Preview: Yesterdays Desire

Yesterday's Desire.

Prologue; Where we must go.

“ Has the Universe ever spoken to you?

…

Why do you question me? I asked you something. You answer.

…

No? Really…

You look like the type it would talk to. Have a chat with.

It talks to me. All the time.

Almost daily…almost.

…

God? No. No. The universe is reality. It's all things simultaneously. It's Earth, the moon, the solar system, the stars we see at night. The stars we see now. Mars. The galaxy. All the Galaxies. My fingers, your hair, our atoms and everything that keeps them apart. The universe is all of time, human history, space. He is everything and nothing.

He- oh sorry.

It…it.

It is everything…and nothing. Simultaneously.

…

What did it say? Well…it doesn't speak like you'd think it would. No…It speaks in feelings. Emotions.

It made me feel…it made me feel what emptiness is like. Cold and dark. You'd think emptiness felt like nothing. You'd think the two words were synonymous, but no. It felt like…like you got trapped in a well. It's cold. And dark. You're wet and crying, but you don't know why.

Melancholy.

And then it left. For a good while it left. Then it wondered itself back once it realized that I'm worth something. And ever since we left Earth it's been here, with me.

397 days.

Inside me, but also…me...it is me and I am it. 

No, I'm not reality, but reality seems to be me…The universe is in me. It speaks and sees and hears and feels- through me. It feels what I can feel and yet it's not me…

We're like a host and a parasite.

A mind and a body.

Space and time.

…

It doesn't feel empty, the universe. It feels like the anticipation to success.

To power.

It feels, when it's with me, like when we reach the colonies, everything will be okay.

Everything will be okay, again.

…

What's the difference between the universe and consciousness? Well, not a lot. They're practically the same. Except, to put it simply, the universe is everything. All of reality. Now imagine if reality vibrated…

Consciousness is that frequency. Our brains just happen to be tuned into the infinite vibration of reality.

Odd.

Odd, indeed…

…

I'm still shocked he-

…It…it doesn't talk to you. You seem worthy enough. You seem strong and intelligent and conscious enough to grasp the power. The energy. 

What does it feel like? It feels like all of my questions have been answered. All of my worries no longer have a purpose. 

I feel free. 

I feel like I know what is going to happen. I feel like the universe has finally shown itself in a shape we can understand…

It feels like life has more than one meaning now…

What was the first meaning? 

My meaning, plainly. It's obvious. My purpose, my meaning of life and my pursuit of happiness comes down to a single cohesive thing…

The happiness of others. Their freedom, safety, rights of life, their own significant pursuits. Everything a single man, woman or child could want on the face of the planet…From edge to edge of the galaxy. 

What I want for myself is to see what they can give themselves. What they can chase. What they can snatch from reality and the cosmos. 

And this second meaning…

…

It's as if reality itself has become my purpose. Not to save it from anything. Not to guide it somewhere mystical. But to show it to others. That's what the universe has shown me. That's the second meaning of life…

That's why we're going to these other Colonies. These other planets so…far from Earth. To give freedom, safety and the rights of life to more people. More space, more resources, more happiness. 

And with happiness comes consciousness. And with such a power, the universe will begin to speak to you…

It will. Trust in me. ”

Yesterday's Desire.

Chapter One; Sounds From A Distant Soul.

AMON OF JUDAH.

13,397 years later…

"Did you hear that?" Amon gurgled. “Spooky? Did you?” He asked the skeletal man beside him. The crew of lost souls and emaciated hearts didn’t bother to acknowledge him. Hands stayed folded, eyes remained locked to the splinting wood beneath their heels. Amon sighed, watching as the mudden earth beneath him swam away. Not with a raging speed, but a mediocre pace; rhythmic, like a physical lullaby. Amon found his eyes hard to keep open. Hard to focus. He sat at the edge of a rotting carriage, his legs dangling over the edge. His balance was just good enough to stay in his seat whenever they hit a bump.

What Amon had heard were little faint whispers, and he had heard them. He was not sickened with the plague, not like those crazies that often come out here. The whispers were similar to the whistling of Hainan Apes or the songs of Zolian Monkeys.  But those creatures of Gennisi didn't sing in such low tones or pitches. What Amon had heard was hardly loud enough to enter his ear nor sprout from his head. 

It didn't have enough volume or weight to it for Amon to hear it fully. Just enough to know it existed. Just enough to know he heard something different, rather than the low pitched hums of the jungle Apes. Perhaps-

The cart stopped. Amon flew with the graze of a boulder, shouldering the muddy path beneath. He sprung to his feet, looking up at the smiling recruits who were holding on to the edge of the cart's rotting floor.

He smiled with them and slipped again, making it look like an accent. "Curses", he grunted. 

Some soldiers burst into laughter, others smiled and some chuckled. But they had all forgotten why they had come here, and that was enough for Amon. Some ignored the buffoon who made a spectacle of himself and his humility. 

They were recruits on the brink of becoming true honorable soldiers. Laughing wasn't a trait of a soldier. Not these ones. 

The soldiers, half a hundred it looked like, slowly drained out of the rotten carriage and splashed down into the muddy path. They laughed at Amon as they passed, gathering in a crowd. He smiled with them and-

He couldn't get up. The path of mud the carriages rode through was like sinking sand. Or puddy. Or shit. Amon's smile faded as he sank a little deeper. Well fuck, he cursed to himself.

His gaze was forced skyward. Dark green leaves kept the blue sky out of view, permanently as unfortunate and beautiful as it was. There wasn't a season to kill off the leaves for a few months on Gennisi. The leaves were always out, shading the land beneath them, embracing the apes as they swung, sheathing the natives where they belonged. 

The trees grew as tall as skyscrapers. Billions of them. They hardly died because of the surplus of nutrients in the soil, the immense amount of rainfall the planet got and the lack of a change for seasons. On Gennisi, it was junglous. 

Constant rains that lasted days, if not weeks, months. Trees that never died. Climate that never left its spring-like state. The whole planet was a jungle, except for a few places here and there that lack the unbearable foliage. 

Amon himself was from The Prospect of the Valley, just a hundred miles north of the forsaken training grounds of the south.

He cocked his eye to the side, looking into the dense foliage of the forest floor. The earth was smeared in dark green patches of thick moss. Dense bushes with serrated leaves that sprawled out, growing to the size of a man's arm span. Vines dangled down from the lower branches of the trees. They swung in the light breeze. The trees were as thick as two men's arm spans. 

It was absolutely magnificent, Amon thought to himself, a thin smile growing from the surrounding sights. The low pitched hum of a Hainan Ape came from above, Amon craned his neck to get a view.

A black-furred beast with four long arms built of solid muscle swung overhead and disappeared into the dark jungle the next second. "Magnificent", Amon said to himself. He'd never been versed in zoology either, but such creatures couldn't be kept from a man's brain. It would be learned despite the scarcity of collected knowledge. Such things as the Hainan Ape should be shared with everyone. It should never be locked away. Never. 

The last man exited the carriage with a splat of mud beneath his thick ape hide boots. He approached, Amon heard each spalt with increasing detail as he neared. A face, abloom with muddy orange whiskers that sprouted out from his face and from the top of his head, came into his view. They were as straight as the trees that surrounded them, his whiskers were. His hair was buzz-cut, short and thin, shaven down to his scalp on his sides. His mustache was thicker than the rest of his beard, and he appeared to be smiling beneath it. He extended an old leather gloved hand. Amon gladly took it and the ginger man wrapped his other hand around his wrist and pulled him up and out of the mud. A print of him was left behind.

Amon found his balance back on his feet now, he nodded to the older fellow. "Thank you, sir."

"Soldier", his voice wasn't as overbearing as he appeared. It was commanding, but in a regal and pleasant way. "Please, I'm a soldier now." Amon grinned, pulling his boots out from the mud and back onto the forest floor, beneath the proper canopy of the trees and among the thick moss. The carriages hadn't destroyed the floor beneath the trees, so the mud wasn't so bad here.

"We haven't had our coronation yet. Soldier", he added since the gingered man asked. Amon himself was very jealous of such a beard. He hadn't been able to grow one just yet. 

The ginger man shrugged, his gloved hands finding his hips. He looked out over the crowd that was gathering on a stone plateau. 

"Stone?" Amon questioned, whipping the mud that wasn't already embedded in the fibers of his clothes off of him.

The ginger man grinned beneath his beard, a row of pale wrinkles forming across his forehead. "The ocean my friend." The man walked toward the crowd of soon-to-be soldiers, intermingling with them and slowly finding his way to the front. 

He stood proudly on the edge of the solid stone plateau, unfrightened of the possible plummet to the next plateau below. Easily three hundred feet down.

A fatal drop, Amon decided. 

The man clasped his gloved hands behind his back, his chest proudly puffed. Amon stood next to him, more in awe by his stance, by the honor this man radiated than the ocean itself. He'd never seen the ocean, not once. But he'd never seen a man like this one. So proud…and of what?

"This specific ocean is dubbed the Starling Sea", the ginger man explained, his posture absolutely perfect. Devine almost. "It’s called that because of the way it sparkles in the suns." 

Amon looked at the sea, five-hundred feet below. It seemed to extend forever. Unstoppable. Never-ending. But it was black and dull. No shine. Just a bit of white foam near the tops of randomly forming waves, as they rolled inward. Toward the rockwall that was the southern coast's end. 

"Well, during a sunny day, that is", the ginger-faced man corrected himself.  "Cold as shit too. This sea is where the storms come from. Hurricanes they call them. Strong winds, shit ton of rain as thick as a man's thumb. Hurts like hell, son."

"Sir- Soldier, I mean", Amon corrected. "What's your name?"

He held out a gloved hand, the other still behind his back. "Jesus. And you?"

"Amon, soldier", he nearly called him sir. His aged figure demanded he be called sir. They broke hands at the large obnoxious sigh from the center of the crowd. 

"Well boys", the voice began. It sounded like the man had seen the world and all of its wars, but remained unamused. "Whose jumpin' first, ay?"

KING SOLOMON iii.

"…Intriguing", spoke King Solomon, the only ears to hear were his shadows. Before him lay the mightiest library Gennisi - of the republic, continent and planet- had seen in recent years. And it was his own, sculpted of the softest and most holy wood in the land. The same wood high religious figures -Mountains- used for self-defense and combative situations. 

Goroo'Hih'Ro was the name of the wood and the tree it was shaved from. A short and rare tree found in Kardia on a single island with grand pink seas. 

Odd. Solomon had heard a whispering conversation in the back of his head. A man and a woman talking about…oh what was it? The universe, yes. They spoke of something odd and-

The thoughts of the conversation were erased from the King's mind in a mediocre flash. "Also intriguing", he told himself, running fat fingers down one lanky orange wooden shelf. It stretched twenty something feet skyward, and yet hardly two feet wide. That was also one of the many fine qualities of the Goroo'Hih'Ro tree, a burnt amber hue soaked into the library and birthed a beautiful aesthetic, matching the large hearth; the mother to his shadows. The fire was imprisoned behind black rotting bars, encased in bloody bricks. 

Solomon took a seat, a cherry red leather chair with an ornamental pelt of some rare ape served as his backrest. He ran his fingers along the soft texture of the pelt. Solomon knew little of the grand Apes inhabiting Gennisi. He had never even heard one sing before. Everyone had been gifted that experience. So many people in fact, you couldn't call it a gift to hear one sing. Rather a trademark. Solomon sighed as he sat, the chair creaked under his weight. 

The King was large, fairly oversized for a man of his specimen. Kings, royalty, and politicians weren't particularly like Solomon, in size nor stature. The King was shorter than average, but his crown made up for the loss. A good five inches of golden length. A golden crown sat on his hairy head, Thirteen gleaming gold points standing high, shining too bright in the firelight. At the head of every peak, was a different colored jewel, uncut and unpolished to show its true value. Greens, blues, reds, rainbows, violets- colorful and yet bleak jewels. Especially bleak when placed atop a gleaming golden crown. 

Solomon didn't truly care for the jewels atop his head, nor the dancing diamonds on his girthy fingers. One for every God. A raw and uncut jewel for every Peak. Ten fingers, Thirteen Gods. 

It was like wearing a five pound weight, strapped to each hand. They were quite annoying, but he had to wear them. To show allegiance to the Gods, to show his mighty authority. He didn't like that idea, but he knew of its value. He didn't want to be in charge and he needed the public to know so. Otherwise the balance of the world, particularly Maleemissioania, the grand city-state, would be swept into chaos. A world without a powerful leader was a world without one. And Solomon was anything but powerful, in truth. He was soft and plushy, in his heart and his head. But when he was out there, amongst the public eye, he stood taller than all and carried his weight as if he hadn't even noticed it. 

And that was the true way a King should present themselves. 

King Solomon watched the fire curl and dance in its various ways. Up and down. Sideways. Backward. Skyward. This fire was a simple and original one, orange and yellow. It had no significance besides the warmth it presented to the books of the grandiose library. The largest one on Gennisi. Thirteen rows, thirteen columns, thirteen floors. 

King Solomon also had the tallest library on the planet, as well as the tallest manor to go along with it. Some called it a mansion, others called it apartments suitable for one. It wasn't very wide nor spacious when you compared it to the other Kings and Queens. King Daron V, first King of the Whale, had a mansion consisting of three-hundred-and-two rooms, including bathrooms, showers,and  bedrooms. Rooms kings didn't need, or use, or knew they had.  

Solomon was a poor man when considering the others. Twenty-six Kings. Two Kings to every Heavenly House, of which there were Thirteen. One for every Peak. There were two Kings per House to prevent total corruption among themselves-

Whispers…

Solomon held his breath. He ceased movement momentarily. Everything grew calm around him, even the organic flames before him…as the voice returned…

Shshsh…God?

…No. No.

Shshs…shs…The universe is reality.

It's all things simultaneously.

…shshsss…

It's Earth, the moon, the solar system, the stars we see at night.          Shshshs                     The stars we see now.

Mars.       The galaxy…shshshshs…

…All the Galaxies.      My fingers, your hair, our atoms and everything that keeps them apart- Shshshs…      The universe is all of time, human history, space.

…He is everything and nothing.

He- oh sorry…Shshshshs…

…Shshshshshshsh.

It…it.

Shshshshshshshshshshshs-

the whispers of some distant past snapped out of his head in the same way they had before. And it seemed to float off to somewhere else. Somewhere distant. Distant in the universe. Long past all that was and would be. Past everything. King Solomon was left alone, with his thoughts and the fire in the largest library on the planet. “…What the fuck is Earth?" 

Yesterday's Desire.

Chapter Two; Laughs of Mad Men.

AMON OF JUDAH.

…Laughter trickled in. 

"I'm serious", the same murderous man said. Amon assumed he was the leader of this small gang of recruits. What were they called? A platoon. The fat man looked around the crowd, his face stern. Battle-worn and faded from the disasters of war. 

The general met the eyes of Amon. His face twisted like the warped branches of a Great Lung Tree. The general approached with a stride that made it look as if he were floating. 

Amon took a step back as the crowd grew silent and the general got close. A foot from Amon, he stared into his eyes. A long time he did that. Either he saw his reflection and admired them, or he saw the devil…And swore he looked a little too similar to himself. 

Jesus was still standing proud, honorable, hands behind his back. His large ginger beard swayed in the wind. The ocean breeze was the only sound they could hear. Even the jungle’s Apes froze.

"…A blind eye", the general said slowly. "And a yellow one…"

Amon nodded, his timid stance sent tingling pain up his back and through his gust. Or was that the anxiety?

"Cursed", the general said lowly, insipidly, but in the silence of the jungle…they all heard his word. They stared each other down for a while longer, then the general turned his back on the recruit. "If you survive I'll make sure you're killed." And the general kicked Amon square in the chest. 

…And he flew. He had always wanted to fly.

KING SOLOMON lll.

"Earth?" Solomon's Landlord, Levi, questioned, mustache wrinkling.

Solomon sauntered down the rows of bookshelves, looking for one that had the potential to make sense of the words he had heard in his head.  The bookshelves were a soft wooden orange, chaotic torch light danced in the dark of the library. The twos shadows waved and spun as the fire crackled and burned.

Solomon found a book, plucked it off the shelf and flipped through it quickly. Then he added it to the stack of books Levi already held. "What even is that? Some kind of Kardian sex position?"

Solomon smiled as he watched the books swim past his eyes. The row ended and they moved onto the next. "Surely some kind of place. Here, I wrote down the passage exactly. Even the lower frequency whispers." Solomon handed Levi a piece of folded paper.  

The Landlord found a shelf at the beginning of the particular bookshelf where he set down the stack of apeskin books with a thump. Solomon had handed Levi, all of the books he found worthy of the coming research. Any possible piece of information that could enlighten the King on this message he received from the God's. Hell, maybe even this Earth and Mars. Anything gave Solomon some amount of reinsurance. He took the paper, unfolded it and read. 

"Earth, Mars…what in the fuck is this?" Levi flapped the paper in-between his pointer and middle finger. 

Solomon watched the books, looking for something important. "Something from the past." Solomon paused as The Landlord prepared to ask another question. "It's a curious thing too, Levi. I could feel that the words were coming from many years ago. Many."

"And if you'd have to guess how old this message was…?"

"…To me, it felt like thousands of years. And if the holy numbers have any significance, I'd say specifically thirteen-thousand years ago…That date feels right. I felt the time it was spoken in my head…I felt the date."

"A grand for each God", Levi nodded, playing with the paper in his fingers. "…But if it was that old then", Levi began to ponder. "It would be pushed back to the beginning of Gennisi. The first era even."

"Well", King Solomon redirected his gaze to Levi. The Landlord had a long ape-skin leather coat on, gray of complexion. A large black arrowhead insignia sat over his heart. A mark of the House of the Crow. "We don't have any solid evidence of any history previous to the Third Era. It was all lost in those Wars. Most things were."

"But there are rumors of those stones down in the Prospect of the Port", Levi said. "They are said to be thirteen-thousand years old. The oldest thing we've ever found on Gennisi. And so the theory goes, that's when the empire started."

"Yes yes. But we have no proof that those stones are specifically that old", King Solomon said. "All we have to go on is the rate of erosion and the depth at which it was buried. But that could have easily been accidental. Or even placed there on purpose."

"Right. How pesky the ancients were, Everest", Levi found himself agreeing with King Solomon's neutrality. The man had always had that ability to overcome skepticism and belief and sit right in the middle. No one had that particular skill. Not these days. Especially men of the Gods. "So why do you think this message was sent to you?"

King Solomon paused to think. "Oh…yes yes, Levi. Perhaps it was sent to me."

"What was the other option?" 

"I picked up on the frequency. A thing of accidents. Coincidence." 

"White Everest", Levi grew a grin. "With all due respect, you should expect things to be purposeful in this day and age."

"The Gods hardly talk to us anymore", King Solomon stated. "We've been governing ourselves for hundreds of years and now we get this…message, from so long ago. This very well could be the beginning of something eminence."

"Mountain", Levi began, "someone approaches." They grew quiet, until the footfalls settled in the distance. "Oh. Just your lovely wife, Mountain. I'll leave you two."

"Don't go far", Solomon said, "We have researched to do." 

Levi smiled, bowed and left his king, as his wife entered. He bowed to her as well before taking his leave. 

"Handsome as ever, Levi", she said, her voice regal and as royal as she looked. Tall, slender and almond hued. Levi blushed before he found himself out. 

Queen Sibyl of the House of Crows, wore a black cloak that draped down from her shoulders. As she swayed, her blackened cloak shown an oily rainbow, authentic of a true Crow. Around her neck was a bright red fur, surely some kind of Ape pelt. She didn't wear a crown, as she was a Queen and didn't have the Heavenly powers like the Kings had. Although Queens were powerful peoples, in terms of trading, troop movement and war tactics. They commanded all that was of the land and the King was the one with the crown. Commander of the heavens.

Queen Sibyl, Queen of Crows, wore black diamond watches, three of them, up her wrist. As well as a large necklace, bedazzled in black diamonds, with a thirteen point star. Every point had its own uncut jewel. Orange, red, blue, white- many different hues that shone off the fire light. Perhaps all of them, sparkling.

She came to King Solomon's side, standing six inches taller. Skin like an almond, chubby in the cheeks and eyes with a fiery brown to them, like the flames of the dead. They were nearly glowing.  "Solomon", she smiled. "In the library as always."

"Sibyl", Solomon said, "beautiful. As always." They hugged, she gave him a kiss.

They walked down to the first floor, they were on the fourth, and sat in their royal thrones. The fire blazed warmly before them. They sat five feet away from each other, an orange Ape pelt on the floor in-between. The Ape pelt changed its colors from brown to orange as the shadow did its ceremonial dance. 

"What seems to be the problem today?" Solomom asked, his many rings tapping against the soft wooden throne. Orange, of the Goroo'Hih'Ro tree. Most royal things were. 

"Do you really believe I only come to talk to you when there's a problem?" Queen Sibyl asked, seemingly amused.

"It's nearly a fact", Solomon joked. 

"Well, I guess so. I have been neglecting you haven't I", Sibyl stated, rather than asked. She played with her second watch, black diamonds shimmering. 

"On with it, Sibyl."

She  smiled. "Are you trying to get me out of your hair? I would never have expected this from you, Solomon."

"Well you should", Solomon joked. "I'm a rambunctious young man, I am." 

"Anything but, Solomon", Sibyl chuckled. She slapped her armrest. "Yes, anyway. I am here for something…"

"Yes?"

She bit her lip. "I request your deflowerment."

Yesterday's Desire.

Chapter Three; How To Fly.

AMON OF JUDAH.

The air left his lungs. Life grew slowly. The breeze no longer blew.

The recruits grew further, faces of emotionless skeletons. Then they grew small as Amon began to plummet…

It all happened as if Amon was moving through another dimension; a place of rushing winds and a curled stomach. One where the physics of reality were backward as he rushed down to die. 

His breath ceased, his gut lurched and it felt as if all of his organs were falling skyward rather than seaward. The Starling Sea, Amon remembered Jesus' voice. So noble his being was. Honorable. And he wasn't even a soldier. Just a recruit, he had told Amon.

Amon saw the last of Jesus' face, saddened and nothing much more, and then the recruits disappeared beyond the face of the cliff, as Amon fell to his death. 

Still could he not fill his lungs with life. Reality around him moved as if they didn't: slowly and unprogressive. Amon's organs still heaved themselves toward the bright blue of the sky, while he fell toward the deep dark blue of the Starling Sea. It did not shine.

Two orbs, one of chestnut brown and the other a hellish red, observed from the sky; the suns. Forever watchmen.

For a second, a single second, Amon felt his organs return, before his body realized they were in a perpetual plummet. His guts lurched once more. Amon, finally, after falling for seemingly half a minute, caught a breath. It wasn't very much, just enough to wake him. He could truly feel the fall now. He felt his guts falling up and the force of the air against the back of his skull. In his skull. His skin tingled. Amon rotated, his eyes faced down and he spread his limbs apart. He fell slower, and he got control of his body. His mind grew as clear as the sky he swam through. His heart became steady. The sea was still far away, relatively. But the second stone plateau was only a hundred feet out. He fell toward it.