she tapped into the universe’s energy the way the Designated One always has. She could increase her will stream to equal to her consciousness stream and thus tap into any other consciousness and create changes.

You mean like change peoples’ perceptions or memories?

His eyebrows rose. Very good, my lord. Excuse me, sir, Sevilen. Your obvious education and intelligence will do you well. He patted my shoulder like a proud father and continued.

"If you’re interested, there are a number of good sources to help your engineering brain better understand this. Dr. Evan Harris Walker is the author of ‘The Physics of Consciousness’. He has a doctorate in Physics and has made major contributions in astronomy, physics, neurophysiology, psychology and medicine, and founded the Walker Cancer Institute. He has published over a hundred papers in scientific journals and holds a dozen patents. He speaks of the will stream and the consciousness stream.

Then there is ‘The Seat of the Soul’ by Gary Zakov, a quantum physicist. There are many other resources, as well, to help validate and explain the way Aysel and her kind do these things. Quantum physics has come close to explaining this phenomenon, as our consciousness wouldn’t exist without a quantum exchange. Does this help any?

I guess. It sounds pretty out of this world, though I do like your scientific approach to the answer.

Lady Aysel said I should learn these things for you, since you were an engineer and might feel better in the world of science. Don’t worry, there is a saying that when the student is ready, the teacher will appear. I believe you are ready, or Aysel would not have given you the things she did.

Alexander reached into his suit pocket. With both hands and a bow of his head, he presented a folded piece of old linen stationary. The kind someone would write a love letter on years ago, years before the days of e-mail and phones, when it took days to deliver. Then, when it finally arrived, the reader connected to their lover through the handwriting, the essence they may have scented it with, and the saturation of the writer’s love.

I caressed the linen, a faded yellowish color. I opened it. It had a hand painted rose at the top. The handwriting made me melt. It was a formal, graceful scroll of penmanship, impeccably feminine and beautiful to look at. The kind of script no one has time to learn today. I brought it to my nose, nothing. After a moment, I began to read it to myself.

Sevilen,

I was so pleased to see you today. I am leaving this note just as a reminder that all is as it should be. Do not mourn me. I’m fine. We will meet again very soon. Now you have all the resources, and you are the Designated One. Learn well. Trust Alexander as I have.

Love and Light,

Aysel

As I read the last words, I smelled Aysel’s lavender and frankincense fragrance. I sniffed the paper and it wasn’t there. I sniffed the air. Alexander put his hand on my shoulder.

Lady Aysel put her energy into that note and where her energy goes, so will her fragrance. Just as some say that when an angel is near, one can smell sweetness. It is an indication of their ethereal abilities.

Why would she and Emily commit suicide? She seemed to have everything, along with youth.

It wasn’t suicide. They only gave up their mortal shell. Answers will come. You’ll see, my lord. Sorry...Sevilen. Alexander still looked joyous, as if he had met a long-lost friend. His happiness radiated. It was a little unsettling.

Don’t be unsettled, my lord. Relax.

Did he just read my mind?

Is there a museum room upstairs?

Yes, I suppose you could call it that.

Can I go see it again?

You can do whatever you’d like. Everything here is yours. You are the Designated One.

Would you come with me?

I’d be honored.

I folded the letter from Aysel and placed it in my pocket as we both started upstairs, following the path Aysel and I had taken the day before. The door looked the same; the only thing that hadn’t decayed.

Do you have her rings, Alexander? The key was in the ring, I think.

Alexander chuckled and said, No…you have the key.

I don’t. Aysel waved her hand over it. It must have been an electronic key in her ring. I don’t have it.

Alexander smiled and patted me on the shoulder.

I forget you don’t remember yet. This isn’t an earthly key or some mechanical or electrical connection. You are one of the few who can open it. You need to only think it open. Feel inside for the hidden bolts, which no one can reach, and slide them open. It’s very simple for you.

I stood staring at him with what I’m sure was a lost look on my face. For long enough, I guessed, because he took my hand and waved it over the door.

Like that. See the bolts inside. See them move as you pass your hand over. You can. Feel it, don’t think it. Trust me. Remember?

Alexander seemed to be enjoying this and was quite patient. I waved my hand and felt silly. Nothing. I waved again. Nothing. I looked at the door and closed my eyes. I could see the bolt inside. I pointed at it and motioned with my finger. I saw it move inside, and I heard a CLUNK. I flipped my finger back, CLUNK.

I looked at Alexander and he laughed. Very good. Now do it with your eyes open. You don’t want to have to close your eyes every time you use your skills.

I did as he asked and sure enough, the door unlocked. He turned the crystal knob and opened it.

The room was almost empty this time. There were only two paintings on the wall. One of myself, or the old namesake, and the one next to it that I passed by yesterday.

Where did it all go?

You haven’t uh…downloaded it yet, so to speak. You will. The two portraits are here because you’ve downloaded them. The rest of the items were here due to Lady Aysel. Did Lady Aysel show you these?

Just the one that looks like me.

Then you already had information given to you if you can see the other. Let’s look closer.

We walked past the monitor and it again said CLOSE DOOR, which Alexander did. I walked up to the raven-haired painting. As I approached, I saw the gossamer, indigo blue, ethereal gown. It revealed her form completely. I looked into her eyes, at her lips, her skin.

She’s real? I had a dream about her yesterday.

She’s very real. Her name, as well as yours, is the same as they were in the 1400s. Leyna and Sevilen.

Her name is Leyna?

He looked me in the eye to be sure I heard him correctly and went on. Yes, Leyna. She’s somewhere on this planet, but there’s a problem, for she is as you were yesterday. Unaware. She hasn’t fully developed her potential yet. You have some of your powers, once you waken to them, an inheritance if you will, from the Sevilen in the painting. An inheritance worth much more than your monetary assets. Did she say something in the dream?

Yes, a lot, but mainly that I needed to find her.

You will. Aysel will help. You two were together before. In order to help her, you’ll need to take her through the gates, of which there are seven. It seems she can’t get past the third and totally misuses the abilities she has obtained from one and two. Then, the two of you will be again as you were, and a powerful force for good.

Gates?

Gates. Doors. Have you heard of Chakras?

Some. New age nonsense, isn’t it?

No, more like ancient. It will be in your downloads, I’m sure.

I glanced at the paintings again. They were definitely something to behold. I looked around the room at the other blank walls staring back as if I had stolen their property. Download, hmm.

Well, Alexander, when is this download supposed to occur?

I am not certain, sir. You’ll know when it happens.

Well, what should I do?

Whatever you wish.

Give me a hint. What would you do?

Hmm, I think I would fix this house back up. He gazed around the parlor. "Physically, that is. So you can present it properly to your visitors. I would also prepare a resignation letter and terminate your present employment. I would keep that stone and those rings with you always, purchase some new clothes, and a new vehicle. Aysel didn’t use vehicles,