Valiant: The Echoes of Thunder…The Starchild and Rome…

***Note from Valiant: This is one of my favorite posts, because it says so much! It is from April 7, 2016, but is very appropriate ‘these’ days! Hope you enjoy it!

*SONG* I Want Your World To Turn by Heart
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QdeG7atzuBI

The Knocking at the door…knock knock…
The Ticking of the clock…tick tock…
A time for things…
Then the Bell Tolled…The bell tolls…
The time before, of things that were…
And to come…
The Echoes of Thunder…The coming storm…
The sounds of thunder…
The wind, the rain…The thunder…The AIR…
I am of the AIR…
And I bring…Lightning…

No time for tame words…9 sisters gathered
To solve a puzzle…Guided by the tall,
Mysterious Riddler Varence of Apollo…
His pearly eyes that see and saw the past
And present for a future to behold by the Chosen…
5 to rise and serve the lives to save…
Now directed by the elected Rana…
Thundercat…Shaman woman of the Lion Men…

“Say it,” Rana says, “Write it this way…
For them to read it, say it out loud…
However they wish to learn it…The world has
Grown indifferent…Forgotten things that
Should not have been forgotten…or perhaps lost,
Or never told…over campfires…story fires…
Memories of how the world Earth became
What it was, and is…
So many stories to tell…Each one of its own
Importance…and timing…
Now its time to remember.” Rana stood tall
And ferocious beneath a golden light. “Make
Them feel it…And tell them the story…
Of the starchild in Rome…”

Apart from our lives…a lost time…
Generations after the first star pilgrims came…
There was an age that grew beyond sticks and
Stones…and fire pits…and caves…When
Civilization rose by mortar and mans’ hands…
When nature, its beasts were tamed to serve man…
The horse the steed…Farm animals to provide
Less reason to hunt…And the primal heart
Of Earth’s people learned how to shape
Their lives and harness others to build things…

The primal heart…The experiment born by
Dark secrets…was set out to be molded like clay…
By the overseers…cities had already risen in
The fertile crescent…In Egypt, Greece…
Then furthered by the serpent’s grasp…
The Dark Ones reach to begin their
Shadowy cabal by an empire…in Rome…

The wayward tribes of variety were scattered
Across a new Earth…Each yielding its own
Genetic treasures…China…Africa…The Americas…
Europe…Broadened then in the Emerald Islands
Where Celts were born…And Starseed were
Born from a magical visit, and magical union
Between a new breed of human and an ancient
One visited from the stars…

So here it was…An old soul of England…
Before, at the dawn of castles…
There was a village…one that had sprung
By legacy left by fair elven spirits that
Visited Celtic woods…From a child that grew
Into a man…To have children…And their
Children to have children…
Average in size, a family tribe-village…
As they all were…But this village was blessed…
Their barbaric ways conquered by their
Growing humanity…They were a kinder people…
Too kind…But still they held their own…

The small village of barely one dozen huts
Was led by gentler Elders than most lands knew…
In particular, an old woman, grandmother
To them all…named Elspa…The shaman and
Mid-wife known throughout the region…She was
The wisest…The healer who knew well all the
Herbs to heal…And all the stories to tell to teach
Them virtue, manners and conscience…As well
As the ways of her own starchild gifts…The
Ways of vision…of psychic senses…and
Dreams that few understood…
Which is why they looked to her for guidance
With respect…
Elspa knew…She heard the voices of the woods…
And heard his voice…The mysterious tall, pale
Stranger who visited her dreams with riddles…
“They’re coming, Elspa…” He only and always said,
Warned… “They’re coming…”

The words haunted her by day and night…
“They’re coming Elspa…They’re coming…”
So when she awoke THAT morning…she knew
What she had to do…
She emerged from her hut, alone…
Her husband had been killed years ago in
Battle with a nearby clan…which at last
Brought peace…She studied her people…how
They went about their daily chores fervently…
And still she sensed their time was at its end…
Because they were coming…

“Grandmother is awake!” young Briar shouted,
As the young amber haired girl ran up to
Her to squeeze her tight. If only she could express
The urgency…of the warnings…
She smiled less each day and worried more.
“I will be with you shortly for morning meal.”
She told them as everyone greeted her
With generous smiles. Then she walked
With cane to Grifton, her silvery haired
Son who stood as chief among them…

“I need to speak with you.” Elspa begged him.

Grifton smiled playfully, tossed back his
Head with a laugh when he saw the
Worried look on her face. “Of course, what is it?”
He asked as they stood quietly together
Watching the others… “More tales of trouble?
More dreams of doom to come?”

“You need to listen to me.” She pleaded with him.

He could only laugh. “For years, you and the others
Have talked about your visions…Secrets of
The past…Gods from the stars to guide us…
The Fair Folk of the Wood…which have
Disappeared…and finally…Now, last for years…
Talk of fearsome invaders coming…of a dark
Age to come casting shadow across the world.”
He only smiled and laughed carelessly…
“I love you, Mother,” Grifton told her, “But
You must see…You are worrying too much…
Nothing is going to happen…Stop talking
Fearful things…Enjoy your older years…
Stop questing for visions…”

“Please listen to me…” She begged, her
Eyes full of terror.

He held her hands warmly, “Mother stop
This. Stop worrying. This darkness you
Keep preaching…There’s no need for it…
There are no monsters…nothing in the
Shadows…no invaders coming.”

She saw at last it was a pointless discussion…
He was their leader…And it was true…In talks
And dreams and stories over nightly campfires
For years they talked about it…what was
Coming…FOR YEARS…Nothing had happened yet…
Proof had to come to what they could see for
Real…A mystic’s dream could only reach so far…
People wanted proof…Wouldn’t they always?
Yet she knew what was coming…
The voice of the visitor to her dreams was
Clear this time… “I understand.” She
Surrendered…patted her son’s hands…Then
Walked away…watching the others…

The children played…Children that with each
New generation were changing…The color of their
Eyes…like the sky so blue…The color of their
Hair…The reds, the golds, the ambers…In the
Old days they never saw these colors before…
Where did it come from? They began to resemble
The stories of the Fair Elf Folk, the wood
Spirits that used to seduce young hunters…
Something was changing the people…
In villages of the Scots to the north and
Isles of Eire to the west more and more
Children were born with that strange red hair…
She knew it meant something…but her mind
Could not grasp science yet…

Her heart was breaking from that ache…
That haunting sense…And in the sounds of
Echoing thunder…she felt it worse each time…
The world would change…
To what end? There was no certainty in the
Future…Only a shadow that stretched
And darkened all things…

She clung to hope…studied the people, her
Eyes finally falling on the sweet young fair
Isola…The kindest of them all…So pretty
She was with her long curly golden hair…
And blue eyes…She always smiled…always
Aided anyone in need…Even though she was
Near 6 months with child growing inside her…
No doubt carrying another beautiful baby,
A child to her handsome young hunter
Liam…

Liam…Isola…She fixated upon them…Ideas
Filling her head…The race of time, and desperation.
She went to Isola and asked for her attention.
“My dear, Isola…Would you do something
For me? Its very important.”

“Of course, grandmother, anything.” Isola answered.

“I need you and Liam to gather me fresh herbs
For my medicines and recipes,” Elspa told her
Urgently, “From the valleys north, along
The hills and glens near the Scots…It’s a
Journey for you I know…But only you have
Eyes for this…Only you can do this for
Me…Ask Liam to take you…As soon
As possible…Please?”

Isola held her pregnant belly with concern.

“You are fine,” grandmother Elspa assured her,
“This brief hunt for herbs along the hills
Will do you good. And you and Liam will have
Some time alone…” She looked over the
Village, the playing children…The peace in the air…
Stabbing at the fear inside her…She fought the tears
Welling up.

Isola looked deeply into her grandmother. “What is it?
Why do you look so upset?”

“It’s nothing.” Her grandmother simply
Patted her hand then led her to a small stone
Hut…Then began giving her grand daughter
The things she would need, pouches, leather
Wraps to hold things…and various precious
Things she had…Mystical items such as talismans,
Charms for good luck and protection…things
She held dear…Then she gave her, her very
Best fur shawl coat and bag…

“Grandmother, why are you giving me all your best
Things?” Isola asked. “This rabbit coat is your
Favorite…”

“It’s getting colder,” grandmother said humbly. “I
Won’t need them…” She saw Isola begin to form
Questions and held out her hand to quiet her. “Take
Them…Please…I want to tell you something…And
Remember it…You know we’re different…I have
Told you the stories since you were very small.
Everyone…all of us have gifts…Yours is special…
You’re so young, you have time to grow…get
To know it…LISTEN…Listen to things…Pay
Attention to things…Most like to talk…They push
To be heard…You…I…We use our senses wisely…
Appreciate the silence…and the sounds…Listen…
Pay attention to your dreams the way I’ve told you.
Listen…The voice…The voices…You know what
I mean.” Elspa said, her eyes wide, glassy and
Magical… “Ignore those who shake your instincts…
Let them talk…Those that question too much
Never listen…never learn…Just like the ones
Who complain too much…Listen…You smile…
You keep smiling the way you do…Keep growing
This way…I am so proud of you.”

“You’re acting like I’m going away forever…” Isola
Laughed, confused.

Her grandmother led her outside…and called for
Liam…who, she knew was already readying himself
For a hunting trip for game along the trail she
Mentioned…She told him kindly, but firmly to
Take Isola with him…He protested briefly, then
Gave in…The trip was a welcome idea for them to
Be alone…Then Elspa was bidding them farewell…
Kissing them goodbye…And she cried as she watched
The young couple walk away…for the last time…
Then she began going around the village…Talking
To everyone…trying to sense things…to find
Excuses to make them listen…to make them
Scatter…Few listened…They were too pre-occupied
With their games, chores or gossip…Then she
Sat by the fire pit in the center of the village
Huts…watched children play…then prayed…
That awful nagging mysterious…of HIM…inside
Her head… “They’re coming Elspa…They’re coming.”

The young couple still in their teens, Liam and
Isola, followed the worn-out weeded trails through
Woods and slopes…across rocky streams…
Through high grass valley meadows to reach the
Place grandmother desired…A fair day’s hike away…
They built a campfire that night and settled in
Beneath a shelter of slanted brush and leafy cover
For a modest romantic evening…They talked
Very shyly of how nice it was to be alone together;
They were such a sweet young couple…

Both remarked how strange grandmother had been
Acting… “More than usual,” Liam remarked.
“She tells such great stories at night though.”
Everyone loved grandmother’s stories…from the
Old days when tribes and clans fought
Constantly…before that strange star fell…
Before…A time when the land was full of
Stories of the forest spirits…The Fair Folk…
Of elves…and strange white beasts in the
Woods with one horn…

“Something is different.” Isola said shaking
Her head, her eyes aglow, mesmerized by the
Flames of the campfire… “Something feels
Different.”

By break of days they found themselves woken
By a calamity in the woods…The voices of a band
Of young men…hunters from the north…Very
Close to crossing their path…
“Scots!” Liam whispered hard…But before they
Could gather their things to slip quietly into the
Woods for cover, the group of hunters were upon
Them…Ten young men…All bold older teens
That talked big but stood small, adults of
The era…brats to our modern world…They
Came upon Isola and Liam with spears, knives
And staffs…talking loud with old world accents
Like big men… “Name your clan,” they said
By a leader whose bearded face spoke with the
Voice of a boy… “We are the Picts…And you are?”

“Grifton’s tribe of the south,” Liam quietly
Answered…trying to stand strong and brave to them…
As the boys all immediately admired the fair
Isola…

“The Picts?” Isola asked…thinking fast. “My
Grandmother spoke of you…of Macduff.
Her sister became his wife, Kimry?”

The leader thought for a moment. “The mid-wife, Elspa,
Is your grandmother? The healer from the south?”

“Yes.” Isola said.

“Ah.” The Pict leader said resting his spear, and
Commanding his group to follow his calmer stance. “I
Know of her…” Respect came quick then. “I am
Moxt. We’ll give you no trouble then…Kimry
Is kin, my uncle’s wife…We’re fair to you, no fights.
What are you doing here?”

“Just gathering herbs for Elspa.” Liam told them.

“Will you share what you find?” Moxt asked.
“Our healer recently died…Things are uncertain
Right now…Our clans gather wide…The last
Moon saw more invaders come from the east…
Villages are falling…Danger is in the air, in the
Woods…You should be careful…not to stay alone…
The invaders coming are unlike any seen
Or fought before.”

“Invaders?” Liam questioned fast… “The last moon?
We heard or saw nothing?”

“Why to the north?” Isola asked, confused.

Moxt hesitated, but trusted his instincts and
Considered them friends… “They came by boats…
Tall and wide…with sails…clothed in metal,
With hoods of metal also…some
Riding beasts…They have foreign tongues, we
Don’t know them…But a prisoner was taken
And called himself, his people…Roman.”

“Roman?” Liam asked. “By boat? That
Would make them from far…?”

“Grandmother.” Isola gasped. Her
Mind spun fast…The trip…her request
For herbs…it was so late in the year for
Finding them…Her grandmother’s gifts…her
Behavior…the way she fussed over her, dressed
Her…she touched her rabbit coats. “Romans…
She knew they were coming then…She saw it.”

“Your grandmother is a shaman?” Moxt
Asked intrigued; his hunters less so.

“She asked us to come here,” Isola explained,
“For her herbs…she was urgent…sad.”

Liam looked to Isola puzzled, “But we heard nothing
Of invaders…It has been very quiet…”

“We have not seen other villages in months,”
Isola told him… “Anything could have come…
By chance we missed it yet.”

“Not for long.” Moxt shook his head and
Laughed… “These Romans come fast and
Hard…intent on standing on our land.”

“We must go back.” Isola held Liam’s arm.
She had this awful feeling. “We left so fast,
So suddenly fast…by her request…”

“My men and I will come with you,” Moxt
Told them, “I would like to see your land…
We’re scouring for signs of Romans…This
Could tell us something…”

And so they banded together…Liam and Isola
Led Moxt and his hunters down the trails to
Their land…Where by near end of day they
Found what they feared most…
Pillars of smoke from a distance said it first…
The village…Their village…was in black ashes…
Everything was torn apart…nothing was
Untouched…

But the worst was the gruesome scene of bodies…
No tribes fought like this before…
The eldest all lay dead…
Some beheaded or stripped of limbs…as were all
The smallest children…it was a blood bath…
A slaughter of innocents, the weak…

Horrified, they found grandmother Elspa
Gored by spear through her chest…
Her eyes still open wide in pain and fear…
It was awful, wordless…
But there were no bodies of young people
Anywhere? Why? They were taken?
That made no sense…

Isola walked teary-eyed through the village…
She couldn’t bring herself to touch anything,
She felt as if she were a shattered spirit
Floating through the grisly scene…
Then her mind surrendered to senses,
By the overwhelming emotions that struck…

Visions filled her head…
She saw them…The invader Romans…
Dressed in metal, chest, back and hoods…
Crowned with red flares…Warriors like none
They knew with polished flashy weapons…
They came upon the village not long after
She and Liam left…
The fight was hard and fast…The killing wide,
And measureless…They never saw it coming!
But Elspa did…Her grandmother knew!
And no one listened…

They spoke a strange language…loud, fierce…
Her people, family, families ran…
Only to be caught quick…forced to kneel…
They were rated of worth…
The old and young sentenced to immediate death…
Those of youthful vigor, prime of age
Chosen for pleasure as slaves, the women, girls…
Beaten, raped, stripped…and some of the
Young boys too…Humiliation…Torture…
The red hair, the blue eyes…Gold hair…
The prize…To be delivered to their homeland
As trophy slaves…for any purpose of desire…
As screams and cries of the haunting scene
Filled her head…Isola turned…
Then saw it…

The beast, animal…that they rode…
Standing there…on four legs…plainly…
Out in the open, alone between two huts…
Her eyes apart from mind sensed the animal…
Of flaxen mane…a nutty rich brown shiny body…
A powerful muscled animal…
Her eyes to its, his eyes…Its body quivered
As it neighed…left behind…Abandoned?
No…it fought its way…away from its tamers…
The horse that found her…
Watched her, sensed her…A sensitive
Animal…And she went to it, and stroked
The creamy blaze of its face…
A bridge made from mind to mind…
Britain had unknowingly found its first horse.

Liam and Moxt approached her and the animal…
“Be careful!” Liam warned his young pregnant
Beloved. “You don’t know what this can do!”

“I’ve seen these beasts before,” Moxt told them, “The
Romans ride upon them…We’ve caught a few,
Slain them for victory feasts…They’re tasty.”

Isola grimaced at Moxt’s words, as she stroked
The animal, “Men think with their stomachs.
He’s beautiful.”

“You don’t even know what it is.” Liam shook his head.

“It’s a horse.” She said without thinking…
Her senses told her everything…

“A what?” Liam asked.

“A horse.” Isola said…her eyes wide and large,
Like the animal’s eyes…Her awe for the horse
Overtaking the moment…Magic…Into his mind…
The way it thought, felt…breathed…The
Way it stood, muscles flexed…He was born to
Move…driven by a powerful instinct…its mind
Worked with pictures, forged by feelings…of
Survival…to eat, drink, move…Tied to the
Land by legs that gave it strength and
Reason to dance…and jump…and run.
She never felt such clarity before…
The voice…The spirit of animals spoke to her…
Few understood this…
The birds that fly…adrift, gliding the air
With wings to soar…eyes to see beyond all things…
Those of predators…to strike, hunt those
On ground or sky…Earth…Air…
The rabbit on the ground…Innocence that hides,
Survival…the flight to run…
Animals…The furry souls, feathered souls
Of all kinds…few appreciated them beyond food
Or beasts of burden…
It never struck her so hard before…
Grandmother had often cared for orphaned animals…
The respect, love of nature…a wisdom taught
Of virtue and medicine…Shamans learned this way…
But for Isola this was…The first personal moment
In her life…
Despite and through the slaughter of her village…
This encounter, meeting with this…horse…
Stirred something within her…
Grandmother’s stories and wisdom filled her head…
The woman within her rose…
And the horse spoke to her…
A tale of its life…an animal slave…its spirit
Bred, bought, stolen…beaten, spirit tamed, whipped,
Tithed and chained to be used as a mount
For brutes for its strength…or to haul or pull
Loads…There was no allowance…
It was nature’s first eternal slave to man…
And somehow…by her own ravaged loss she
Bore of her people…she made a bound tie
To the horse’s mind…In a whisper, a promise
Of respect and admiration…
The slave animal became her friend…An echo
Through time…

The magic moment then was broken…war cries…
From the forest line nearby…The metal clothed
Roman men reappeared, they by chance
Re-tracked to the village to find their commander’s
Horse…

Time ran fast…The Pict hunters cried war
In return, Liam shouted for her to run…
But Isola was held still by the horse…and
Somehow he told her what to do, and she
Raised her foot to the stirrup…and raised herself
Upon his back…The horse danced, she took
The reigns…The Romans yelled their
Language of war and rage…pointing with
Swords and spears to her, and the horse…
They charged…And her horse launched
Into a flightful run…unlike Isola ever
Knew…
Liam panting in panic raced after her to
Follow as the Pict hunters fought the Romans…
More and more of the invaders emerged
From the woods…They were outnumbered…

Isola’s horse raced for the hills, finding
Trails by feet only animals knew to find…
Liam followed with all his speed…but could
Not catch her…Then Moxt followed and a
Few of his men…They knew their odds favored
Retreat then…

A team of more Romans on horseback…
Emerged from the woods to follow, chase…
They wanted their commander’s horse bad…
A foolish price of pride…
The odds were desperate, ridiculous…

Then moment found…a mystical intervention…
The echoes of thunder…
Then as if some invisible line had been drawn
In the sand by higher hand,
The band of Roman horse soldiers halted in a row…
They fought their riders, feet stomping the Earth…
Eyes wide with life, protest…
Ears twitching to the voice only they heard…
Some ethereal siren’s song that commanded
Nature…perhaps from some Watcher’s past…
Then they threw their riders with bucking fury
That scattered the Roman attack into chaos…
So much so they forgot to pursue Isola, Liam
And the Picts…

Isola’s mount would deliver her, Liam and
Moxt and his men to safety to the northern
Territories…Where they would eventually
Find a new home…build an army that
Would halt further Roman invasions…

More horses liberated from their bringers would
Also find a future home…in this land…
Still the tale remains…that it
Was a young pregnant Isola who rode the first
Horse there…Unless of course other points
Were given here…it depends entirely how you
Read it…eyes and ears to see what they will…

Now…then…The story departs to far different
Eyes…
On the ship that sees all things of time…

There they watched…by and for duty…
Their jobs…Camlo, still in his pale blue
Uniform…studying the quiet fauna…

Ceres, the golden blond beautiful princess woman
Watcher of Earth…wearing her red dress…
Sat watching the animals, in her seat at
The console politely…with quiet smiles of
Dignity…

Apollo, the tall creamy haired chiseled man
Still in his drapery clothes, sat in the
Captain’s chair…Watching the mortals’ dramas
Of Earth…Multitasking of course…so
Many things were going on upon the Earth…
He laughed without a smile, “Ceres…Horses?
Upon the Emerald Islands…Do the words
Mean anything to you?”

“Sensitively brilliant animals.” She answered slyly
Without facing him.

“I thought we were ordered…” Apollo also slyly
Said… “To not interfere but only…WATCH…”

“I was there, I heard his orders.” Ceres
Answered…without the slightest care…

“The girl…a baby survived,” Apollo responded,
“From a fitful line of horses that held
Soldiers to follow.”

“How interesting.” Ceres said as she watched the whales
Passing in the seas…near a chain of islands…
Somewhere special. “Perhaps animals make
A difference after all…Perhaps studying
Them is more significant somehow.” She smiled.

“Are you making a point to me or someone
Else?” Apollo asked.

“Who could possibly be listening to our
Conversation?” Ceres asked. “Are you taking
Notes? Would you repeat it to someone
Sometime? Who would care?”

Apollo paused to laugh, roll his eyes…
To the air…As if there was or would be
Some eyes or ears out there… “Why would I
Mention such a thing? History none should
Know? To suggest…to pay attention to listen
More…To all those little things that you
Pass by…?”

“As if signs are there for who?” Ceres
Laughed…then faced him, smiling. “You
Poise yourself as if to tell some story…
Why? When, what for? For who?”

“I would tell a friend if I had to” He
Said nicely.

“If you had one.” She said playfully. “Break
Open a prize of victory if they catch
That one.”

“Are you saying I have no friends?”

She stood then strolled to say it beside him.
“I’m saying…That you shouldn’t have to
Share such an obvious thing with a friend…
Unless it had a gentle meaning…Otherwise…
I would see it as…a warning…”

“Such interesting words there.” Apollo
Speculated…before his eyes fell back to
Observing the images on his screen…His
Expression sank…slowly…almost painfully.

“That is a look I have never seen.” She
Said to him.

“Why?” He asked slowly.

“Your look…it aches…” She said.

“This…” Apollo said, nodding once to the screen…
“Upon this world…The way civilizations grow…
Or rather, re-grow…Evolve? Mutate?
Mutilate?” He laughed painfully.

“What is it?” She asked. “Say it.”

“I do not like this…” Apollo answered, his eyes
Wide… “I have never heard of this sort of…
Progress before.”

“Think to what it belongs.” Ceres said.

“Should that matter?” Apollo asked… “No
Sense can be given for it…no matter who
Claims the rites of passage…or their
Hand in the shaping.”

Ceres sighed as she slowly returned to her seat.
“Watchers have no opinion in those, remember?”

“Something has to happen…sometime.” He
Said studying the screen.

“Pray for revelations.” Ceres told him, resuming her
Duties as well… “Write a book…whisper in someone’s
Ear…Tell them a tale they won’t believe…more
Words?”

“Revelations…” He laughed…his gaze falling intensely
Upon the history unfolding…The rising of an
Empire on a primitive world…one that shadowed
One larger…vast, master empire in the stars…
“The echoes…” He moaned…his mind regretfully
Taking in the perils, the turbulence taking shape on
The lost guardian world…Inside, he confessed, it
Revolted him…

“Did you say something?” She asked as she
Turned to the look of agony silently overtaking
His face. “That look…”

“Please…” He quietly said to her, so humbly it
Frightened her…He raised his eyes to hers then, “Would you…
Might I ask just one thing of you?”

“Of course.”

“Your sister,” he thought carefully as he spoke,
“The one that works in the capital…concerning
Matters of the council, the outer planets?”

“Chanta?” Ceres asked.

“Yes…Chanta…” He nodded… “Could you grant me
A private conference with her? Please?”

His politeness struck her senses nearly speechless.
He never made requests…He was never so…humble.
“Of course.” She began pressing buttons
At her panel. “Go to the meeting room…
Wait for the call…” She simply nodded.

“Thank you.” He quietly replied then made
His departure…left the main bridge…followed
A brightly lit shiny pearly hallway to a
Small room at the very end…used for private
Communications…He entered, then sat at
A large desk-type counter that faced
A blank wall with only one flat screen object lighting
The dark room…Then waited…

It wasn’t long before a static like glow filled
The window-like screen…The image then cleared
To form the view on the other side…back
Home…Another private room where a very
Beautiful flawlessly looking dark red haired
Woman sat in a pale blue uniform waiting
For him. “Apollo?”

“Yes, thank you.” He greeted her kindly.

“My sister says you wish to speak with me?”
Chanta asked. “Concerning what?”

“You manage contact with the outside?” He
Asked her, “With the outside council?”

“I do.” She answered carefully.

“I have something to ask you.” Apollo said,
His manner very serious. “I need you to
Contact the Mother World…To ask
Them to send a ship to observe some recent
Behavior on Earth.”

Chanta’s crystal-like blue eyes
Seemed to roll then blink in wild thought. “Such
Requests are never made.”

“I must ask this.” He said. “I must ask now.”

Chanta was a woman of high standing…brilliant,
Virtuous…spiritual…but always politically correct;
She dared to break no rules… “Why would I do
This? Watchers are forbidden to interfere…”

“Please.” Apollo humbly said… “There are
Things beginning on this world I do not like.”
He saw her readied response and held out his
Hand to beg for her to listen. “All worlds are
Molded differently I know…But this…”

“You refer to Rome?” Chanta asked,
Carefully forming her words.

“You are aware?” He was surprised, a little.

“Yes, of course.” She said, confessed, quickly.

A moment of silence as he fought his
Insides to find reasons, the mystery…
Suddenly a bigger picture filled his head…
Of course they know…They had to.
“You know?” He squinted.

“Of course we know.” Chanta answered calmly.
“We are aware of everything going on…on the
Slave worlds.”

“You say that carefully.” Apollo responded, studying
Her face. “But not all worlds?”

“No, not all worlds.” She said…extremely cautious
With every word.

Apollo thought fast, quietly…nearly scowling as his
Deep voice formed the words, “When I came
To my post…When the trade routes were
Flourishing…When Atlantis was still a new
City…and the colonies were spreading…You
Knew the empire would annex this quadrant
Of space…how?”

“They were following the gold…” Chanta
Answered. “Their greed always follows the
Resources.”

“But,” he said, “Then…What happened here…
The invasion…They stripped the planet…
The experiments…They encouraged the evolution
Of a new race…”

“Yes, we know,” Chanta simply answered, “The
Meta-humans…”

“They ceased to become humans when the
DNA of so many species were entwined into theirs.”
He said.

“Their humanity was resumed when you had the
Elvar of the Danu interfere in their evolution.”
Chanta corrected.

He cleared his throat. “I did not tell them
To do anything…”

“Do not think I am a fool,” she told him
Fast and hard, “Or that any of us are
Unaware of what YOU did, Apollo.”

“I remained within all the—“

“You walk a fine line with rules,” Chanta said.
“Everyone is aware…The only reason you have
Not been reprimanded, withdrawn from your
Position and imprisoned with Xander…is the
Potential of the situation.”

“Someone…” He said hard, biting down with his teeth,
“had to do…something…The Empire consumes
This universe…And when it has it all there
Will be a war of universes…and you know
What will happen.”

“We are all aware of how much time we
Have left.” Chanta snapped. “The fact
Remains there is a chance.”

“Chance for what?” Apollo snapped. “This
Civilization, this Shadow Empire of Rome that
Likens into the structure of the Reptilians
Homeworld…The slavery…The carnal
Indulgences…The blood games…Even
The way they worship…”

“As with so many other worlds.” She simply,
Calmly said.

“How can you say this with such simple
Breath?” Apollo asked. His manner, the
Nature of the boy that became the man became
Bold… “What are we watching for? Waiting
For?”

“We are apart from time,” Chanta said
Slowly, trying to express that she did care but
Was also held by position, “We are fortunate
To exist where others can not…To survive…
To Exist? We are but figments…
Dreams to the outside…They will never
Comprehend this…And that is our blessing.
Let them not understand…So we can work…
Suggest with inspiration…through dreams…
Riddle some whispered words on the wind…
Mysterious creativity through art…answers
By melody of song and lyrics…”

He frowned, he knew the sacraments…
“What are we waiting for?”

“I realize you are frustrated.” Chanta said
Strong but with sympathy, “But you must, we
All must play our parts.”

“Tell me!” He nearly shouted.

“For the chance,” Chanta answered slowly,
“In all of us we quest for those answers
From where we come…The source…our
Creation…There is far more than physical
World…The ethereal, the supernatural dimension
Of life we ride alongside…gives us glimpses, clues…
To what is beyond our physical laws…
The most advanced civilizations study this…”

“Of course.” Apollo rolled his eyes. “All
Fools know the common sense…So?”

“We obey and respect spiritual laws…
The natural order of things.” Chanta
Answered. “The Empire does not. They
Attempt to bridge the two by their
Experiments…The meta-human…That
Can create a bridge to Heaven…”

“You speak of witchcraft and spirit
Mediums?” He asked.

“No,” she snapped. “Witchcraft is of sciences
Of the mind…Spirit mediums break the spirit
Laws…I am not talking about conversations.
I am talking about an actual physical
Bridge…in human form…”

“A door?” He asked.

“Or window, yes.” She nodded. “Every
Few thousand years…The Heavens offer
Glimpses to us…meanings by messages of
Our creation through acts of divine
Intervention…IF…they can create a meta-
Human that can be a bridge…They
Can talk to Heaven…But they also intend
To invade it…influence it…”

“No physical being commands the Heavens!”
Apollo said.

“Of course not…Only an idiot would assume
They can control beings from the higher
Realms…Angels…Archangels…Cherubim…”

“Their arrogance assumes they can invade
And control Heaven?” He laughed. “It
Will destroy them first.”

“That’s how worlds die,” Chanta agreed,
“For when they get close to this in their
Experiments…Heaven responds by harsh
Lessons of blood, death…cataclysm.”

“So what am I to do then?” He asked.

“Wait…” She insisted… “Watch the
Evolution take place…Find the successful
Vessel…communicate with the cosmic forces
Before they do…Let us build the bridge
Before they do…”

“And then?” He asked.

“Then the war begins…” She said. “It’s not
About one world, one or Earth or any other…
It’s about ALL worlds…And saving our fate.
Now go…Watch…Wait…Watch some more…
Find the vessels of divine intervention…Then…
Once you do…We will react and plan accordingly.”
She ended the communication.

He sat in silent thought for a while
Pondering their discussion…He had the time…
The knowledge…The technology…The
Space of secrecy to hide…it was but
The waiting and watching that was
The chore…

End that part…
Now eyes and ears to this…

Rana stood bathed in the golden glow
Of the lights as her sisters, Vala and
Ceres joined her…The three…

“So that’s what you needed to hear,” Rana
Said to the notebook… “This is how it will
Be now…Like it? Excellent…Don’t like it?
Don’t read it…Retreat and scratch yourselves,
I don’t care.”

“Lesser humans find great difficulty in
Managing their behavior.” Ceres laughed.
“The wise listen…They can manage their
Ears and mouth quite well.”

“You do know this Earth well.” Rana laughed.
“Their communication devices…IF…they
Only knew how many eavesdrop on every
Little thing from the stars above…
They entertain themselves? HA! They truly
Entertain others even more.”

Vala, with her long honey colored wavy
Hair and candled-colored eyes of flame
Hummed her siren’s song… “Let me
Impart this…There will be no repeating
Lessons…The Heavens are kind to fools
No longer…which is why pain and death
Are so abrupt…

Fear the road…respect things…
These are the things to know…
The light comes…The seasons will be
Hostile…for they should be cold…
Arctic winds…make ICE…bring it…
Challenge your course from what you knew…
Make it what you need to know…
Follow your dreams…But more importantly
Know their meaning…
Quiet your noisy mouth and listen more…
The Echoes of Thunder…
The storm comes…
These are The Thunders.”

Valiant

source: http://www.rumormillnews.com/cgi-bin/forum.cgi?read=103828

 

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2 comments on “Valiant: The Echoes of Thunder…The Starchild and Rome…

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