TAKEN--A Metaphysical Fantasy Audio Drama

DIVIDED: #9 - That's Why She Has the Garment.

• V. Morrow • Season 2 • Episode 9

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SET YOUR MIND on things above with TAKEN--A Metaphysical Fantasy Audio Drama. AND NOW the ADVENTURE CONTINUES with DIVIDED--The Days of Peleg.

Bow to the Image! Has the whole world gone mad? Or is there something wrong with a statue that speaks and the giant man who makes the people worship it? Peleg is virtually alone in his misgivings. Meanwhile, all the rest of Shinar follows the mighty hunter Nimrod in building a Tower to reach the gates of heaven and even the Ancient One Himself. Could the mysterious encounters and cruel whispers heard since the Tower Temple's construction lead to something good? To Peleg the matter is simple, find someone who remembers the truth, someone who still hears The Voice—before it's too late. So, Peleg embarks on a journey to learn the secrets his great ancestors Methuselah and Enoch knew. Little does Peleg realize, Enoch—the very one, taken so long ago to a dimension outside space and time—and his son Methuselah are both working just as fervently toward the same goal. With the aid of a wise, old King, the tales from the stones, and the "knowing" that burns, Peleg may be mankind's only hope to stop the darkness descending from the Tower. Never again will a Flood destroy the earth, the Ancient One promised—next time it will be Fire!

Also please check back for upcoming chapters on this Podcast channel. 

 Remember, “Eye has not seen, nor ear heard, Nor have entered into the heart of man, The things which God has prepared for those who love Him.”  PLEASE share this UPLIFTING READ with your friends and get ready to SOAR. THANK YOU AGAIN FOR LISTENING and MAY THE FAVOR OF THE ANCIENT ONE BE ON YOU.
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Chapter 9 – That’s Why She Has the Garment

 

Methuselah’s Time: Location—Plains of Avenland, Adamah, First Dimension.

Enoch was relieved when they entered the atmosphere of Adamah. He breathed deeply and sighed. The air did not have the crisp, jubilant quality of the Third Realm, but it smelled like—home. He was glad to feel the cool mist rising above the ground and gentle breeze blowing through the plains of Avenland. All his kinsmen filed into the place of gathering, holding their tribal banners high, but wailing and lamenting as they went.

It just hit him. Mother Eve is dead. 

A tear trickled down his face, then another and another. He frowned, confused at the feelings. In Heaven’s Realm, when the Beloved told him the news, her passing did not bother him in the slightest. But now—Enoch’s throat constricted—his jaw tensed with the pressure of holding back the travail he felt. He reached out to Father Seth who was passing by.

“Father Seth!” he called out.

The elder did not even glance his way.

Enoch waved both hands, this time, wildly in the air.

Father Seth walked by without stopping.

“Enoch,” Delmar said, “do not tire yourself. They cannot see you.”

“Why not?” Enoch touched his chest and arms. “I am here.” Enoch tried to flag down Father Seth again. 

“Please, Enoch,” Delmar said gently, “calm yourself and rest.”

“I may be a son of Adam, but I am no toddling childling. I am not tired!” Enoch stomped his foot. The moment he did so he felt the ground sway beneath him. His knees buckled.

“Whoa there, little fella!” Onami said, catching his fall. “What’s got you so worked up this time?”

“I am not worked up— I am just—” Enoch tried to explain.

“Tired.” Delmar said. “You feel as if every muscle in your body has been drained of life. Your head is pounding, and you can feel your heartbeat in your ear drums?”

“Yes—how did you know?” Enoch asked.

“Your spirit has been transitioned to the dominant position and now encloses your flesh—plus, you have just taken your first trip through multiple dimensions. You are experiencing core-lag and mis-dimensionality,” Delmar said. 

“Core what?” Enoch’s speech slurred as Onami placed him gently on the ground.

Delmar explained, “In other words, your mind needs to adjust to the dominance of your spirit body instead of your temporal body. As we speak, your brain is busy reconfiguring synapses throughout your nervous system. This process was delayed when we took the “scenic route” through the expanse. Since we didn’t use the chariot until half route—by the way, the chariot has all the accommodations for acclimatizing various life forms for dimensional travel—your sensory receptors are out of sync and—.”

“Okay class, enough of Dimension Biology 101,” Onami interrupted, “You can update Enoch later.” He pointed straight ahead. “Look, there is Methuselah.” 

Methuselah stood in ceremonial formation with the Elders. Tiph’arah was nearby, chanting the memorial with the other Medici. 

Enoch waved again, trying to get their attention. “For truth,” Enoch sighed, “I had hoped for a moment to speak with my son.” He dropped his head. None of his family or tribe was aware of Enoch, who now looked almost identical in brightness to the Guardians standing by his side. 

“Don’t take it personally, Enoch,” Onami said. “Most sons of Adam have their flesh in the dominant position and cannot perceive our realm.”

“What do you mean our realm? We are on Adamah now—the first dimension,” Enoch said. 

“True, but all the higher dimensions flow through to the lower ones. We are in the First Dimension, Adamah, and inside the Third Dimension of Heaven’s Realm at the same time. Think of it like a small box, inside of a larger box, inside of an even larger box. Those of us in the upper dimensions have eyes to see the box within the box. But those confined in the First Dimension only have eyes to see inside the small box that contains them.”

Enoch looked confused.

“Never mind, don’t worry about it,” Onami said. “You don’t have to understand everything right now. When it is time, I’ll show you how to reveal yourself to Methuselah.”

“Good,” Azam said, who had never taken his gaze off the gathering. He scanned the perimeter of the farthest tents, looking for signs of the Fallen. “We seem to be in the clear for the moment. This should be simple enough for you two to handle on your own. I’ll return to Heaven’s Realm through the gate on Mt. Arata. But I have orders to assist you here on Adamah as needed. Just contact me if you need support.”

“Of course, Captain,” Onami said absently, giving him a quick salute. He didn’t notice Captain Azam disappear in a flash. He was already busy focusing on his assignment, Methuselah, and the woman who stood nearby—Tiph’arah. I wonder what trouble she has gotten herself into now. Onami was surprised to see her so composed when most of the other tribesmen were sobbing uncontrollably. “Look Delmar, we were right! She has the tunic. Maybe it’s giving her strength?”

“My analysis was correct,” Delmar said, satisfied with his deductive skills. “But I think it is too soon to assume the garment is relaying any sort of—”

“Of course, the tunic is giving her strength,” Enoch interrupted, examining his cousin,

“How do you know?” Onami and Delmar spoke simultaneously.

“The Beloved told me.”

•••

Methuselah’s Time: Location—Plains of Avenland, Adamah, First Dimension. 

Tiph’arah shifted uncomfortably in the heavy leather tunic. Her throat ached from stifling back sobs. Everyone was crying and wailing. Tiph’arah was determined not to. She clenched her jaw and stared straight ahead at the plains, tuning out the chants and songs of remembrance sung by the talebearers around the altar of fire. The whole tribe of Seth joined the procession, parading Mother Eve’s body from her Soku home at the top of the Seven Hills, down to the plain of Avenland where her life would be honored for the next seven days. Adam and Eve’s first-born sons and daughters—the Golden Soku—led the way carrying the golden banners of the first generation. Then the Medici followed behind, offering incense from oil-filled lamps; next the Elders surrounded the Medici as they said prayers to the Ancient Father in unison. Finally, generation after generation of sons and daughters of Adam trailed behind, carrying the colored banners of their tribe, until all the people of the Seti of Seth filled the plain at the bottom of the Seven Hills. 

Tiph’arah looked to her right. With chin-up and head held high, Methuselah walked along-side her in full regalia, praying the words of passage with the other Elders. He should have taken the lead place as Enoch’s son. However, the Council was not yet persuaded that Enoch would not return. Methuselah had done his best to tell the Council what happened to Enoch that night, but to no avail. Methuselah had even Tiph’arah asked to come along to serve as a witness. But all the Elders, even Father Seth, completely dismissed her dream of Enoch disappearing with the B’Nai Elohim.

Your imagination is just roaming as the gazelle. 

Too much time in the hot sun of the plain has made your mind faint.

No, no, the Bearer of the Seed will return. Elder Enoch just needs more time communing with the Ancient Father. He will return as always. We must be patient.

“Elders indeed! Always the last to act,” Tiph’arah muttered, a little too loudly.

“Shhh!” Medici Dinah raised a finger to her lips and then pointed upwards. “Reverence the Ancient Father, Medici Tiph’arah!” she whispered angrily. “Just because you wear Eve’s garment does not mean you can disregard protocol.”

Tiph’arah lost step with the cadence for a moment, surprised at Medici Dinah’s venom. “Yes, Medici Dinah,” she replied quickly, just to keep the peace among the circle of Medici and even the Elders who now glanced at them with curiosity.

Tiph’arah squared her shoulders and gave a quick nod for the procession to continue.

Just then she caught Methuselah’s eye. 

He made a face, shook his index finger at her, and grinned.

Tiph’arah glanced over quickly at Medici Dinah. The older Medici stared straight ahead with flushed cheeks and furrowed brow.

Tiph’arah looked back at Methuselah and shrugged her shoulders, almost dropping her lamp and spilling its contents.

Methuselah pursed his lips to keep from laughing. 

That is just what Enoch would have done. Tiph’arah raised her lamp high and joined in the prayers of remembrance. He never gave way to sorrow. Tiph’arah studied Methuselah carefully as he recited his portion of the lament. When he spoke, the peace of the One Mind spread across the gathering. The bitter wailing quieted. Someone began the song of rejoicing. Methuselah is very much like his father, not in his outward appearance, but in his manner. He is the Bearer of the Seed.

Tiph’arah caught her breath with the realization. Her teasing words all these years were true. “With Enoch gone, Methuselah really is our only hope.”

Tiph’arah took two rhythmic steps and tapped her lamp twice to start the dance of life, as the beginning of a plan formed in her mind. “I just need to make the Council see that the favor of the Ancient One be on Methuselah, for truth.”

•••

Tiph’arah waited until moon’s peak, when most of the tribe was drifting off to sleep under the stars on the plains of Avenland, to pack for Nod. She pulled Methuselah to the side as soon as there was a break in the songs and chants.

“We leave for Nod at first light.”

“Surely, you cannot be serious! We are in the middle of Mother Eve’s ceremony. The Elders will not approve—”

“Are you breaking your promise, Bearer?” Tiph’arah asked innocently.

“What! No— no of course not,” Methuselah said, surprised at her using the title to address him. “It is just that—”

“That is what I thought. I am on my way to load my forerunner. I will meet you back here at sun’s birth.” 

She left, racing up the pathway to the hills before he could reply.

•••

“Good,” Onami motioned for Enoch and Delmar, who were still busy discussing dimensional biology near Methuselah’s tent, to follow. “Methuselah’s alone now, Enoch. You can deliver the tunic and we will be on our—”

“Wait! I see Dinah.” Enoch stopped in his tracks. “Do you think I could speak with her for a moment? I did not have a chance to say goodbye before—” he trailed off as his wife approached the Medici’s tent nearby. She was obviously distraught. Her shoulders heaved. Her eyes and cheeks were swollen from crying. Tears filled his eyes too. “Dinah is taking Mother Eve’s death hard. Plus, I don’t know how Methuselah explained my leaving—”

Delmar and Onami surrounded Enoch. 

Delmar placed a hand on Enoch’s shoulder. “I am sorry Enoch. When the Beloved assigns us a task, we cannot step outside our bounds—and neither can you from this point forward.”

“You were not sent here to speak with Dinah—only Methuselah,” Onami added curtly.

“The Hidden Father will give Dinah peace in all things. Let that bring you comfort.”

Enoch clinched his jaw, looking anything but comfortable.

“I will be more comfortable when we have fulfilled our mission,” Onami said, drawing a bow from his quiver. He pointed it toward the path to the Seven Hills. “We just missed our chance.”

“What are you doing? You can’t shoot the elders just to get them to leave?”

“Shhh—Don’t be silly. I am not going to injure the humans. I think I saw movement up the path,” Onami whispered.

•••

A faint howl echoed in the distance. Just then Methuselah emerged from his tent. He ushered the Elders out and threw his sack over his shoulder. “I will relay news of Nod when I return,” he called out to the last of the bearded men leaving his tent. He bowed to the Elder, “May the Hidden Father be with you as well.” 

Methuselah looked toward the top of the Seven Hills. “What is taking her so long?” he muttered. “Tiph’arah’s as swift as a gazelle. She should have returned by now.”

There was that sound again. 

All the hairs on Methuselah’s arm stood up. 

“Tiph’arah!” he whispered, dropping his sack.

Methuselah bolted full speed up the path to the Seven Hills.

(“We’ll track him. Let’s go!” Onami said, running ahead. “I’ll secure the front. Delmar, you and Enoch guard the rear.”)

•••

Tiph’arah heaved as she rounded the last ascent and made her way toward the Medici’s abode near Father Seth’s quarters. Her four-runner stood ready, still tied to the post. But the animal seemed skittish. “Hey, there.” Tiph’arah rubbed the four-runner’s mane. “Easy, now.” The animal grunted and pulled at the post, trying to leave. Tiph’arah laughed. “I am ready to go too—calm down. I just need to—” The beast jerked at the post, rose on her two hind-legs, and screamed. 

Tiph’arah jerked her head toward the dark path and simultaneously put a hand on her thigh, feeling for her dagger. 

Something growled—low and hidden.

A wolf! Tiph’arah forced herself to calm her racing heart. Probably just a stray.

Tiph’arah pressed her body against the four-runner and carefully lifted the rope from the post. The beast wasted no time as it turned and bolted away in the opposite direction. 

Tiph’arah expected the creature to reveal itself and chase after the four-runner. But it didn’t.

She saw a pair of golden eyes approach from the dark path. Tiph’arah readied her dagger. One throw should do it. She raised her right arm slightly, took a deep breath and—

Three sets of golden eyes appeared behind the first creature. 

Tiph’arah froze. She recalculated and took two steps back toward the door. She placed her left hand on her waist searching for her brand, new blade. Did I bolt the door?

Four huge, mangy wolves now walked slowly toward her, growling.

“So, you do not want easy prey,” Tiph’arah muttered. They could have easily captured the four-runner and sated their appetite. “Rebellious blood-lust beasts!” Now she was mad. 

“Fine!” Tiph’arah said, stepping back to put one foot on the door behind her.

She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, exhaled, and waited.

The growls grew closer.

Tiph’arah bowed her head and kept her eyes shut.

She could smell their acrid breath now, panting, just two steps from her.

She gently pressed her foot against the door. It is locked, now what?

Rancid, hot breath came at her from all sides. The wolves had her cornered.

What are they waiting for? Tiph’arah pressed her hands into her thighs and forced herself to be absolutely still. She felt calm heat flow through her body. Never make the first move when you are outnumbered.

“Tiph’arah!” Methuselah yelled, in the distance.

Enoch and Delmar followed close behind Methuselah. “I am concerned about Tiph’arah going off alone,” Enoch said.

“This area is well protected. I have Guardians posted throughout the Seti of Seth. You have nothing to worry about.” Onami hovered just above Methuselah’s head. “Now that you are in the service of the Beloved, you must adjust your thinking. Our mission is to deliver the garment to Methuselah, not interfere with the outcomes of any human’s choices.”

“Well said,” Delmar added, “For once I agree with Captain Onami. Let’s just trail Methuselah until we catch him alone, then deliver the tunic and be off.”

“I suppose you are right.” Enoch slowed down a bit. “I don’t know why Tiph’arah has the garment anyway. I was sure Mother Eve would give it to Dinah.”

“Tiph’arah!” Methuselah shouted again, running faster up the ascent.

His call startled the wolves.

There Tiph’arah stood, in the middle of the clearing, completely alone except for four snarling wolves. Not one Guardian was in sight.

Onami assessed the situation and reached for his bow immediately.

Delmar grabbed his arm, with surprising strength, and stopped him before he could release one arrow. “Do you have orders to interfere?”

Onami lowered his bow reluctantly.

Just then Tiph’arah jerked her head up to see the alpha wolf in front of her lunge for her throat.

Tiph’arah arched backwards so far, her head almost touched the ground, crossed her arms over her throat and simultaneously slashed the two wolves on her left and right with her daggers. The lead wolf flew over her head and crashed into the door, stunned.

Tiph’arah dropped to the ground and spun around, grabbing the spear mounted over the door frame and thrust the third wolf through its chest. It landed in a heap next to her.

The dazed wolf stood back up and growled.

Tiph’arah had no weapon. The daggers and spears were still inside the wounded animals.

The alpha wolf salivated and charged.

Tiph’arah kneeled and grabbed the spear with the heavy beast still attached and threw him into the charging wolf. Both creatures crashed into the door with such force, it swung open. Then Tiph’arah ran and jerked the spear out of the wolf and thrust it back through both creatures this time, pinning them to the ground.

Tiph’arah took a couple of steps backwards. Her heart was still pounding as she panted from exertion.

“Tiph’arah!” Methuselah said, running toward her. He stopped in his tracks and gaped at the scene. Four huge dead wolves were scattered about the area. Debris from the door was everywhere, while the normally tidy room it led to was in disarray. “What happened here? Are you okay?”

“I hate wolves,” Tiph’arah said, brushing the dust off the tunic.

“And that’s why Tiph’arah has the garment,” Delmar said and Onami in unison.

“Oh,” Enoch said.