Prologue: Before and Before and Before…
The wood panels of the old church floor creaked. With every step the priest took, his bones and the floor moaned in one accord. When he reached the end of the long corridor, instead of opening the door to his office, he let himself lean on his walking stick. The stick was shaped like a tree branch twisted into lean, painfully beautiful knots. It was much older than he. It had seen many more things than he had. The ornate carvings on it held secrets that he would never know. Mysteries of the universe not meant to be uncovered just yet. Not by him anyway. He knew that the time for revelation was coming. He felt it as he stood in the cold, quiet, long forgotten basilica.
As he stood, barely breathing, anticipation for his visitor to arrive began to overcome him. He felt old. He had been here a long time, waiting for the last portions of his purpose to be fulfilled. He felt his sense of peace shift with the unfamiliar sensation of nervousness. He knew what was happening around him was beyond his control. He knew that once the procession began, the world as he’d seen it for so many years would finally spiral beyond anyone’s understanding. He knew all these things and yet, he hadn’t fully grasped the magnitude of what was happening. His impending visitor was a universal marker of the kind of progress no one speaks of in polite company. Or any company. The wait was brutal. Eons long. His very bones exhaled when he felt Tanzin’s presence.
“Osho Lovianhal friend.” The Priest’s voice was almost a whisper.
“Osho Lovian Osho.”
Tanzin didn’t bother with a bow. These two were long past formalities.
“The years you have been here are beginning to show Priest. Soon, you will be able to hang up those old bones and transition like the rest of us.” Tanzin said.
Tanzin sounded matter-of-fact, but they both knew his statement was an attempt at humor. Neither of them laughed.
“Yes… old friend. I’ve been here a long time. And yet, I’ve always enjoyed my work. Just this one last thing to do. Of course, I don’t have the easy job you have.” The Priest chuckled awkwardly and then cleared his throat with a cough that sounded painful. “I’ll assume things are on divine schedule.”
“The child will arrive within days.”
The Priest breathed out the loud sigh of relief that follows the weary before they speak. He refused to contain his inner celebration. He clapped clumsily, balancing his left elbow on his walking stick.
“That is good news! Her surrogates? The Third? They’ve all been chosen?”
“It is so. No detail has been left to chance. We have all waited too long to do things less than what has been written.” Tanzin said.
The Priest sighed again. He realized in the moment just how tired he was. His voice crackled like embers in an ancient fire.
“Soon… soon.” He said. “This old, forgotten church will bustle with activity again.” His voice trailed off into his thoughts.
“Yes.” Tanzin said. “It will. We must remember that there are some things that will manifest that we cannot know or prepare for. The child may not do all that she is capable. She may not—“
The Priest interrupted Tanzin with his raspy chuckle.
“–No child does as his parents expect. But they always do what they came to. This child will do much more than that. She will change everything. Our only charge is to see that she is prepared and protected. The child, when ready, will do the rest. Isn’t that what we’ve waited all this time for?”
Tanzin nodded.
“You were always wise, Priest. I can think of no other still on The Earth plane worthy of the job you face. I bid you blessings and look forward to having you with us soon. Osho Lovianhal.”
“Yes, Tanzin. Osho Lovian Osho.”
Before The Priest could re-adjust himself on his walking stick, his visitor was gone. The Priest was moved to tears of joy, sadness, frustration and knowing. Soon, he thought, soon…
