Remembrance – Part 10
Note to Readers: This story is from the time I, Sundeelia, was a Sirian. The young man who figures as the main character of the story was my eldest son, Aman Gia, a priest. For those who have not yet read the beginning of this story, please see the page “Remembrance” with links to all ten related articles:
“In a Pool of Golden Light” by Cmdr. Sundeelia VaCoupe
The young man was sunk deep into a meditative state. He was sitting on the floor with his legs crossed. A shaft of light illuminated his pale features in golden light. He was dressed in a simple short woven brown robe, with loose white trousers, a white loose shirt beneath his open robe. Head bent in thought, one gold earring glinted from his left ear, peeking from beneath his white blonde shoulder-length hair. His long slender feet were bare, a gesture of humility as he sought to clear his mind of the emotions that arose from his last meeting with his oft-absent father, the head commander of the Sirian Fleet.
He fought to suppress the anger and frustration that seemed to rise up like a snake whenever he confronted his father. Ironically, he was tired of feeling this way and so he sought to reach deep into the depths of his being, seeking out the gate to the sacred space that his mentors spoke of with great awe.
Like a drowning man, he sunk deeper into meditation, breathing slowly, his consciousness gradually losing touch with his physical surroundings… the towering hall outside the smaller side chapel, the massive golden columns, the sweet smoky scent of incense…the distant chimes marking the hour…the soft repetitive chants of pilgrims who were visiting the great Temple. Gradually, a golden light surrounded the focus of his awareness and carried his attention beyond his body, out into the skies above the vast city, and beyond. He floated in a pool of light surrounding his light body, bathing him in warmth like a mother’s love, filling with strength from the divine essence of the Father.
His consciousness was guided on by unseen guides until he floated above Sirian space. He could see all the worlds, the great central sun of Sirius A, his own home isle; the smaller solar presence of Osiris (Sirius B) and beyond Ganat (Sirius C) the smallest of the solar isles. Like tiny pearls, the lesser isles and moons followed their great stars like glittering necklaces.
As he gazed upon the sight, his attention was drawn by flashes of light and the feeling of grave danger; a battle was taking place on the periphery of the system. His father’s fleet was engaged in yet another confrontation with their relentless enemy from the lower Orion system.
In his neutral state of observation, he wondered what he could do to assist his father and the many sons of Sirius who fought these battles day after day. He admitted to himself that his father was right; he wasn’t suited for war, but as a Son of Light, he could accomplish something. He could feel the surety of this knowledge within his entire being; there had to be a way. He knew it, just knew it.
Feeling the slight but insistent tug upon his silver cord, Aman hesitated for a moment, gazing upon the star system, the home that he loved. And then he let go and swiftly returned to his body that was slumped over in the quiet chapel. For a moment he kept his eyes closed, relishing the visions he had just experienced within his meditation, and then breathing out a deep sigh, he opened his green eyes and looked around.
In the middle of the night, Aman awoke from a disturbed sleep to see a golden figure standing at the foot of his bed in his modest quarters. He sat up and watched the golden fingers of the figure draw geometric shapes in the air, the patterns remaining visible for a few moments and then disappearing. Then, the shapes reversed upon themselves. A few minutes later, the shapes reversed yet again. Aman recognized a pattern, a rhythm to the process. It was an oscillation forcefield…would that be sufficient to protect their worlds? How could it be reproduced to be large enough to encompass the entire Sirian star system? The nameless figure smiled and pointed to its own heart and made a circle with its hand that lingered in the air as the figure itself disappeared into the gloom.
In the morning, Aman was impatient to complete his priestly duties so he could visit his grandfather, Lord Chananda, who he regarded as one of the most intelligent and compassionate individuals in Sirius. He often visited his grandfather, sometimes to confess his confusion over his father’s activities in the fleet. Lord Chananda always simply looked deep into his eyes and stated, “Your father is doing what he is here for…”
This time he was excited to have something else to speak of with his grandfather. Late in the afternoon, he was finally released from his last duty and headed down the hill from the great Temple where he served towards the House of the Ancient of Days, where the head of the Gia Family resided. Lord Chananda, as a Son of Krishna, resided in the vast complex in a comfortable dwelling filled with several generations of Gia family members. He enjoyed spending time in his personal gardens when he was not attending official events and duties; however, today, the Lord was not present in the fragrant garden. A servant told Aman that his grandfather was attending a gathering of dignitaries in the great hall of the House. Disappointed, Aman nevertheless headed in that direction, first making a stop at his own quarters that he used when visiting to change into more suitable garments. The court was very particular about their dress. Everyone save his own father, Commander Delos, obeyed these strict rules and protocols. Delos seemed to follow his own inner piper and continued to dress simply when off-duty, primarily in white garments that were more suitable to a working man. Aman found that particular trait in his father to be particularly irritating, feeling that it was an insult to his mother, the lady Anya. Still, the source of the chronic irritation was far from his consciousness today; he wanted to share his vision with Grandfather…
Following a long gallery above the great Court, Aman joined his uncle Jychrondria and aunt Reynea, the two of them observing the audience taking place below. These relatives were actually related to the first lifetime of Lord Delos, but both being long-lived were still present when Delos returned to them in a second incarnation. Aman understood that reincarnation into specific families was a trait in many Sirian families, but especially in the higher caste.
Aman halted near his relatives and made a simple obeisance to his uncle and aunt and then turned to survey the crowd before.
Lord Chananda was standing to the side of his Father, Lord Krishna, who was speaking to some dignitaries from the Pleiades. One or two of the men were dressed in their Command uniforms, covered with long formal cloaks. The insignias of their rank and family were emblazoned above their hearts. A ranking member of the secular branch of the Sirian government was also present, one of the Kavioush Family, who had ruled Sirius from time immemorial. Aman was curious as to what was being discussed, but there was a seal of privacy around the discussion. The telepathic speech of the participants could not be interfered with during the presentation until a certain degree of secrecy was no longer required. However, Aman had a sense that the visit involved the desire of the Pleiadians to recruit men and ships for their Command.
The Pleiadian Fleet was one of the biggest in the galaxy, but their territory was also vast and encompassed thousands of isles, big and small. It was almost impossible at times to protect them all so there had been many villages preyed upon by an assortment of raids, from slavers to vicious military operations. There did not seem to be any logic to the way the enemy operated save an intention to create the utmost in fear and outrage. Many outlying smaller star systems had actually joined the Pleiadian Federation to gain protection. All these worlds had their own ships, but those were mainly for private use or as freight carriers, as all the isles shared intersystem commerce at some level.
Aman knew so much about the Pleiadians as his father, Lord Delos, had spent one-year training under one of their top commanders, the famous Commander Lord Lyonell. From Delos’ shared impressions, Aman knew the commander was quite prominent in instructing even his adopted Pleiadians on how to fight this strange enemy, the Belial forces. Perhaps it was something in the Feline bloodline that assisted one in coming up with the unique and innovative techniques for searching out their quarry and scanning the spatial frequencies for disturbances. The priest shook his head as if to clear it of all references to his father and returned his attention to the scene below.
Since the faces of the Pleiadians conveyed some disappointment that even he could discern from above, Aman knew the plea for men had been denied. The Sirian fleet was maxed out with all the smaller attacks coming from multiple directions these days. Aman knew that his father worried about the possibility of a large attack being directed against the great city of Sirust itself, a thrust to the heart of the star system and its government. Despite himself, Aman felt for his father, the heavy weight of command that he had exercised for so long with little respite.
A movement below caught his eye…the tall Pleiadians were bowing to the Sirian leaders, Lord Krishna, and the representative of the Kavioush Family. They turned to leave the audience chamber. As they came parallel to where Aman was standing, he met the up-glance from with one of the taller Pleiadians, a brawny and bronzed individual with golden hair and great blue eyes. Aman stepped back in surprise when the man actually winked at him and then continued on with his companions towards the exit door to the great hall. Who was that? He wondered to himself. A shiver ran through him for the man looked familiar even though he had never seen him before in this life, yet he knew him. He didn’t have time to wonder as he saw his grandfather moving towards a side door that would lead him to the private family quarters within the great dwelling place. Again, making a sketchy obeisance to his elder relatives, Aman dashed off along the gallery as fast as his feet would carry him without injuring his priestly dignity and pride.
Aman reached his grandfather’s private rooms just after the older man had settled into a comfortable couch to rest. Lord Chananda looked up as his grandson strode in without being announced; his flustered housekeeper tried to stop the young man, but the Lord smiled and waved her away. What is it, Aman, that you can’t wait a minute?
Pardon me, Grandfather…I…I have had a vision!
Aman—men of our family have many visions; what is so special about yours that you come barging in when I’m about to rest a while. Standing in the audience hall isn’t the most entertaining of activities!
Aman blushed at his audacity. His grandfather was a scion of one of the highest houses in Sirust and a man of great learning and wisdom, highly respected by all. He bowed and made his apologies, but the vision still had him in its thrall, so he blurted out…”I have seen a way we can protect our worlds!”
For what seemed a long moment, Chananda regarded his grandson with a skeptical look, one dark brow raised over a green eye. He studied the lad’s face and posture and deduced something out of the ordinary had gripped him, indeed. Tell me!
Aman conveyed the vision to his grandfather in a series of pictures, outlining the shapes traced in the air by the mysterious hand, their shape and motion. His grandfather looked on with interest as his grandson endeavored to communicate the consequences and potential of his vision. Finally, he completed his tale and looked over at the elder man. Well, what do you think?
Be patient; I must think this over!
Aman looked with astonishment on his grandfather… who by his looks was not beyond his mid-thirties, but whom the boy knew was well into his 600th year and beyond. Still, with the sensitive nature of his lineage, the boy intuited a growing sense of excitement in the older man. When Chananda felt Aman staring at him impatiently, he waved him out of the room. Go, Aman… I must speak to my Father about this discovery!”
“Aman… thanks to you for this. I just hope it isn’t too late…”
The young priest heard no more as he walked slowly down the corridor to his own quarters so he might change into his priestly robes before returning to the Temple and his duties. What did Grandfather mean when he said “too late”?
It was only in a place that he did not want to acknowledge that he knew and dreaded the answer to his own question – too late for his father, the impetuous and intense defender of Sirius, Lord and Commander Delos. Soberly he walked down the long marble corridor, ignoring the gorgeous inlaid tiles and paintings of the beautiful palace.
His conflicted feelings about his long-absent father returned, dimming the vision of the great meditation. While he was seldom comfortable in his company, Aman secretly admired and deeply loved the brave warrior who was lauded throughout Sirust, who did not let the praise go to his head but focused on his mission, day in and day out, with little respite. And if he was more honest, Aman felt a tiny bit jealous of one who was so sure of his purpose and did his utmost to carry it out no matter what. It was the phrase “no matter what” that sent a shiver through his body, as Aman looked through the window in his room, his inner eyes seeing that distant firefight, one of many in which his father and his forces participated. He could only hope to emulate in some small way the accomplishments of this man who had molded the Sirian star fleet into a great intergalactic fleet, with the latest technology and training from both the Ashtarians and Pleiadians, despite the tendency of the Sirians to want to cling to the old ways.
Aman headed back to the Temple, climbing the grand steps of the huge golden building and turning to admire the view over the sprawling city below, with each of the sections separated by high walls until reaching the outer grounds of the temple hills, the most sacred places in all of Sirust and Sirius A. Climbing the steps slowly, he made the resolution to do something of great value, if only to emulate his great father…
Again, in the middle of the night, Aman was wakened by his golden visitor… this time he looked at the glowing figure more closely. There was a distinct familiarity with its features. The being smiled sweetly and spoke to Aman: “Child of Light, due to your diligence, prayers, and concern for your people, you have been granted a dispensation that will benefit all; it will protect your worlds permanently from further threats of invasion and outside interference…”
“But how so, oh mighty One?” Aman now felt he had sufficiently identified his golden stranger… his own great, great grandfather, the Lord Vishnu, who had gone into the Light years ago. “Lord Vishnu?”
“I AM, grandson.”
“What must be done?”
“Speak to your Grandfather and Great Grandfather and the great Council of Sirius. A great meditation must be given forth for all the people to participate within, as all will be affected by the forcefield that is co-created through this great effort. I will communicate myself with your kin to prepare them.”
For a moment, Aman was stunned…and then another thought interfered…his father and the fleet.
“What of my father and the Fleet?”
“Of your father, we can do nothing; his fate is sealed at his own hand, but the great Fleet will survive what is coming…”
Despite his priestly hard-won self-discipline, Aman felt tears start in his eyes at the judgment against his father. Vishnu, sensing his distress, continued, “Do not fret about your father; what he is about to do is brave beyond measure; foolish, but brave. And he will be taken to a place of healing, where he will be without remembrance of this land and people for many ages to come until such time when he is again at peace. Then it will be time to release this hidden burden of his heart…”
“I do not understand, Grandfather…”
“Do not worry for those whose time is nearly done here in this world; there are many more before them.”
Vishnu appeared more concrete for a moment, his golden clad form glittering in the moonlight, emanating a soft auric glow. “Now for the meditation…watch!”
Using his ability to memorize and observe, Aman carefully watched the motions of his grandfather’s golden hands as they traced the mudras that would activate the great forcefield. And he absorbed the incantations and prayers to repeat to set the forcefield into perpetual motion, a great oscillating forcefield that reverses on itself every few hours and will do so as long as the great Star Nation of Sirius retains its alignment to the Will of the Father God.
Within two months the great meditation was performed and the forcefield was activated, one which still exists today, protecting Sirius and all worlds contained within its star system. Only native Sirians can live within this forcefield. Visitors can only usually stay a couple of hours before they get begin to sicken from the effects of the powerful forcefield. And low-frequency beings cannot enter the forcefield at all. The activation of this great forcefield effectively resulted in protecting all the Sirian worlds from further invasion from the Sons of Belial. This new development allowed selected members of the Sirian fleet to work with other allies like the Pleiadians and Ashtarians on operations to free their worlds of the threat.
As we know from earlier stories, Lord Delos did not survive his last desperate effort to free his world. Instead, his effort and sacrifice won the Sirian people the time to learn the meditation and to perform it in one long night under the light of the same moon in which Aman had first learned it from his paternal great, great grandfather, the God-Man Lord Vishnu. Conceived in the moonlight, the great meditation forever protects Sirius in a great pool of golden light.
For his efforts in saving the people of Sirius, Lord Aman is forever remembered and honored. And the Lord Vishnu bestowed the name, Treya, upon this servant of the Father God. The name means blessed by the Light of Kristos. And Lord Aman Treya Gia would forevermore carry forth that name in recognition of his great service as an emissary of Light in alignment with Divine Will.
And Lord Delos never returned back to his beloved Sirius…
Main Page – Remembrance: My Sirian Past Lives
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Permission is NOT given to make videos or recordings of this written material. Author: Elizabeth Ayres Escher, 2018.