The challenges of being ‘dead’ by Tamara
When I was murdered, a God spoke to me during my dying moments, assuring me the changes I was undergoing were necessary and needed to ensure that The Path of Light reigned supreme upon the final collapse of universes.
Or, I think that’s what he said. I was in great pain at the time. I remember asking him for a pain killer, but he said he didn’t know the paperwork for that.
Then my body died and the pain stopped. Honestly, I was relieved. Given I was soul-bonded to Saran and wife to my beloved Dmitri, I still existed. However, my life had changed dramatically. While I learned to create an image of myself, if Dmitri attempted to hug me, or hold my hand, I’d disappear and I’d have to regather a bunch of molecules before I could be seen again.
However, on the bright side I never got hungry, sleepy, tired and could travel about the world with ease.
I guess you could say I became a ghost…but don’t because I don’t like that word. It conjures up creepy, angry and possibly demented spirits. I didn’t lose my sanity. How could I when half my soul resided in Saran? Also I still had Dmitri and even in death he still loved me.
While I spoke to Saran every day, I kept my changed state a secret, fearing the news might kill my sweet soul-bond, causing us both to disappear.
Later, when we become the first ever Soul Bond of Three, I’ll be strong enough to create a body that feels human to the touch but cannot be harmed, thus becoming a key protector for those going outbound. I’ll love my new form and be very glad my human form died years before. Otherwise, I would not be able to protect my soul-bonds and the other colonists so well.
And believe me, there is a bunch of protecting I’ll need to do.
With the prodding of the her dead soul-bond’s spirit, Saran and their giant blue bull leave their farm in search of a handler so Blue can escape Earth and travel outbound. The man Saran meets and falls in love with is her dead soul-bond’s husband, and their spiritual joining sets into play a prophecy written three hundred thousand years before.
Together, they become Tamsarandem, the most powerful soul-bond in all the multiverses. The shamans pay for their voyage to Terranue, a planet never before colonized. In return, they only ask Tamsarandem to look after the other colonists and help them to prosper and find their Paths of Light.
Failing to stop Tamsarandem from leaving Earth, those who walk the Path of Darkness embed their own people on the ship to ensure it will never arrive at Terranue. In case that fails, they send their darkest lord disguised as an innocent to ensure the death of all who follow the Light. To be certain of success, long ago, they seeded an evil within Terranue that can devour everything on the planet. Finally, they will strike a fatal blow that darkens the Path of Light through all the multiverses.
The Gods must step back and let matters run their natural course, for they are running out of authorized interventions. However, the God Pane, with the help of the sentient ship computer Marybell, keep searching for clever workarounds to ensure The Path of Light will reign supreme upon the final collapse. But there is only so much they can do within their bureaucratic rules.
Focusing, Tamara created a faint, shimmering image of her former self. She could have created a solid appearance, but she thought a shimmer might make Saran realize the change in her existence without the sudden blow of what it meant.
“Tamara, is that you?” Saran whispered.
“Yes,” Tamara replied through mind-speak.
Saran’s face distorted in anguish. “Are you dead?”
Tamara flinched at the waves of pain Saran exuded. As soul-bonds, what one felt, the other felt, unless they purposely blocked their soul-bond from the truth, which she had done during her painful death.
Saran’s torment was exactly the reason she had delayed returning. She could not bear to feel sweet Saran in pain, nevertheless be the cause of it. “I prefer to be called no longer corporal.” She moved closer, wishing she could embrace her soul-bond, but that was not possible. All she had to comfort were her words. “You possess half of my soul. I cannot die as long as you live.”
As Tamara neared, goose bumps formed on Saran’s arms, which she tried to rub away.
“Sorry for the chill. It’s the ionization process I use to create my form.” Unable to endure the her soul-bond’s current distress, she checked out the animals.
Tamara had purposely portrayed herself exactly as she had looked the day she’d run away six years prior, the last image Saran had of her. She’d hoped the familiar brown, weaved pants and white shirt of a handler would make their first meeting less stressful. Her blond hair was braided down the center of her back, just as Saran had done for her six years ago.
Book 2: Surviving Outbound
Book 1: The Gods of Probabilities
About the demented author....
Liza O’Connor lives in Denville, NJ with her dog Jess. They hike in fabulous woods every day, rain or shine, sleet or snow. Having an adventurous nature, she learned to fly small Cessnas in NJ, hang-glide in New Zealand, kayak in Pennsylvania, ski in New York, scuba dive with great white sharks in Australia, dig up dinosaur bones in Montana, sky dive in Indiana, and raft a class four river in Tasmania. She’s an avid gardener, amateur photographer, and dabbler in watercolors and graphic arts. Yet through her entire life, her first love has and always will be writing novels.
There be a lot of them!