REINCARNATION.
The grand sorcerer Charka and his guard had with reverend flight borne
the body of their goddess Lyone to the palace of souls, mourning the
death of their adored, who had been so precious, so beautiful, so
holy.
The high priestess and the grand sorceress, together with the priests
and priestesses of Egyplosis, on hearing of the death of Lyone,
departed at once for Egyplosis, to mourn the death of their goddess.
Lyone was dead!
Ah me! what was triumph then, without my soul of souls to share its
delights? The blessed cup of joy, quivering to the brim, was about to
touch my yearning lips when it was dashed aside by a treacherous hand.
Well might the crownless Bhoolmakar laugh in whatever damnable retreat
he had retired to! His revenge was complete.
Oh, the pity of it! The young, the adorable, the divine soul who was
just about to remount her throne to receive a purer adoration from her
people; she who was to be queen of Atvatabar, slain treacherously,
within sight of the Bormidophia, wherein she had so long been
worshipped.
It was impossible for me to remain longer on the field of battle. I
wanted to fling myself on that once happy form and kiss her death-cold
lips!
I left Coltonobory and his surrendered army in the hands of the
supreme general Hushnoly, and started at once for Egyplosis. As my
wings devoured the leagues of air I thought, was this the climax for
which I fought? I flew along with none to share my torture. My heart
was rent wide open, and in my agony I rolled upon the air as I flew,
for brain and soul seemed an ocean of fire.
I arrived at Egyplosis full of anguish. With quivering lips and
burning tears I staggered into the portal that led to the subterranean
palace where I knew my loved one was laid. I silently entered the
magnificent abode of the sorcerer, horror-stricken with despair.
Suddenly, beyond the labyrinth I heard a golden sound, the sound of
that blessed bell that once before rolled its waves of delight over my
spirit. I stood leaning against a pillar, dissolved in its bewitching
moans, luxuriating in the Agapamone of music breathed from the
delirious bronze. I heard wafted from the mysterious temple the
refrain of thousands of voices chanting a ritual of love and peace.
The multitudinous sound seemed so soft and so thrilling, so powerful
and so holy, that I was eager to know if such burden of love was the
sorrowing passion of the twin-souls in honor of their dead goddess.
I saw through the open doors of the temple a moving throng of
twin-souls, swaying in masses hither and thither, with naked feet on
the aquelium floor. On every forehead burned an electric star, giving
a spectral flush to the scene. That was the singing multitude I had
heard, the hierophants of the holy soul.
As my eyes grew accustomed to the objects before me, I saw the
interior of the temple, on whose sculptured walls and roof roses woven
of smouldering electric fires revealed their burning bloom. Wires of
platinum, terrelium, and aquelium had been woven into a filagree of
roses, with leaves and stems made red hot by the electric current.
High above the sculptured dado rose strange windows of illuminated
glass, in colors sad and brilliant, made visible by thousands of
electric lights hidden in the sculptured recesses behind each window.
The subject of each jewelled pane was a tableau of reincarnation, in
which the figures of sorcerers and magicians, robed in splendid
attire, gave life to beings that had died.
The frieze was one continual blaze of color, formed also of enamelled
glass emblazoned with life-sized processional figures and illuminated
with incandescent lights.
In a distant part of the temple, on a terrelium pedestal, I again saw
a monster of gold, with a terrible head and outstretched wings.
As I surveyed this stupendous figure, I discovered that it held in
its fore paws an immense helix of terrelium wire, ten feet in length
and nine feet in diameter. One end of the wire was joined to ten
thousand wires, whose extremities, terminating in terrelium wands,
were held by the twin-souls. Each priest held a wand in his right
hand, and each priestess a wand in her left, and their disengaged arms
were wound around one another's waists.
The other end of the voluminous wire forming the helix terminated in
the rivet of an enormous spring that held a circular rheotome close to
the circular mouth of the helix.
On a pedestal level with the upheld battery, reached by a spiral
stairway, stood the grand sorcerer Charka, robed in tissues of white
silk and golden embroidery. An assistant priest turned a wheel that
moved a screw point toward the spring of the rheotome. The moment the
screw point touched the spring, the circular plate over the heart of
the helix began to vibrate audibly. Another turn of the screw, and a
vital thrill filled the temple with its sonorous music.
I then knew that all that mysterious structure with its terrelium
wires was an immense spiritual battery, charged with the life and love
of ten thousand souls. The vital fluid, generated in the yearnings of
ideal love, flooded the helix with its vitality and induced a
magnetism of life that made the rheotome vibrate with emotion, until
the whole temple shook with the thrilling sound.
The priests and priestesses sang their ritournels of passion and love,
and the grand sorcerer waved his wand over the monster's head. It was
then the thought of Lyone filled my soul with a terrible yearning.
Where was her hapless body? Was this feast of passion that I beheld
her obsequies, or could it be some occult incantation to raise her
from the dead?
The thought fired my brain with madness! Oh, that it might be possible
for her to live again, if only for one hour, that she might hear of
victory! All at once I seemed to know that Lyone was laid in the heart
of the helix held by the hehorrent. I knew, oh, I knew that the
spectacle I beheld was the ceremony of reincarnation. I knew that the
goddess was being swathed with currents of life from her votaries. How
I blessed those living batteries, so faithful in their glorious work!
How I blessed the adorable sorcerer who conducted this precious
ministry of life, who focussed the love of thrilling souls upon the
person of their goddess!
I stood transfixed to the floor, watching with straining eyes those
flamens of life perform their ritual of reincarnation. The air of the
temple grew warm as blood, and infinitely holy. Soft and piercing
music rose from unseen chambers of the temple, which, mingling with
the blessed storm of life that beat upon the mouth of the helix,
seemed to whirl away my senses.
The first circle of souls around the dragon comprised the votaries of
Bishano, or Sorcery; Hielano, or Magic; Nidialano, or Astrology;
Padamano, or Soothsaying.
The second circle embraced the adepts of Niano, or Witchcraft;
Redohano, or Wizardry; Biccano, or the Oracle; Kielano, or Augury;
Tocderano, or Prophecy; Jiracano, or Geomancy; Jocdilano, or
Necromancy.
The third circle embraced the hierophants of Orphitano, or
Conjuration; Orielano, or Divination; Pridano, or Clairvoyance;
Ecthyano, or Mesmerism; Cideshano, or Electro-Biology; Omdolophano, or
Theosophy; Bishanamano, or Spiritualism.
How shall I describe the spell of that hour? Glimmering figures, clad
in robes of finest gossamer of the rarest colors, powderings and
embroiderings, sang the songs of pained and enraptured sensibility.
They loved, they wept, they supplicated Harikar!
I saw twin-souls embrace in infinite tenderness, and again with
ecstatic enthusiasm. It was a sea of supernatural emotion. It was an
abyss of affection, filled with a whirlwind of bold, delicate,
enormous love.
A _religieuse_ of Tocderano shouted, "She will live again!"
A priest of Biccano sang, "She will be born again of mystical,
chivalrous love!"
As the enraptured host sang of life and love, I felt a million
exaggerations of the delicacies of emotion. I felt as though fanned
with warm winds blowing over wildernesses of flowers. I heard the
multiplied splendor of bells, roaring like the soft vociferations of
far-off tropic seas. I heard music ineffably tender and sublime,
wailing its intoxicating melodies. I saw strange illuminations
dissolve in never-ceasing explosions of color on the glorified
windows. I saw upon the floor endless arabesques of twin-souls,
fantastically entangled and unrolled.
Suddenly the temple shook with an explosion of sound that seemed the
concentrated madness of drums and organs and bells; the roaring of the
rheotome grew deafeningly louder, mingling with a strange shivering
sound, such as is produced by the suddenly transfixed wheels of a
flying locomotive, tearing the metals into a hissing blaze. From the
mouth of the hehorrent streamed a blaze of fire. I looked where the
sorcerer stood----
Heavens and earth! He was holding Lyone in his arms, alive from the
living battery! Lyone, the peerless soul of souls, alive once more and
triumphant over death!
The temple whirled around me rapid as fire, and I fell to the ground
insensible with joy!