The 13th Descent: Book One of The Rosefire Trilogy (8 page)

“
So, the long and the short of it is as the Earth turned, time clicked on and this world and its inhabitants evolved, people started to group together based on their similarities, and their differences. Those of us watching from above first thought that humankind were following their animal instincts and backsliding, but we soon realised that seeing themselves in others reminded them of their part in the bigger picture. Reminded them of home, you know? But, it didn’t take long for these groups to section off and for the little piece of the earth they claimed for themselves to become their priority. That, and the importance they placed on their possessions, or lack of them, further sent their lights into shadow, and with it, their memories of home.

“
Souls arriving on Earth to offer their service to a divided world of increasing poverty, suffering, greed, and war ended up losing their light before it really had a chance to shine. Thankfully, some still remembered home, but the vast majority believed that the light was an unseen power they weren’t worthy of.

“
It didn’t take long for those with the resources and a thirst for power to figure out how to fuel this false belief to support their own agenda. They promoted that the light was real, but decreed that in order for a person to gain access to it, certain rules had to be followed. Some agreed to these conditions. Some changed them. And some decided to come up with their own.

“
The ugly face of fear had grown horns, but with it came new hope: hope that every man, woman and child had a shot at reaching the light. You were drawn to this hope, and that’s when you first came to us and said that you wanted to live as an Earthborn soul.”

Mike
stops playing with my fingers, lays back his head and stares up at the ceiling. “At first, he was the only one who agreed to go with you,” he utters, quickly brushing away a tear he thinks I didn’t see.

Baffled,
I ungraciously blurt out, “Why are you crying?”

He
stills.

I prod.
“Mike?”

He closes his eyes,
takes a deep breath and says, “The rest of us thought it was hopeless. But Joshua didn’t. He believed, as much as you did, that with a bit of help, humankind could find their way out of the darkness.”

“Josh
ua? As in Joshua, Shoshanna’s husband?” I ask.

With a blank expression, he
slowly nods.

Mental pictures
of my first life as Shoshanna are, by far, the faintest, but coursing through their blurry lines are powerful emotions, both dark and light. Not knowing, unsure if I want to, but desperately needing to, my question typically spew’s forward unchecked. “So, is that a happy or a sad tear?”

“Honestly,
Ren, it’s a bit of both,” he unflinchingly answers as his gaze shifts down to my mouth. His eyes stay fixed on my lips as his face slowly leans into mine. His mouth gets so close to my own, I can breathe in his long, minty exhale.

Oh, God…f
or the second time in as many days, it is happening again: I am petrified stiff, my face is on fire and the blaze is rapidly travelling south. I am terrified that any move I make in consent: which my body desperately wants to give, or retreat: which my head is half-heartedly rooting for, will be graceless and awkward, and one way or the other will completely change everything. A nauseating, squeaky little voice riding on the mother of all butterfly’s warns me that it will be for the worst.

I
try to look away to give myself a few palpitating heartbeats to figure this out, but even my eyeballs are locked in place. But then I see the end of my nose, and I quickly realise that, to him, I must look cross eyed. This is mortifyingly enough to break my stare, but not the spell as I grow limp and heavy, falling back into another time, another world: straight into a tangled web of hot breath and limbs, blissfully unsure of where Mike ends and I begin.

Disappointed, I groan as m
y focus shifts to the soft, leather couch cushions beneath me, but I soon perk up when I see my shining Archangel-man hovering over me. But I can’t understand why I can no longer feel weight, his need or the wetness of his kiss.

“
Ren?” he whispers, his warm breath brushing across my cheek.

“Mmmm?”
Still floating, I keep my eyes closed.

“Are you still with me?” he softly asks.

I always have been. I always will be…

“Ren?”
he whispers again.

“Yes.”

“Are you awake?”

“Yes
.”

“Good. You had me worried.”

“What? Why?” I ask, throwing my eyes open.

“
Um…because you fainted.”

“I…
what?”

“
You fainted,” he repeats, frowning. He gently places his palm over my forehead and searches my face like he’s looking for ten different kinds of crazy.

“Oh.” I
say, staring up over his head, desperately trying to figure out if all that sweating, moaning and groaning was a dream or a memory, all the while praying that I wasn’t experiencing it out loud.

“Ren, are you
OK?” he asks as his hand moves to his own forehead. He is berating himself and I’m not sure way.

“You’re upset. Why?”
I ask.

“
You’re overwhelmed. Obviously, I’ve said too much. I’m pushing too hard,” he says.

I
baulk and choke on my own saliva. Coughing and spluttering, I beg for the Earth to open up and swallow me whole.

“Nooooo, you’re not,” I embarrassingly overemphasis. He still looks sceptical. “I’m fine, really,” I attempt to calmly say, still feeling the twinge in places his words were only partly responsible for.

I
have felt crippling emotion before; both devastation and joy that have brought me to my knees, but I’ve managed to stay conscious. But since finding out about Mum being alive, I have fainted twice: both times when remembering an experience that filled me with so much emotion, it somehow overflowed and drowned out my consciousness.

Strong and ready? My arse.
It seems that now my ‘mind is open,’ I am a vulnerable wuss who is prone to swooning. A delicate rose. Ugh…

But
, if that was a dream I was having during that recent check-out, it was the most passionate I can ever recall having. And if it was a memory, it is the most connected to someone I have ever felt.

I’
m not sure of what my face is relaying, but it is enough to send Mike hurrying off to the kitchen to get us both a cool glass of water. He helps me sit up, and as I gratefully take a few small sips, he gently rubs my back. “Better?” he softly asks.

“Much,” I answer,
looking over at the clock. Now I am fully conscious and my thirst is quenched, my curiosity is back with a vengeance. “We’ve still got a bit of time, you know,” I eagerly point out.

“Yeah? You
sure?” Mike asks, surprised.

I
impatiently nod.

He quickly looks me over.
“Well, OK then,” he says, seemingly convinced, as he sits back and invites me to once again settle into the crook of his arm.

Just l
ike there was no sharing of breath, blissful fainting and hot-blooded I-don’t-know-what’s only minutes ago, it’s straight back to playing with my fingers and telling ghost stories. He thoughtfully resumes, “You know, Ren, one of the brightest lights imaginable is a love born in Heaven that is rediscovered on Earth. And, when Shoshanna found her twin soul on Earth, their conjoined lights could be seen from worlds away.”

I look forward to remembering
what it’s like to look into the eyes of my other half and see the best part of me looking back. I look forward to remembering what I had with this man, Joshua, my husband and the father of my first Earthborn child, to relive the love we shared and to see if it faintly resembles the shaky notion of true love I am clinging to now.

“So,
shortly after you and Joshua left for Earth and the rest of us decided to follow, we all chose to be born into families who remembered-”  

“
How many is ‘we’?” I ask.

“
The first time, there ended up being nine of us.”

“
Nine, including you, me and Joshua?”

“Yep.”

“So, that leaves six others.”

“That’s right.”

“Who are…?”

“
Four were on the boat with us.”

“Four?
I thought there was only three.”

“You were pregnant.”

“Right,” I acquiesce. “So, who are the two others?”

“I
’ll get to that.”

Frustrated, I humph and cross my arms.

“Patience, Ren,” he firmly reminds me.

“Yeah. Yeah. I know
,” I snap. I’m more annoyed at myself for postponing Q and A time in the first place.

Taking my grumpiness in his stride,
he continues. “Like I was saying, all nine of us chose to be born into families who remembered, and with all of us being raised in love and light, during the times we were all together, we didn’t need to convince anyone. Anyone with eyes could see it. Anyone with a heart could feel it.”

“See
…feel what?” I ask.

“
Home,” he simply answers and continues. “You and Joshua chose to be born into separate royal houses where you could be taught by priests and priestesses in both the ancient ways and the ways of the time, so you could help reconnect all Earthborn souls to their origins, as well as being a living example of the balance humankind was fast losing its understanding of. And, when the time came for the two of you to share yourselves with the world, you were both so enlightened, those who listened soon found themselves remembering home too.

“Word of a good thing always spreads fast, and crowds from far and wide came to hear the two of you speak.” He chuckles. “You soon ended up with a small band of groupies who followed you from place to place, and it didn’t take us long to adopt them as family. As if we had a choice,” he says, smiling and shaking his head. “They were keen students and we shared with them all we knew, and with their help, many souls began to find their way out of the darkness. This brought about change: change that started to even the balance and threaten the Master’s control.” His face grows solemn and he repositions himself so he is facing me. “And what would be the quickest and easiest way for the Masters to fix this growing problem of theirs, Ren?” he asks, testing to see if I remember the worst of it.

S
adly, I do know the answer. “Execution,” I growl.

“Yes. A very
long and public one. And it worked for the most part too. Fear sent some into hiding, but most went straight back into the shadows.” He shifts in his seat and stares off into the distance. “But before the Masters had Joshua taken away to be executed, we all agreed that in order to protect you, your unborn child, and our friends and family who had escaped prosecution, we had to leave our homeland and quick.

“
Ari’s wealth bought us a boat and for those manning the coastline to look the other way.  The five of us and your unborn child made it across the Mediterranean Sea and settled in a foreign but friendly land under the protection of Ari’s friends. For a while, we lived in peace, until we received word from our homeland that the Masters were still trying to find you; to find all of us. So, our small group separated, and travelled the world helping the lost.”

He
pauses, inhales deeply and continues, “Over the years that followed, most of our loved ones were hunted down and tortured, but they all stayed silent, keeping you safe. When the Masters realised that they might never find you, they decided that the only way to end you once and for all was to drag your name through the mud-”

Aunt Romey
’s history lesson has already taught me the next bit. “And turned my truth into a dirty lie,” I seethe.

“That’s right
. As well as the truth of all those who came after you,” he adds.

After a long contemplative pause, I ask him, “How
many Roses have there been?”

“
There is a birth every generation. And, every Rose is born with memories of where evidence of truth can be found,” he says and stops, no doubt waiting for something to spark.

I
t doesn’t. Both my brain and my mouth fall slack.

His
patient smile reassures me that it’s alright, but we still sit quietly for a bit longer before he throws me another bone. “What remains of Shoshanna, Joshua and your descendants can only be found through the collective memories of three living Roses,” he says.

“Bones,” I thoughtfully mumble.

“What was that?” he asks.

“Remains
?” I clarify louder.

He answers me with a
slow nod.

He
can see the cogs are turning, so he leaves me be. I smile, fully understanding why he gives me a titbit to help lead me into remembering the rest. Hearing about what went on is one thing, but seeing it, feeling it, experiencing it...that is something else entirely.