CHAPTER 4
It was a bright, cloudless day in Irving, Texas. A good day for a funeral, according to Paw-paw. Darion had spent the days since his ascension socializing at his party and being shown around his mansion, though the time seemed to pass more like hours than days. Still, Jacob’s plight weighed heavily on his mind, and he was eager to begin training.
Aside from wanting to train, Darion had mixed feelings about attending his own funeral. On the one hand, he longed to see his parents, his friends, and, especially, Julia. On the other, he was terrified at the prospect of seeing his own lifeless body. “Relax, it’s a closed casket,” Granddad had told him, apparently oblivious to the macabre. Then there was the worry that few people would attend. That fear was assuaged when Darion, along with his grandparents, uncle, and Hughes, teleported to the church. “It’s a good turnout,” Nana told Darion. There were at least fifty people in attendance—family members, friends, and military buddies.
His team members who’d died in the attack that cost him his life attended as well. He’d missed their funerals (the services were held while he was still in his medically induced coma). He made them all a promise: he would free Jacob from his tormentors.
Darion’s parents sat in the front pew, his dad looking sharp in a black suit, and his mom lovely in a black dress. Darion’s dad held her hand as they looked somberly at the casket before them. Julia sat beside them wearing a black pantsuit, sobbing and looking down. Even with her mascara beginning to run from her tears, Darion thought she was as beautiful as ever.
Darion sat by Julia as the service commenced, the latter completely oblivious to his presence. The other Ascended opted for a bird’s eye view of the proceedings, hovering high above the pews. The pastor presiding over the service spoke of the frailty of life and the hope of eternal, heavenly peace. The time came for the attendees to give remarks, with some of Darion’s friends and family taking the opportunity to tell stories about him and pay tribute to his character. The pastor concluded the service with the eulogy, after which the six-man army honor guard carried the casket to the hearse that would take it to the cemetery. Darion’s parents, Julia, and a couple of immediate relatives—and Darion, unbeknownst to them—rode in the limousine that followed the hearse.
The procession arrived shortly at Peaceful Prairie Memorial Park. There was a tent erected over the gravesite with seats lined up for the mourners. Darion was glad to see his loved ones and the homage they paid to him, but he was growing weary of their sadness and was eager to be done with the ordeal. He stood by Julia as she shuddered with each shot the honor guard fired in a three-volley salute. The honor guards folded the American flag draped over Darion’s casket, presented it to his mother, and the service was concluded. The mourners began to file out—Darion’s parents and Julia were the last to leave the site. Darion and the other Ascended remained behind after the others had left.
“Are you okay, son?” Granddad asked him.
“I’m fine, Granddad,” he assured him, his gaze focused on the undertakers now covering his casket with dirt. “Hughes,” Darion said abruptly, “I’m ready.”
“Right,” said Hughes, “then it’s off to Polaris.”
Darion’s grandparents and uncle hugged him and gave him encouraging words for his training.
“So, I just focus on Polaris and then I’m there, right?” Darion asked Hughes.
“Wait a second,” said Hughes. “It’s not that simple. To teleport somewhere, you have to have been to that place to visualize where you want to appear. You’ve never been to Polaris. You could end up appearing in the star’s core or somewhere thousands of miles away from the Command Center. How about I handle this one?”
With that, Hughes emitted a ring of light and whisked them both away.
Polaris: designation and base of operations for the Ascended Host. The base—the size of a metroplex—hovered, encapsulated in a force-field dome in the atmosphere, completely engulfed by the light yellow flames of the super-giant star.
They materialized in a great hall amidst a thick crowd of Ascended and Bots.
“This is the reception hall of the Command Center,” said Hughes. “This is where most choose to materialize when teleporting to Polaris.”
“This is amazing!” said Darion as he looked around.
Tall pillars, intricately etched in silver and gold, extended upward but supported no roof. Far above the peaks of the pillars, a sky of white-yellow flames danced outside the invisible dome. Beneath their feet, a highly polished silvery floor mirrored all above.
Around them swarmed stern-faced Ascended, moving briskly to and fro, many giving Hughes a nod and Darion a smile.
“These are our comrades in the Ascended Host,” said Hughes. “Polaris is not only the Host’s home base, but a community and training facility as well. Some people actually live here on Polaris. Many are full-time Polaris staff, and others are warriors going to and from missions. Polaris is also home of the Halls of Glory: a training facility where we can study spiritual or transphysical warfare and hone our combat skills.”
“Is that where we’re going?” asked Darion.
“Yes,” said Hughes. “First, I want to take you to the Command Center and introduce you to the commander, and then I’ll give you the tour.”
“Cool,” said Darion. “Who’s the commander?”
“I’m sure you’ve heard of him from reading the Bible,” said Hughes. “He is Enoch, great-grandfather of Noah.”
A questioning look came across Darion’s face. “Enoch never died, right?” said Darion. “He was taken up directly by God himself.”
“True,” said Hughes. “Favor was found in him, and he was taken up to be prepared by the angels for his appointment as head of the Ascended Host.”
They made their way through the reception hall to the great door of the Command Center. In the wall of the Command Center, there was a huge, golden, capital letter H with another capital H stacked atop it, resembling two parallel vertical lines with two horizontal parallel lines between them. The door to the Command Center comprised the area below the bottom horizontal line, a solid, reflective silvery metal.
“The symbol in the wall is like the one on my waist band,” said Darion.
“Of course,” said Hughes. “It’s the symbol of the Heavenly Host: stacked H’s.”
“Wait a minute,” said Darion. “This symbol was on my band before I agreed to serve in the Host.”
Hughes gave a chuckle. “Was it now?” he said. “Let’s just say your choice was anticipated.”
Darion smiled.
As they neared the door, the thick slab of metal shot upward and disappeared into the wall. The door opened into a long, wide room. Things seemed as hectic inside the Command Center as in the reception hall. In the center of the room floated a three-dimensional projection of the earth, around which many members of the Host were standing and conversing. A large horizontal arc of bluish light, like a projected screen, rounded the walls except at the entrance and extended upward a few stories. On the arc were live images of places on earth—crowds of people, images of individuals at home and about—some pleasant, some not so much. There were panels around the walls at which people sat, working and examining the various scenes; some hovered in the air or sat in floating seats examining images higher up on the projected arc. There were metal staircases to the left and right that rounded up to, and appeared to be supporting, a wide, circular platform resting high above the floor.
“This is the Command Center,” said Hughes. “The images on the viewing arc are coming in live from earth. The command seat is upstairs.”
They made their way up the steps and onto the platform. Around the edge of the platform sat people at workstations facing the viewing arc. A metal walkway extended like a peninsula from the forefront of the platform, ending in a spherical metal orb in which sat a man with a blue halo around his head. The man seemed to be giving orders to unknown listeners, as if speaking into a headset, as the sphere in which he sat spun this way and that.
“That’s Enoch, the commander,” said Hughes.
The commander’s torso, in a white blazer with a white shirt and white and gold tie, protruded from the spherical chair connected to the platform. He appeared to be strongly built, but, unlike anyone else Darion had seen, the commander looked slightly aged. He had dark brown skin with a smooth complexion and a stern face. His black hair was short, with grey showing on the tapered sides and in his beard.
“He looks older than everyone else,” said Darion. “He has grey hair. I thought the Essence sustained us, sustained a youthful appearance?”
“That’s just the commander’s preference,” said Hughes. “Through mastery of the Essence, we can even control our appearance. The commander prefers the refined look.”
Enoch glanced over and saw Hughes.
“Ah, Joseph,” said the commander.
His spherical chair disconnected from the peninsular extension and floated over to Hughes and Darion.
“Good day, commander,” said Hughes.
“Hello, sir,” Darion said to the commander.
“Hello, Darion,” said the commander. “It’s good to finally meet you in person. My name is Enoch, I’m the commander of the Ascended Host. I’m familiar with your self- sacrificing deeds on earth. I must say, it’s good to have you on the team.”
“Thank you, sir,” said Darion.
“Sorry to interrupt you, commander,” said Hughes. “I thought I’d introduce Darion to you before I gave him the tour.”
“No problem, Hughes,” said the commander. “I’m pretty good at multitasking. Even now I’m corresponding telepathically with agents throughout the universe.” The commander looked to Darion. “Are you excited, my boy?” he asked him. “Eager to learn, I’m sure.”
“Definitely, sir,” said Darion.
“Good, good,” said the commander. “You’d be hard-pressed to find a better teacher than Hughes here. He’s one of the wisest and one of the most skilled combatants we have in the Host. Isn’t that right, Hughes?”
“Well, you said it,” said Hughes.
“Always modest,” said the commander. “Well, I guess I can tell Darion a little about the Command Center before you give him the tour of Polaris.”
Darion and Hughes thanked the commander.
“Basically,” said Enoch, “the Command Center is where we monitor the earth and enemy activity. We assess situations and decide the best course of action to take given the circumstances. Missions are delegated through me to the various agents of the Host. That is, requests from those who believe in the Creator still reach him even though he is out of this dimension for a time. He relays his instructions to me telepathically, and I, in turn, deploy Ascended agents to execute his will. This could range from anything to watching over one of the faithful, to confronting enemy forces. Sometimes the Ascended come here requesting permission to intervene in certain affairs on earth.”
They made their way around the Command Center, with the commander introducing Darion to various staff members. Darion learned about the workings of the viewing arc and its applications for tracking and monitoring beings on earth. He learned of how the commander used the Essence to communicate with Ascended all over the galaxy—the blue halo around his head being the manifestation of that ability.
“That’s about it,” said the commander upon concluding the tour of the Command Center. “This is how things operate until the Creator returns, which we all feel will be sooner than later. No one knows when, but the return of the Creator, the Redeemer, and the angelic Host to this dimension will herald the final confrontation with the enemy and peace for all creation… Until then, we fight the good fight… Well, you have much more to see here on Polaris, and I’m sure you’re eager to begin your training.”
Darion and Hughes thanked the commander and then exited the Command Center. They picked up a bite to eat at a Bot-run diner and then made their way by flight around the city, observing many sights—the residential district, the engine core that sustained the base’s orbit, the fringes of the city, where, through the dome energy barrier, they could see the surface of the star, a flaming sea of white hot plasma—until finally arriving at the Halls of Glory: the training center of the Host.
“This is it,” said Hughes as they touched down in front of the massive gate, “the Halls of Glory. Wisdom and power reside in these walls. Here, we will begin your training.”
Darion gazed wide eyed at the monumental wall and gate before him. The wall was of a silvery metal, at least one hundred feet high, with the names of countless Ascended etched on its face in gold. The golden gate was formed in the shape of the massive stacked H’s of the Host of Heaven, with the lowermost horizontal line level with the top of the wall.
They walked up the golden walkway through the gates and into the grounds of the training center. Far ahead of them lay the Halls of Glory, an enormous complex of shimmering gold. On either side of the golden walkway lay expanses of brilliantly white sands. On the grounds, there were many warriors of the Host engaged in hand-to-hand combat sparring, with some fighting against multiple Bots: every connecting blow a senseshattering clap as loud as a gunshot.
They both stood and watched the action.
“What’s the point of fighting for immortal beings?” asked Darion. “How is the winner determined?”
“We’re immortal, yes,” replied Hughes, “but not invulnerable. The fact that we can experience physical pleasure opens us to the ability to feel physical discomfort as well. We can be injured in a clash with another transphysical being. True, we cannot be killed, and our injuries regenerate at an exponential rate—but in a struggle against another such entity, the Essence can be taxed to exhaustion, whether the Essence is used for attack or defense, regenerating injuries or causing them.
“When the Essence is so exhausted, one can be restrained by an adversary. Another method of besting a foe is through particle dispersal. This results when an attack is so devastating that it disassembles the opponent at the molecular level. Again, this cannot destroy us, but it can take quite some time for the Essence to rejuvenate to a point where it can regenerate the body.
“A great advantage goes to the being with the greater Essence, hence, the necessity for training. One gains more endurance in the Essence through meditation and practice, which allows the Essence to concentrate and grow—much like a runner whose cardiovascular strength increases with practice. Determination, though, is key as well, and the more determined warrior can often best an opponent who possesses greater Essence.”
Darion nodded in understanding and they proceeded up the walkway toward the training facility. An aerial view would reveal that the building was in the shape of a colossal capital H, each section comprising one of five great halls. The horizontal section formed the Hall of Knowledge (the largest library in the universe) and divided the two vertical sections into four halls, two above the library and two below.
The golden walkway branched into three toward the facility—one section keeping straight leading to the library, with the others forking to the left and right to the training halls. Darion and Hughes headed straight for the library through the massive courtyard formed by the Hall of Knowledge ahead and the halls on either side.
As they advanced, Hughes told Darion of the facility. “The Halls of Glory are not only a training facility for the Ascended, but also for the Supernals. The Supernals are those born of the Ascended—people born in heaven, never having lived on earth. The halls are an academy—basic training if you will—for those Supernals who wish to serve on the earthly plane.”
“Will I be training with the Supernals?” asked Darion.
“You will get a chance to train with them,” said Hughes. “You’ll find that the Supernals are exceptional physical combatants, having grown their entire lives in Ascended bodies. The head master of the Hall of Might is actually a relatively young Supernal. But mostly you’ll be training with me—one on one.”
Darion nodded.
“As you saw from the air, the main facility is in the shape of a capital H. The Halls of Glory are divided into five sections—the library, also called the Hall of Knowledge, and four great halls dedicated to the mastery of specific skills. Each of the four halls is home to a class of matriculated Supernals. The section ahead of us, the horizontal part of the H, is the Hall of Knowledge—the largest library in the universe. The writings of many wise beings can be found there.
“On our right, which would be the left leg of the H, is the Hall of Might—dedicated to physical combat.
“To the left, is the Hall of Creation—dedicated to applications of the Essence for altering and manipulating reality and bringing things into being.
“The hall to the rear of the facility, adjacent to the Hall of Creation, is the Hall of Destruction—dedicated to destructive and combative applications of the Essence.
“The rear hall, opposite the Hall of Might, is the Hall of Conception—dedicated to history, strategy, and tactics.”
As they neared the Hall of Knowledge, Darion admired the grounds. Large fountains stood on either side of the walkway, with tall, white, stone statues of powerful figures bowed in prayer. Many individuals were sitting around the fountains or on the ground, reading and meditating.
They approached the library and stopped just in front of the massive door. The door appeared to be a solid slab of dark oak, twenty feet high, with no handle or hinges.
Darion stared at the door and then at Hughes. Hughes looked back at Darion with a smile.
“After you,” said Hughes.
Darion looked at the door and then back at Hughes. “Uh … age before beauty,” he said with a smile.
“Come on,” said Hughes. “Are you going to let the fact that there is no way to open this door prevent you from entering it?”
“Teleport through it?” asked Darion.
“That’s one way, but unnecessary. Why teleport when you can simply walk through it.”
Hughes’s eyes began to glow golden. Suddenly he became translucent, walked forward, and disappeared through the door. Darion stood there for a moment gazing at the door, and then made his move.
Clunk!
Darion walked smack into the door and stumbled back. Hughes’s head emerged from the door, staring at Darion.
“What’s taking so long?” asked Hughes. “You teleported easily; the principle is the same. Think teleport, but not quite. Before teleportation, your body begins to dematerialize. That is the state you want to achieve to pass through matter. Let yourself go, as if preparing to teleport, but hold that feeling.”
Darion concentrated and his body began to flash back and forth from solid to translucent.
“That’s it,” said Hughes. “Right there, you’re permeable. Feel it. Maintain it. Come through.”
Hughes’s head disappeared back into the library. Darion walked forward slowly and passed through the door.
“Good job,” said Hughes. “You’re a quick learner.”
It was no wonder that the Hall of Knowledge was the largest library in the universe. The hall seemed to run indefinitely to either side. The entrance hall alone was an enormous rectangular expanse, with a reception desk in the center with many Bot attendants. Stairs on either side of the reception desk spiraled up hundreds of feet; some individuals were trudging up the steps, others chose simply to float up to their destinations.
“This way, Darion,” said Hughes. “We have to check in to receive lodging.”
They made their way to the reception desk and were greeted by a powerfully built silver Bot.
“Greetings, gentlemen,” said the Bot. “How may I be of assistance?”
“I’d like lodging for two, please,” said Hughes.”
“Excellent,” said the Bot. “Is there a preferred hall, sir?”
Hughes looked at Darion. “I want to begin your training with Creative Applications of the Essence. You will learn subtleties that will assist you in the mastery of the other areas.”
Darion nodded.
Hughes turned to the Bot receptionist. “We’ll be staying in the Hall of Creation.”
“Excellent, sir,” said the Bot. “Let’s see … you’ll be staying in suite 117 on the ground level. Would you like to go to your room now, sirs?”
“Yes,” said Hughes. “We should get settled in first.”
“Indeed, sir,” said the Bot, whose fingers fluttered as if typing, though there was no keypad before him. Suddenly, a small ring of light began to flash green in a panel on the reception desk. “Ready when you are, sirs,” said the Bot.
Hughes laid his hand flat in the blinking ring and was illuminated with a green light and then disappeared. Darion stood there staring at the Bot for a moment.
“Are you ready, sir?” asked the Bot.
“Oh … yeah,” said Darion. He placed his hand in the ring of light as Hughes had and then disappeared.
He materialized in the center of a living room area in a suite. There was a sleeping area to his rear, a wide kitchen area to the left, and a large golden curtain covering the entire wall to the right. The walls and carpet were white, as well as the sofa and recliners. The sheets on the two king-sized beds were white and gold. Hughes was standing by the far wall that was covered by the curtain.
“Man,” said Darion. “This is a lot nicer than the barracks!”
“Just a little,” laughed Hughes. “How about some more light?”
Hughes pulled the curtain back to reveal a glass wall through which the grounds could be seen.
“Nice,” said Darion.
“Darion,” said Hughes, “before we begin your training, I need to let you know what it entails.”
Hughes walked over to the living area and sat in a recliner. Darion sat on the sofa.
“How do you feel, Darion? We’ve been doing a lot of running around.”
“I feel great. I don’t feel tired or anything.”
“That’s because the Essence sustains us; our bodies don’t require sleep to rejuvenate. We can rest or sleep to collect our thoughts and relax the mind, or if the Essence is so depleted that it requires regeneration.”
“I see.”
“So, you are eager to begin your training?”
“No doubt. The sooner I can help my friend—help people—the better.”
“Good. I like your enthusiasm. The training will be difficult at times, though I think it’s mostly fun. Learning to utilize your powers can be exhilarating, but trying as well.”
“Whatever it takes, Hughes.”
“Good.”
“I have some questions, Hughes,” said Darion. “You said that the halls are an academy for the … Supernals. So I’ll be like the new kid at school or something?”
“Don’t tell me you’re nervous,” laughed Hughes. “You needn’t be worried. You have lived through what the Supernals are here to learn about. To the young Supernals, you’re like a survivor, a veteran—someone who has actually lived through the trials and pains of the earthly realm.”
“That’s sort of a relief,” said Darion. “But why would I be anything special to them? Their parents are Ascended from earth. Why would they need to come here to learn about it?”
“The fact that their parents are Ascended doesn’t reduce their curiosity. They love to hear stories of what it was like on earth. They learn about the ways of the world here, but what they truly come here to learn are the arts of combat. This is the best training facility in the universe. Many of the Supernals are born to parents who have chosen not to serve directly in the Host, parents who can’t really instruct them in the intricacies of transphysical combat. Supernals grow up hearing stories about earth from their parents, and many wish to become involved in the affairs themselves. At eighteen, they can join the Host, and they come here to train.”
Darion nodded. “Okay so how do things work here, the training?”
“For the Supernals, training lasts one year, divided into three-month quarters for each hall. Upon completion of their training, they can take on staff positions at headquarters or field apprenticeships.”
“I’ll have to be here a year before I’m any use?”
“Hardly. Unlike the Supernals, whose training consists of classes with many students learning from a few teachers, you’ll be receiving instruction directly from me. With direct apprenticeship, students learn more information in a shorter time. The Supernals are also learning history and the ways of the world here in the Hall of Conception, which you need not bother with.
“We’re primarily here to use the training facilities, the Oneiric Chambers, and for sparring. You’ll get to interact and do a little training with the Supernals and other apprentices; it will be mutually beneficial for you to test your skills against each other.”
“Great,” said Darion. “So when do we begin?”
“Right now,” said Hughes. Hughes rose to his feet. “Come. I’ll show you the training chambers and we’ll begin your first lesson.”
The training chambers were accessed by teleportation platforms on each floor. They made their way down the hall through the visitor’s wing, past the Supernal student dorms to a circular clearing that seemed to emanate a golden light.
“This teleportal leads to the subterranean training chambers,” said Hughes. “Just stand in the circle and we’ll be teleported down.”
Darion and Hughes stepped onto the radiant clearance and stood side by side.
“Creative Applications,” said Hughes and they dematerialized.
They reappeared on a teleportal on the edge of a large circular hall. On the top level rounding the hall were many arching, golden doors. The hall resembled an auditorium, with descending seats that encircled a lower platform. There was a man in the midst of the platform who appeared to be giving a lecture to the many individuals filling the stands.
“Creative Applications seminar,” Hughes said in a low voice. “These doors going around the hall lead to training rooms. Just walk through like you did before.”
Darion nodded and they made their way to the nearest door and were about to dematerialize when a shout came from the platform below.
“Joseph! Joseph Hughes!” called the man on the platform.
“Just ignore your old buddy, huh, Hughes?”
“I didn’t want to interrupt,” replied Hughes.
“Bull,” said the man. “No interruption. And you have an apprentice. Come down. Introduce us.”
“Come down,” said someone in the stands, which led to applause from the whole assembly.
“All right, all right,” said Hughes.
With smiles on their faces, Darion and Hughes made their way down the steps as the assembly continued to clap and cheer. They reached the bottom and Hughes and Darion levitated up to the platform.
“All right,” said the instructor, a lean, muscular, black guy in white robes trimmed with navy blue. “Settle down. This man here is an old friend of mine and one of the most powerful warriors of the Host, almost on par with yours truly—Joseph Hughes, ladies and gentlemen, Joseph Hughes.”
The assembly clapped.
“We ascended around the same time, class of ’65,” the man continued, “and took on some pretty tough missions. Luckily, he had me to watch his back.”
Hughes laughed.
“Darion,” said Hughes, “this is my good friend Adam Jones. Sorry … Master Jones. Jones, this is Darion Elmore.”
“Get outta here with the master jive, Hughes,” laughed Jones. “Call me Adam, or Jones, Darion.”
Darion and Jones shook hands. “It’s nice to meet you, Adam,” said Darion.
“So, how did you get it?” Jones asked Darion. “Iraq, I suppose?”
“Uh … yeah,” said Darion.
“Small arms? IED?”
“Suicide bomber,” said Darion. “Grenade.”
“Nice,” said Jones. “I was blown to bits in Vietnam. Land mine. Messy, messy.”
Darion didn’t know how to react to that information. He decided to smile.
“So, taking on an apprentice?” Jones asked Hughes.
“I figured it was time,” said Hughes. “You know how it gets in the field. You can lose sight of things sometimes. Having an apprentice tends to keep one grounded.”
“I hear ya,” said Jones. “That’s one reason I took up here as an instructor … that, and affirmative action—had to get some brothas up in here, Hughes.”
Hughes shook his head and chuckled.
“You hear that, students?” Jones said as he looked around at the assembly. “Even the best of us can grow weary from the challenges of field duty. Hughes here is a master in his own right. He has fought in legendary battles with the forces of the Enemy, but even he is not immune to the disheartening nature of the struggles of the earthly realm. Know that, students. To serve on the earthly plane is to open yourself to sorrows you could never imagine. But … that’s why we are here, to prepare you for such things.”
“Sorry, Hughes,” continued Jones. “I know you’re here to conduct training, it’s just always good to see an old friend. Before you go, how about a demonstration of Creative Applications? How ’bout it class?”
The assembly clapped enthusiastically in approval; even Darion started to clap. Darion thought it was funny that the formidable Hughes was actually blushing.
“All right, all right,” said Hughes, and the crowd hushed. “This is a creation technique that has many combative applications as well. It’s come in handy for me in a number of battles.”
Hughes extended his arm with his palm up as if holding a ball. A small ball of churning yellow plasma—about the size of a golf ball—materialized just above his palm. There were murmurs of awe from the crowd.
“What I have here is a sphere of stellar, nucleosynthesizing plasma,” said Hughes.
People in the crowd looked questioningly at one another and at Hughes.
“Sorry,” said Hughes. “It’s a little star. To bring it into being, one must form a mental image of the object, and then concentrate on it with such determination as to make it manifest. It can be made larger … ” The small sphere of light grew to the size of a basketball. “Or smaller.” It shrank back to its original size.
“A handy technique,” continued Hughes, “whether you’re forming a galaxy, or looking to hurl it at an enemy.”
Hughes closed his hand and the ball disappeared. The crowd applauded raucously, and Hughes responded with a slight bow.
“Thank you, Joseph,” said Jones.
Hughes nodded.
“Well,” said Jones, “I’ve taken enough of your time. I’m sure you and Darion are eager to begin training. Don’t be a stranger, Hughes.”
“I won’t,” said Hughes. “It’s good to see you, Jones. Take care.”
“It was good to meet you, sir,” said Darion.
“Take care,” replied Jones.
Darion and Hughes waved good-bye to the assembly and made their way back up to the training room. They got to the door and stopped. Hughes looked at Darion with a raised brow. Darion gave a smile, dematerialized, and passed through the door, followed by Hughes.
Darion thought something had gone wrong with his dematerialization when he stepped into the training room. Except for the arching, golden door protruding from nothingness, the room was an expanse with no visible walls, ceiling, or floor—just white space.
Darion turned to Hughes with a confused look on his face. “It’s just a lot of nothing,” he said.
“Exactly,” said Hughes. “It’s Oneiric space. This is a Creative Applications training room. We create from nothing.”
“Cool,” said Darion.
Hughes smiled. “Perhaps this is more to your liking,” he said, and suddenly they were standing on a plane of green grass, expanding in every direction as far as the eye could see into the nothingness.
“How about a sky, Darion?” said Hughes. “Concentrate. Think of a blue sky in your head—picture it. Now expand your thoughts, that picture, outward. Make your thoughts reality. Make reality your thoughts.”
Darion closed his eyes and pictured a blue sky above the green plane. He opened his eyes and the white nothingness flickered and then turned blue.
“Excellent,” said Hughes.
“Would I be able to do this in the real world,” asked Darion, “or just in the Oneiric Plane?”
“Both,” said Hughes. “The same laws apply in the Oneiric Plane as in the material universe.”
“So I could change the color of the sky on earth?” asked Darion.
“Not the whole sky, but to a degree,” said Hughes. “It depends on the potency of one’s Essence. You can see that you have manifested a blue sky from nothing, but if we were to travel a few miles in any direction, you would see that the blue sky fades back to nothingness. Though our Essence and powers can be greatly increased through practice, what one created being can do still has its limits. That is why it took a host of celestial beings to fashion the universe.”
Darion nodded.
“Now,” said Hughes, “Creative Applications. As I said before, through Creative Applications you will learn subtleties that will assist you in the mastery of the other areas—destructive applications and physical combat. For instance, earlier I demonstrated the manifestation of solar plasma, an act of creating energy from nothing. As you can probably imagine, burning solar plasma can have numerous destructive applications.”
Suddenly, a large sphere of stone appeared before them, floating high in the air. Hughes dropped into a wide stance and thrust his arm toward the boulder with his fingers splayed.
“Solar canon!” Hughes shouted and a basketball-sized orb of yellow plasma exploded from before his palm toward the stone. The ball smashed into the boulder and bored into it. Yellow light shone from within the rock through the hole where the ball of plasma crashed, and then many rays of light began to shine through cracks forming in its surface. The boulder then exploded in a flash of light, showering Darion and Hughes in debris.
“Nice,” said Darion, with his arms shielding his face.
“Yeah,” said Hughes with a smile, not affected by the hail of debris.
Darion put his arms down and looked at Hughes.
“Hughes,” he said, “you gotta teach me how to do that!”
“There’s a process, Darion,” said Hughes. “Creative Applications, then Destructive.”
“I know,” said Darion, “but that move is tight. Solar canon!”
“Indeed,” said Hughes. “I guess we can incorporate the solar canon into a lesson on creation. How about creating some targets, Darion? Concentrate. Just like the sky. Your thoughts are reality, reality is your thoughts.”
Darion concentrated and a large boulder materialized on the ground in the distance in front of them.
“Good,” said Hughes. “More! Create something with properties, like floating. Create a stone, but think of it as hovering in midair—defying gravity.”
Darion concentrated and a second large boulder appeared a good distance above the first, hovering in midair. It floated for a moment, but came crashing down to the ground next to the other.
“You concentrated on a boulder in midair,” said Hughes, “but not on it sustaining itself there. Give it a mission. Will it to float.”
Darion willed a third boulder to appear high above the first, and maintained its position.
“Good,” said Hughes. “Delegation is an essential creative skill. Delegating properties to created objects can have many applications. With practice, you can create objects, even life forms, with a number of behaviors. Delegation can also have many combat applications. You can create a decoy of yourself. It won’t have sentience, but you can delegate to it behaviors that resemble intelligence.”
“Delegation is the trick to the solar canon as well,” Hughes continued. “Think of it not as simply creating a stationary ball of plasma, but bringing forth a ball of plasma at a great speed. Delegate forward momentum to the ball, which it will follow upon materializing. A good method for visualizing this is to imagine one’s arm as a canon, with the plasma exploding from it. Hence, the solar canon.”
Darion nodded his head and extended his arm toward the first boulder with his fingers spread as Hughes had done.
“The ball is already traveling at a great speed,” said Hughes. “When it appears, it will continue to travel at that great speed.”
Darion closed his eyes and then suddenly dropped his arm.
“What happened?” asked Hughes.
“Uh, do I have to shout ‘solar canon’?” asked Darion.
Hughes laughed. “It tends to help, I think,” he said. “Words are powerful. The universe came into being with the words of the Creator. Words are thoughts made manifest, and therefore, words can reinforce your thoughts. You don’t have to say it, but I think saying the words helps to concentrate your efforts.”
Darion nodded and again extended his arm toward the boulder.
“Solar canon!” he shouted, and the ball of plasma materialized before his palm and moved slowly toward the boulder.
Darion put his arm down and looked at Hughes and then back at the lethargic plasma ball.
Hughes folded his arms and nodded his head while looking at the ball.
“It’s … moving kinda slow,” said Darion.
“Yeah,” said Hughes. “You delegated motion nicely though. More energy next time, that’s all.”
Darion nodded his head as the plasma ball continued to slowly make its way to the boulder. About a minute later, the ball of plasma connected with the boulder and began to burn through it.
“Hmph, I was expecting it to explode on impact,” said Darion.
“Million-degree plasma tends to burn through whatever it touches,” said Hughes. “It will explode on contact when it encounters a resistant force, such as another transphysical being. If you want it to explode, will it so.”
The plasma ball was still boring slowly into the face of the boulder when Darion willed it to explode. The detonation showered them in debris and sent a mushroom cloud high into the air.
“Sweet,” said Darion behind his shielding arms.
“What are you doing?” asked Hughes. “Are you worried about a little debris getting in your eyes, or putting out your eyes?”
Darion lowered his arms and looked questioningly at Hughes.
Hughes’s eyes began to glow with a golden flame and he looked up toward the falling debris. Golden rays of light shot from Hughes’s eyes, disintegrating every falling chunk of debris they met.
“Hughes,” said Darion, “you gotta teach me how to do that!”
Hughes and Darion spent a few more hours in the training room. Darion learned how to shoot searing rays of light from his eyes and developed a proper solar canon. He worked on creating a number of basic elements—vegetation, water, fire, and stones—and was also introduced to creating animated beings with delegated behaviors, producing a duplicate of himself and causing it to walk.
At the completion of the day’s training, Darion willed the training room back to the white nothingness and he and Hughes exited through the arched door.
Hughes patted Darion on the back. “That was a good first session, Darion,” he said. “It’s all about getting you acquainted with what you can do with the Essence, and getting you to visualize and believe.”
“Man, creating a double of myself was crazy!” said Darion. “I can’t wait to practice some more. You sure you don’t want to go back?”
“That’s good for today,” said Hughes. “I think you’ve learned enough to wrap your mind around until the next session. Meditate, and envision further possibilities and innovations.”