said, smiling. “I would like to formally introduce you to my manager Renae. Renae, this is Mrs Phillips.”
After Renae and Mrs Phillips had exchanged pleasantries, Renae discreetly left.
“That’s a very intuitive young woman you have working for you, Professor.”
“I couldn’t agree more.”
“Did you receive your gift this morning?” she asked.
“Gift? Oh yes, thank you. May I be so bold as to ask how you obtained the parchment?”
“Most certainly, Professor, you are welcome to ask.” Her tone left no doubt in his mind that he wouldn’t receive an answer. “Professor Belmont, have you had the opportunity to become acquainted with the Phillips and the Conway families’ history at all?”
“Please, Mrs Phillips, call me Nathanial,” he instructed indicating for her to be seated at one of the armchairs placed about his office. “Until yesterday I was still working at the university,” he said, sitting in the seat opposite her. “This left me with little spare time. Is it important?”
Mrs Phillips looked directly at him. “You may call me Barbette, Nathanial,” she replied, smiling. “Some things require explanation and you will need an understanding of past historical events to get a clearer picture. I suggest you start with the journals Matthew Phillips and Terence Conway wrote.”
Nathanial looked at Barbette in the manner of ‘continue, please’, but nothing was forthcoming, other than a knowing grin.
“I am wondering if you were the one who originally sent this message,” he queried, presenting Barbette with the parchment Renae had given him.
“I shall return home now,” Barbette stated, rising from her chair. “If you would be so kind as to escort me to the car.” He had learned earlier on that when Mrs Phillips didn’t wish to communicate it was a waste of time in persisting. It was frustrating. He walked Barbette to her car with neither of them saying a word. As they approached, her chauffeur opened her door and she climbed in.
“Thank you, Nathanial. I look forward to hearing from you soon.”
He returned to the shop totally mystified; how did she obtain the parchment? As he entered the shop he caught Renae’s attention, indicating for her to meet him in his office.
“What was that all about?” she said, bemused.
“I don’t know, but I think I need a history lesson. Can you see to it that I’m not disturbed?”
“Of course, no one will bother you. I’ll make certain of it,” she affirmed.
One of the conditions of the purchase of the bookshop from Phillcon Enterprises was the storage of the Phillips and Conway family histories and their personal journals. Nathanial found what he was looking for and started reading; it proved to be quite an eye opener. He was interrupted by a knock at the door.
“Enter.”
Renae walked in with some herbal tea and sandwiches. He thanked her and remarked about not being disturbed. She smiled and said that the shop had been closed for an hour. It was time to stop his research. Laughing at his surprise, she placed the tray of food and drinks on a table and sat in one of the armchairs.
“The journals Matthew Phillips and Terence Conway wrote of their experiences in the Woodlands are incredible,” he advised her.
“What do you mean by incredible?” she responded, intrigued.
Walking from behind the desk he joined Renae. While she poured the tea he explained. “Everyone knows about Phillcon Enterprises’ rise to fame. What’s not known is how it was achieved. Both Matthew Phillips and Terence Conway were gifted psychics. Their abilities were fully developed when they entered the Woodlands.”
“I’m not grasping what you mean about developed in the Woodlands?”
“Why do you think it’s forbidden to enter the Woodlands?” Nathanial asked while pointing in that general direction. “Why encircle a forest the size of ten city blocks in a wall that’s eight feet thick at its base, rises twenty feet into the air and curves outwards?”
Renae shrugged. “I don’t think anyone knows the answers to those questions.”
“Then allow me to educate you,” he answered, smiling. “According to Phillips and Conway, the Woodlands contain countless realms of reality, both spiritual and material, which are being manifested into a consciousness of being. The Woodlands is where the Astral Plane interconnects with our world of Telluric. I’ve had my suspicions that they were. These documents are the first testimonials I’ve read that support that belief.”
Renae sat dumbfounded for a moment before she spoke. “Are you telling me the Woodlands is part of the Astral Plane? Nathanial!” Renae was shocked. “The Astral Plane is the ethereal world between all realms of consciousness. It’s where a spirit rests before being reincarnated. It’s not meant to be a physical manifestation of awareness. How could something like that happen?”
“According to the journals Phillips and Conway wrote, each realm of learning has a Keeper to implement Oletha’s laws of love and kindness,” he advised her as he reach for a drink. “However, the Keeper for the Astral Plane has vanished.”
“Hang on a minute,” Renae said, confused. “Who’s Oletha and what’s a Keeper?”
“Oletha is the name other realms of existence give to what we refer to as The Mystery of the True Light,” he explained. “They also have a name for The Mystery of the One Truth: Slegna.”
“Fascinating,” Renae said in amazement. “So what we call a Balanced consciousness, The Mystery of the True Light, they call Oletha,” she said in admiration, “and an Unbalanced awareness, The Mystery of the One Truth, they refer to as Slegna.”
“Correct,” he replied, seeing the wonderment on her face.
“I like that, Nathanial. It has a personal feel to it. So what’s a Keeper?”
He smiled fondly at her and continued. “A Keeper is an overseer of sorts,” he replied, a little unsure. “The journals aren’t terribly clear. It has something to do with maintaining balance between Oletha and Slegna.”
“Okay,” Renae said questioningly. “So do you know what happened to the Keeper?”
“Apparently it was time for the Keeper to transcend to the heavenly realms of Oletha, allowing in the new Keeper.”
“Why is that a problem?” queried Renae as she picked up a sandwich.
“Because,” Nathanial replied, taking a sip of his drink, “Oletha chose this transition period to allow Slegna, and his underlings, free travel between all realms of existence, thus bringing to the attention of the followers of the True Light the extent of Unbalanced spirits upon their world.”
“By Unbalanced you mean riffraff and law breakers?”
“That’s one way to put it, yes,” he agreed putting his drink down and reaching for a sandwich.
“That would explain
