Paradox Love: Paradox Love Book 1 (15 page)

Grace perked up.  She was not yet a citizen of Castellans.  They said she was still in Earth consciousness and therefore a citizen of Earth.  Abigail was continuing her explanation.

“A citizen of Earth, who has no knowledge of worlds beyond their own may have the perception someone they encounter on Earth is the their soul mate.  And I suppose that while they exist in Earth consciousness, that would be their reality.”

This was the sort of a mind bending philosophical lesson that Grace had once looked forward to having in college.  But the concept she clung to as a result was that free will was about creating your own reality. That was exactly what it was about.  Abigail continued.

“And that, no doubt, is why you’re having such a difficult time, Grace.  It’s why Gabe tried so hard to get you to move on.  In a sense, he was trying to save you from yourself, from a greater, inevitable disappointment.  Because, Grace, it is a
temporary
reality.”

She was only half listening now.  Ever since she’d come to Castellans, she been asserting her free will.  She’d been working to create her own reality.  She wasn’t giving up now.

“Can I ask another question?”

“Yes, of course.”

“If I ask you for the key and you refuse, does that denial of my free will cause you to regress?”

“It does.”

Grace’s heart thudded.

“Then why would you do it?  You’re at the top, Senior Chancellor of the Council of Five.  What could be worth risking that?”

“Well, being as I am at the top, so to speak, I have the most wiggle room, haven’t I?”

“You mean in terms of like a fall-back cushion?  Because you have the most experience, you would not be impacted as much by a regression?”

“Yes, Grace.”

“And is that why you have the key and Gabe does not?  You’re protecting him?”

“I am.”

The puzzle pieces were finally fitting together.  And Grace’s plan for creating her own reality was crumbling. 

“Obviously you have a reason to protect him.”

“I do.”

“And I’m no citizen of Castellans, so I will not be told.”

“You won’t.”

That was it then.  Grace could not continue to ask Gabe for the key.  Not only was it no longer in his possession, but she now realized that to ask him for it would be extraordinarily selfish.  After everything he’d done for her,
she
owed
him
.  She also knew that Abigail would not be wavering.  And she was out of ideas.

“I’m sorry, Grace.  When you left Earth, you should have been leaving behind every ounce of heartbreak and regret.  Gabe tried to help you let go.  He did his best.”

“I know.”

They sat a moment in the silence.  There wasn’t much more to say.

“So that it’s it then?”

“I know you’re disheartened, but you really do have so much to look forward to.”

Grace nodded.

“What’s next?”

“A door will be open in your corridor.  Step through it and into your assessment.  That’s all you have to do.”

Abigail stretched out her hand and placed it on Grace’s.

“We’ve known each other a very long time, Grace.  You can trust me.  I wouldn’t deceive you.”

“Thank you.”

Abigail looked to the chambers door, which opened in response to her attention upon it.

“I will see you at your retreat,” Abigail smiled.

Again, Grace nodded silently and walked toward the open door.  She took a deep breath as she stepped out into the corridor. She was in the center of the long hall, with Gabe’s office to her left, the transference room to her right.  The door adjacent to Gabe’s office was slightly ajar, beckoning her. 

She could not see inside.  She didn’t want to see.  She was afraid that the simple act of peeking would imply a commitment.  And she wasn’t ready.  Yes, it was inevitable.  Yes, she’d lost the battle.  Yes, it was time to let go.  And yet, she could not. 

A new rush of questions was buzzing in her head, all too late to ask.  If Luke lived on another world and they were not soul mates, how did she know he was still alive on Earth?  And why was she confident that she would feel it, she would know precisely the moment that he’d moved on?

She could not bring herself to move.  She could not tell how many moments were passing as she stared at the door to her assessment and back again to the transference room.  No options remained.  Whatever free will she’d once exerted had been drained away. 

They called this a reception hall, but at the moment, it was a prison, a shiny white prison.  She looked down at her pajamas.  They could easily be Castellans’ version of jailhouse garb. 

A final internal battle was taking her back and forth between acceptance and anger.  The emotions were all happening out of order and now denial was seeping in.  For the briefest time, she indulged in it, in denial.  But two dark partners were winning the argument within: sadness and defeat. 

She took a few tentative steps toward the open door.  She kept telling herself the same things she’d heard from everyone here before.  The answers would come.  Peace would come.  Everything would make sense.  But when it came from a well meaning source, she hated being told what to do.  She stopped in the center of the corridor.

Once she walked through that door, it was all over.  The thought was terrifying.  She took a step back.  She pictured Luke standing here instead of her.  She pictured a role reversal, him being here and she being the one on Earth.  What would he do if he were here instead?  One thing was certain.  He would not be walking through that door.  No way.  She looked toward the transference room door. 
That
was the goalpost.  This door, this door right over here that was standing open, that was a fumble waiting to happen. 

She took another step away.  And with that, she turned her back on the open door and all that awaited her, walking the long distance to the other end of the hall.  The transference room door was sealed.  She lowered herself against the wall and sat on the floor, her head down on her folded arms. 

This place – this place next to this door on Castellans was as close as she was ever going to get to him again.  They’d taken away whatever chance remained.  She accepted that.  They’d won.  But they were going to have to wait a little longer for her to walk through that door.  Luke was on Earth.  She could feel it.  And nobody on Castellans was budging her from this spot until she felt him leave.  This tiny little connection to him was all there was now.  Just the knowing.  And she was going to honor that for every single moment that remained.

* * * * *

The ocean air rolling over the back porch of his seaside home, Gabe sat in the large rocking chair, his eyes on the surf.  As a citizen of Castellans, he had the privilege of living in a home of his own creation in whatever setting he chose.  And because Grace loved the sea, that is where they always returned.  To this place, steps to the water.  The windows were perpetually open, the salt air continuously breezing through.  They’d spent centuries here together. 

He smiled at the memories and the moments.  This house held echoes of laughter, conversations that lasted days and elaborate planning for future adventures.  Sometimes no words were spoken at all as they stretched out in the sand, gazing up toward the star filled night sky.  This was their sanctuary. 

They should have been celebrating now.  Grace was the last of a million souls to return home to Castellans.  Their world was ascending.  It was a hard fought milestone, paid for with the experience and suffering of millions of lifetimes.  He’d waited for her with more expectation than ever before.  Every soul on Castellans was waiting, were
still
waiting.

The ironies were not lost on him.  Grace’s last life on Earth as a human was spent as a girl carefully observant of the rules.  She’d been given those personality traits, undoubtedly because she needed to learn some balance, needed to exercise some moderation. 

When not in Earth consciousness, she was not so keen on rules.  She broke them when it pleased her, when there was something she wanted, something more important, to her mind, than advancing her education. 

Gabe was her enabler.  He couldn’t help himself.  Her happiness was his greatest joy.  It was also his greatest downfall.  When she needed rescuing, he was there.  Had been since the day they were born.  He smiled again.  How little things had changed!  The smile disappeared as he tried to ignore the uneasy ache in his heart. 

Abigail had advised over and over, “It’s for her own good.  She’ll thank you.”

That was no comfort. 

A citizen of Castellans owes his allegiance to his people.  He is bound to honor their free will above all else.  But no such oath is greater than to one’s soul mate.  So engrained is this commitment that the act of saying no itself becomes for some, physically impossible.

He’d said no to her for the first time ever. 
Ever
.  He took a deep breath and kept his eyes on the blue horizon.  Yes, it was a little different.  He’d said no to her as a citizen of Earth and not of Castellans.  At first, this fact alone seemed to help blunt the injustice.  But the longer it continued, the worse it became.  Inwardly, he battled between the pain of depriving her what she wished for and the pain of being without her.

Grace was on this world, but she may as well have been on another.  There was a sickness in his gut he’d never experienced before.  A citizen of Castellans rarely knew sadness or regret.  Yet he felt both emotions with the intensity of a building storm.

He did not care that he’d forfeited a place on the Council of Five, that he was always at the bottom of the pack.  That’s where she was and that is where he chose to be.  They’d teetered there perpetually, testing the boundaries and abandoning advancement for the exhilaration of adventure.

But this newest event was unlike the rest.  Grace was fixated and immovable.  Her emotional attachment to this soul from another world was unprecedented.  He wanted to help her work through it, to get over what could only be seen as a final, insignificant hurdle.                There was no jealousy.  He and Grace were inextricably bound, forever fused as equal halves to one flame. 

In her most current lifetime, she’d existed on Earth for seventeen years.  Seventeen years plucked as a sampling out of millions was less than miniscule, a droplet of water in an ever flowing stream.  It was nothing.  And yet, at this moment, it was everything.  That one droplet was enough to halt the progress of a million souls. 

He was intimately attuned to Grace’s emotional state, which at this moment, was predominately ruled by a paralyzing sense of hopelessness.  He rocked in his chair and concentrated on the white crests and the melodic sounds of the breaking waves, but he could not distract himself from the growing sickness in his belly.  This would not do.  It simply would not.

Every returning soul to Castellans must step through the doors to their assessment of their own free will and without the taint of influence by another living soul.  He could not tell her anything other than what he already had.  Doing so would in and of itself, strip her of her free will.  If she knew everything, of course she would go to her assessment.  Of course she would forget all of this.  Of course she would leave Luke behind. 

He could not tell her.  And even if it were possible, he wouldn’t do it.  Even now, even on the brink of all that would befall them, he would not trade Grace’s desires for those of all of Castellans.  When faced with that choice, it would always be her.

He rose from the chair and walked into the house, through the living space to the desk they kept in the corner of the bedroom.  He pulled a sheet of paper from the drawer and scribbled down a line of words, placing a seashell over the note as a paperweight.  Then he walked to the back of the house and out on the porch again, briefly taking in the view one more time.  He loved this place, but the celebration would have to wait. 

He’d made his decision.  To give Grace what she needed, he was prepared to accept a regression equal to the denial of free will to one million souls, of every soul on his world.  Yet even with the prospect of that colossal debt, the sickening feeling of conflict was gone.  He walked to the front of the house and stepped out the door.  He left with not a frown upon his face, but an actual smile.  Yes, he’d pay the price.  Of course he would pay.  And perhaps it would be worth it in exchange for their greatest adventure yet.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Abigail was a city girl.  She liked the hustle and bustle.  She liked the noise.  She enjoyed the smells wafting out of restaurants.  She drank her coffee each morning on the balcony of her high-rise apartment, to the sound of honking cabs and purring traffic.  She’d always been a go-getter and she could not conjure an environment more conducive than the fast pace of a living city.

She had been born as a single flame, her combustion so powerful that it had propelled her well beyond the birth journey of any soul on Castellans.  She knew it was a blessing and a curse.  She was an overachiever.  She expected a lot from herself.  She knew that her life experiences of late had been exercises to work on her weakness.  And that weakness was an expectation that everyone else should work as hard as she did. 

During her last time on Earth, she had become a mother with just that conviction.  She was driven and she wanted her children to be equally driven.  She’d been too critical, too persistent in her wishes that her daughter push herself to the breaking point for the sake of this or that achievement. 

In the end, it had cost her dearly.  Unable to sustain the constant stream of her mother’s criticism, Abigail’s daughter eventually withdrew from her, until by the time of Abigail’s death, the two were not even speaking. 

She knew that she would continue to be presented with situations that would help her to let go of her consuming need to drive others to achieve.  It was clear that her friendship with Gabriel was also in part designed to address this weakness. 

He was easily as accomplished as herself.  And yet, he had no difficulty whatsoever in forfeiting the benefits of his achievements.  In fact, he seemed to delight in thwarting advancement in exchange for the simple pleasure of seeing to Grace’s happiness.  For ages, it had irked and befuddled Abigail.  His indifference to his own growth was the epitome of foolishness. 

There were times when her frustration had her feeling that she needed to save Gabe from himself.  There were times that she simply felt that she knew better than he what was good for him.  And this latest situation was a prime example.  Once again, she was playing that role, protecting him from his own foolhardy decisions.

Yet, over lifetimes of experiences, she was learning, ever so slowly, to loosen her vice grip, to lighten the heavy loads she bore herself and had placed on others.  It was still difficult, so very difficult. 

Sitting in her favorite spot high above the city sipping her coffee, she knew that he would be arriving soon.  Before her, the key to the transference room sat on the table.  She took a slow deep breath and held it before letting it out again.  She was about to face a difficult test.

The doorbell rang.  She walked through her apartment, its ultra modern décor a reflection of her love of refinement, yet simplicity.  Clean lines and sleek surfaces were seen in all directions. 

She opened the door and Gabe entered.  Without a word, he followed her to her kitchen, where she poured him a coffee before they both headed for the balcony.  Gabe made his way around the table, past several potted blue hydrangeas.  They were Abigail’s favorite.

It was clear by the placement of the key that she’d made her decision.  He took his seat and smiled at her.

“I wondered at times if it would ever come to this,” he said as he placed his coffee on the table.

“I think I worried over it more than you, Gabriel.”

He smiled.

“I’m sorry I’ve caused you such grief.”

She took a drink and rested her cup in her hand.

“You know, Gabriel, there have been times I envied you.  I used to think you were crazy,” she smiled back at him, “reckless with your supreme right.  Not using it for any noble purpose.  I couldn’t understand why you would not join me on the Council.  Why instead you chose to take your lumps, unnecessary lumps.  Your sideways trips and backward steps.  I never understood it.  And yet I could see your enjoyment in every moment.  You made no apologies for your choices. 

You lived for the sake of living.  For the joy of it.  For
her
joy.  I have to say I’ve had a hard time doing that.  Purpose of living is my obsession.  And I have pursued it to such a degree that I’ve often experienced not the slightest joy in living.  In seeking my greatest potential, I’ve overlooked all the good parts.”

He could have guessed every word she’d just said before she said it.  They were eternal friends.  He knew her struggles.  She knew his.  And true friends loved you through your struggles, loved you more because of your struggles.

“You’re too hard on yourself, Abigail.  And besides, you’ve got plenty of time.  We both do.”

“That we have eternity is one thing, Gabriel.  But how we choose to spend it, that is entirely another.  I don’t know if you can understand just how much I’m going to miss you.”

Well now, she
did
know him, didn’t she?  Another smile and this time the slightest pink in his cheeks.

“I have to go with her this time.”

“I know.  You’ll be vulnerable.”

Abigail looked to the key.  She thought about snatching it from the table and jumping off the balcony to fly away with it to another end of their world.  He could see her mind working.

“Been a while since you exercised your wings, Abby.” 

He half expected her to do just what she had in mind.  And Abigail was fast.  Faster than him.  If she wanted to do it, he’d never catch her.  She reached for the key, her hand on it before he had time to react.  She kept her eyes upon it and then, she moved it closer to him before slowly retrieving her hand.

“Too often I’ve feared the end.  Too often I’ve set myself up to meet deadlines, created self imposed punishments for my failures.  I need to learn to relax.”  She lifted her hand from the key.  “Now, pick it up, Gabriel.  Pick it up before I change my mind.”

He decided it was best to do as she suggested.

“Thank you, Abby.”

“My pleasure.” 

“It’s not your burden, you know.  It’s mine.”

“Yes, and I have released it to you,” she replied. 

And although her heart was suffering from the pain of both the letting go and the realization of the sorrow to come, Abigail was blessed with the release of the burden. 

Gabe had never asked her to carry the load.  She’d taken it up, because she could not stand to see him fail.  And now, finally, she was surrendering her need to have him take a path of her choosing.  They sat together a little longer, drinking their coffee before he rose to say goodbye.

* * * * *

Abigail stood at her balcony and watched Gabe exit the building and walk down the street.  She didn’t understand why he chose to walk so much when there were far superior modes of transportation. 

She looked out over the city, pondering the wonder of their magnificent world.  Castellans, as all words, was home to imperfect beings. 
Most
were striving toward ultimate perfection. 
All
were on the journey.  Yet with each new advancement came a slew of new challenges. 

They had begun as a fledgling world of newborn souls.  As such, they began at Earth school as very primitive forms of life.  Millions of experiences and what might be termed lowly existences were necessary.  It was all education.  It was all progress. 

The million souls on Castellans might be experiencing life on Earth as colonies of ants, for example.  And for a millennia, that would be the reality for every one of them.  In due time, they would have learned enough, progressed enough to earn their next ascension.

One such ascension produced a celebration as had never been seen on their world, for all citizens of Castellans had ascended from countless lifetimes on Earth spent as ants.  For the next level of education, they would experience life as caterpillars, each aspiring to achieve the noble goal of transformation to a butterfly.  Their world had exploded with renewed excitement at the news. 

Some ascensions were modest and some were extraordinary.  All were celebrated.  And the time for celebration had returned.  Having spent countless lifetimes experiencing Earth life as human beings, Castellans had advanced to the point of an ascension which would change the nature of their educations for all time.  For Abigail, it was of particular significance. 

It was as Pietra had described to Grace.  Earth was vastly populated by zombies, human beings spending lifetimes very much haphazardly and without direction.  They were immersed in only the material, never questioning nor pondering the nature of their existence. 

For the souls of Castellans, the coming ascension meant that going forward, their world would not produce a single zombie born into life on Earth.  Each soul of Castellans would travel to Earth to discover his or her purpose and spend their lives pursuing it.  The advancement was their most pivotal yet.  Their world had the potential to change the Earth, to help all souls living on Earth and all those to come. 

Anticipation of the pending ascension had begun to grow as fewer and fewer souls were being sent to Earth of late.  Careful observers knew from past history that such a pattern indicated an impending ascension. 

Not all were privy to the fact that Grace was the final soul.  But those who knew awaited her return with great anticipation.  When she did not appear for her retreat, more rumors began.  Some were concerned, however, many were not the least bit troubled.  These ones were of the mind that time allows for all possibilities, that there are no deadlines. 

But even if there were only a few at this time who declared themselves offended, it was enough to cost Gabe.  The laws of regression were precise, yet mysterious.  Penalties were not carried out by the citizens of Castellans, but by the force of universal law.  A penalty was equal in measure to the offense.  The price was always regression, for a soul to be subject to more experience on Earth. 

Unfortunately, Gabe's pending regression was not Abigail’s most immediate concern.  The most pressing matter at hand was the fact that his regressive state would leave him vulnerable when he went through transference to be reborn on Earth. 

A vulnerable soul was a target – a target of beings from other worlds, darker worlds.  The people of Castellans commonly referred to these beings as roaches.  Roaches were viscous, their modes of attack merciless. 

Swarms of roaches prowled space for souls making their way to Earth.  Less advanced worlds were easy targets.  It was only after eons of trial and error that the souls of Castellans had learned to combat and defeat roaches in battle.  Brigades of Castellans fighters had for ages guarded souls as they made their journey of transference. 

However, no longer finding easy victims on Castellans, the roaches mostly abandoned Castellans for easier pickings on other worlds.

Abigail was a practical soul, not one for taking chances.  Realizing that Gabe would be susceptible to attack when he accompanied Grace back to Earth, she knew he was going to need protection.  She scanned the city again from her high vantage point.  Then she looked to her right and her left to be certain she had enough space before summoning her wings. 

The manifestation of desires on Castellans was also a learned skill.  The power of intention was key.  Most had become quite proficient.  Abigail was a master.  She watched her wings stretch forth on either side, as each glorious layer of feathers fell out upon next.  Then she arched them toward the sky, as they lifted her from the balcony and over the city.

Her destination was Castle Recchia, in a territory of Castellans inhabited by the members of the Obsidian Order.  They were the guardians of Castellans, the warriors who had for ages protected its citizens from roach attacks. 

Abigail surveyed her world below her as she flew east.  Viewing Castellans from the sky was a treat for the senses.  The vast array of living environments was a testament to the diversity of their world and its people, as they manifested their desires to create their surroundings. 

Some territories were blanketed with thick green fields and moss colored trees, the homes of its residents camouflaged by like colored thatched roofs.  Other communities boasted striking palaces dotted between frozen lakes.  Still others were tropical in setting.  Residents enjoyed a balmy warmth and crystal blue seas.  And in some of these places, daytime never fell to the darkness of night.  Every day, all day, was summertime.

Finally, the terrain changed and Abigail took in the scents of a forest beneath her.  This majestic land was home to the Obsidian Order and to its mammoth Castle Recchia, which to the casual eye might be very easily mistaken for a mountain itself.  The mortar used to forge each brick was a brown to match the color of earth.  And nearly every square inch of the castle was wrapped in tendrils and vines.   

Indeed, it rivaled the size of the mountains around it, rising up beyond the tallest of trees.  And even where the castle itself ended, multitudes of towers rose up still further, peaking to pierce the lowest sitting clouds.

Abigail took care to avoid obstacles as she slowly descended.  There were many entrances, but all were nondescript.  If you didn’t know where to look, you’d never find a door.