Infinite Sacrifice (2 page)

This sounds like torture. “If I
watch every moment, won’t that take years to watch?”

“You’re going to see your past
lives as you remember them; there will be large gaps in time and
missing information. You will only be watching moments of great
importance. After you watch every life, you’ll fully remember that
life. It will become a part of you, which can be difficult and
stressful to accept.”

“Do I watch the life I’ve most
recently left first?” A sick feeling in my stomach grows as I
wonder if I’ll witness it all over again; it was hard enough
getting through it all the first time.

He shakes his head. “No, you must
view each life from your first incarnation to your
last.”

“Can I choose not to go through
with this?”

“You can. We can just sit here, but
then you can’t move on further to be reunited with the ones you
want to be with right now.”

It was like those mornings as a
child when I’d wake up to the rare smell of pancakes, and when I
rushed downstairs, all my siblings would be carrying syrupy plates
to the sink—no one had thought to even wake me! Here they are
again, somewhere farther in heaven, all together, without me, while
I’m stalled in this whole process.

“All I want to do is see them. I’ve
waited so long.” Tears run down once I blink. “And now you’re
telling me that I may never see them again?”

“I have no doubt you will get
through this. You always have, but I can wait until you feel you’re
ready to start. I’ll try my best to prepare you and create a
soothing atmosphere that will allow you to accept what you see. I
can answer most questions you have and we can stop at any point
until you are able to move on. Time is different here.”

“What do you mean time is different
here?” He couldn’t gloss over that.

“Just like gravity is different on
different planets, time is different here. It’s not easy to compare
to earth time. But you can relax and move at your own
pace.”

“Are you saying Ellie is already
dead?”

“Yes, your sister’s
here.”

The moments I’ve spent here with
Zachariah must have been years on earth if Ellie had died. I feel
terrible not being there for her, I wish I could’ve been there to
welcome her but then again, Zachariah was the only one there for
me.

“Is she going through this stage
right now too?” I can just imagine her yelling at her spirit guide
somewhere near here, even more frustrated at being delayed than I
am.

He nods. “But all the others are
waiting.”

“All?”

“Everyone you’ve been waiting to
see.”

“Can I just see them first?” I scan
the empty sand dunes blowing behind me.

“No, I’m sorry.”

I close my eyes and bend into the
lotus position in my chair. “Well, let’s start, then, and get this
over with.”

He notices my assumed position.
“Patience is definitely not one of your virtues. I think we should
make a note of that for your next incarnation,” he says, yet
quickly adds, “That is, if you need another one, of
course.”

“You mean I might have to go back?”
Panic flashes hot under my skin; I’d assumed once I reached heaven,
I would get to stay. I can’t go through it all again.

He places his hand on top of mine.
“It’s a very long journey, and it is possible you must live more
lives.”

“Does that mean everyone important
to me might be done with their incarnating? Will I have to go back
alone if I’m not done?”

He closes his eyes, and I witness
the intense light flare from his hand clutching mine crawl up my
arm and push out all worry from my tense body. I take a deep breath
and relax again.

He withdraws his smooth hand. “Now,
I have to tell you, once you start viewing, you can’t stop until
that life is done. Even if you are watching something difficult, I
can only try to calm you, but it will still be
unpleasant.”

“Is that what you’re doing when you
touch me—some sort of mood control?”

His eyes twinkle. “One of my many
talents.”

I just want to get this over with.
“Let’s begin, then, before I change my mind.”

“I must also warn you, we will be
starting with your very first life. When a soul is in its early
stages of evolution, it’s raw. Everyone begins with much more
negativity than positivity, but through difficulty and love, a soul
steadily increases its vibration.”

“Okay, you lost me. I think I need
my full consciousness just to absorb this conversation.” I squint.
“Evolution… like Darwin?”

“We call it evolution here because
it’s the best way to explain the process. Similar to evolution, the
soul is perpetually changing, and it takes many generations for
evolution to occur. You have to look at many lives to see its
progress.”

He pauses and studies my expression
to see if I absorbed that before continuing. “The speed of
evolution can be different for different souls. Isolation of a
population hastens this process, which is why so many souls
reincarnate in the same groups.”

“Groups?” I ask, but he keeps with
his line of thought as if reading some sort of invisible
manual.

“The greater the selective pressure
is on a soul, the quicker the evolution. This is why many souls
choose such tragic events but run the risk of suicide not being
able to withstand the despair that ensues. Some cautious souls
choose steadier lives at the risk of gradual change, while some may
actually regress. Not all evolution serves a purpose. There is no
formula for it.”

“Have you been in any of my lives?”
I don’t think I absorbed half of what he said.

He looks away, gaze pensive on the
waves. “I choose not to incarnate anymore.” He draws one side of
his closed mouth up and raises his eyebrows. “The evolution is
slower, but I can still learn from you—vicariously, of
course.”

“Why do people even do this at
all?”

“It is the only way we can become
part of the light.” He holds his slender hands up to the sky, where
the light is shining down all around, unlike the sun I was used
to—originating from one spot.

I hadn’t even realized I was
holding the arms of my chair so tight; I loosen my grip and wiggle
my fingers to ease their tension.

Zachariah continues, “When you
begin to reincarnate with some of the same people, there will be
things you subconsciously recognize—certain identifying features
they carry in every life.”

“Which features?”

“To start, everyone’s eyes stay
identical. Always the same shape, size, and color. There’s a
profound effect when you look into someone’s eyes that you have
known for centuries.” He taps a slender finger beside his jeweled
eye.

“What else?”

“They’re called beacons, and they
exist to guide you to certain souls.”

“I don’t understand.”

“In your first life, you will be
brand-new, as are many of the key people in that life—hence all the
chaos you will see. It’s never a pretty picture when you get a lot
of new souls together. In all the lives after, you will
subconsciously recognize these marks. These beacons will either
draw you in or repel you.”

“What kind of marks?”

“The first traumatic death a soul
experiences will stay with them. Where do you think you got that
spot on your left hand from?”

“Oh, right! My mole!” I pull my
hand in front of my face to see the mole I would never let the
dermatologists remove.

“It gives a whole new understanding
to the purpose of birthmarks, doesn’t it?”

“This is from my very first death?
What happened?”

“That you will have to see for
yourself.”

I stare at the spot, wondering how
something as small as this dot could be a past life’s downfall.
“Are there any other markers?”

“People can adapt more markers with
time, so you have to learn them as lives progress. Many personality
traits and mannerisms survive into the next life. They build upon
each other, and after many lives, you get some pretty interesting
characters.” He raises his eyebrows, probably referring to some of
the characters I’d left back in my last life. “Certain tastes and
interests follow you throughout each life, such as affinity for
certain foods, clothing, places, music, and even certain
objects—all creeping their way out of your
subconscious.”

I try to think of all my tastes and
how I might guess what my first life will be.

“So if I have to go back again, I
will at least have all my soul mates with me?”

He shakes his head, and I feel sick
again.

I don’t want to imagine a life
without Finn or Ellie.

“The incarnate group will keep
increasing for you. You might first start with only a few souls,
but with each additional life, more people will come in and out of
your group.”

“Out of your group? Do some
leave?”

“Not leave for good, but sometimes
some lives don’t incarnate together. It all depends on what the
soul has to work on and if it fits with your goals.”

No guarantees to
go back with the ones you loved the most.
“Okay, I think I’ve heard enough for now.” I raise my hands
in surrender. “Is there any way you can prepare me for what I’m
about to see?”

He shakes his head. “No, I’m sorry.
You have to see these lives as you experienced them to get the full
effect of the memory.”

I take a deep breath as though I’m
plunging into the ocean’s depths. “I’m ready to see my first
life.”

He leans closer to me, taking my
arm, and peers deep into my eyes. “Yes, I think you
are.”

First Life

Dream Magician

Chapter 1

Opening my eyes to darkness, I look
up to see stars filling the whole stretch of moonless sky. Large
stars twinkle and catch my eye, as small stars—white dust thrown
across the black—make me squint to see them. I focus back to ground
level, where I follow the rolling landscape of sand.

I stand fourth in a long line of
robed young men, all identical and standing in silence before the
Pyramid of Khufu with torches burning every few feet. Eight men
pull a massive rock from the temple entrance, straining and
grunting with the weight. Once the rock is moved halfway, two
priests emerge with torches and nod their bald heads toward us as
the first in line disappears; we all follow.

I should have
been first
.

The priests lead the way, chanting,
accompanied by double clarinet musicians slowly blowing a
snake-charmer melody as the cobra of our line follows obediently.
The passageway is narrow, and the air is stale. The temperature is
warmer inside the pyramid, a great relief since the thin robe helps
little in the desert cold. The priests remove another door.
Stepping up into a second corridor, I duck my head beneath the low
ceiling. We come into a chamber where a statue of Amun and four
other high priests stand. A priest takes the offerings the god Amun
had feasted on and serves the first boy in line wine from a golden
cup and white bread torn from the offering loaves. After he
partakes, he is sent ahead to another chamber.

When it is finally my turn, the
priest turns and asks, “You will loyally serve your gods and
goddesses under Ra and the Pharaoh?”

I recite, “I will, or the Pharaoh
take my life and Ra deny me afterlife.”

I drink and eat to fulfill the
initiation and step into an even lower-ceilinged passageway, where
I wait until I’m waved in. Three groups are stationed in the
queen’s chamber. Two naked boys stand beside open fires in front of
two groups. One tries to pull away from the priests who hold him,
screaming as the surgeon makes a quick movement.

Coward
.

I give no sign of hesitation as I
remove my robe and march toward the third station. This is the mark
of the priesthood and the highest act of purifying oneself. Each
priest takes an arm, and the surgeon kneeling before me brushes the
tip of my manhood with a tingling, brown liquid—the anesthetic. It
weakens me to receive it.