The Lizard Man, Narrative # 1

The Lizard Man

Enigma Of Existence

The starship became geostationarily positioned over earth, orbiting in time with the her rotation. Earth was still a half-shadowed sphere in a black void, but they where much closer now, -yet not fully to the edge of her atmosphere. The earth’s moon was over the ship now, bright, full, and white: a huge shiny obsidian-like stone reflecting the sun's rays.

***

Upon the starship in the darkened room the ageless Lizard Being sat naked, as the rainbow of light danced around him. His eyes were closed and his green scaled body shifted imperceptibly as me meditated. His face was angular, green textured leather stretched over the stone that was his skull. Upon his head were rows of bony raised spots where the plates of his skull had shifted over eons creating ridges and depressions. He had no visible nose except for two slit-like openings on the front of his face. His jaw was wide and hinged high upon on his face in mute expression. Around his neck was a scant leathery fringe of striped skin like the hood of a cobra. On the outside, it didn't look like he did much except sit in meditation, yet on the inside he carried a vast spaciousness, a powerful vigilance, and a library of vast memories. His mind was like the inner workings of the-great-grandfather-clock-of-time itself.

...Time... tImelines... splitting... he calculated silently, as the starship slowly entered the earth's gravitation field. The Lizard Being remote viewed:

Under closed eyelids he looked closer as the timeliness spread out below him in kaleidoscope form. He saw: A winding river that went on and on through a green landscape. Clouds passing across a mountain’s face at seeming time-lapse speed. A 'V' of flying birds (he could hear their voices like angelic songs in his mind). A large dragon-like ribcage bleached white sat on a beach. There were other more distant timeliness too - a million pasts and a million different futures: Stars far off in a night sky. Cave paintings sprouting moss. A spiral drawn in orange sand with the stick of an unseen hand. The kaleidoscope shifted, and he saw a familiar waterfall of blue sky poured into a pool of yellow light that reflected the sun which became the blue sky again. Through it all he saw a winding river and he knew it was the river of his own bloodline. ... oh Magdela... He thought, thinking of something long ago..

He stirred then from his meditation in the dark room. His kundalini serpent re-entered the crown of his head, returning waking consciousness back to his body, and imbuing his aura with green tadpoles of light. He opened his huge red eyes. His black pupils like vertical cuts pulsated, dilating and contracting in time with the calculations that reverberating within the still vastness of his mind. His expression was a deep penetrating power in the dark room, but there was a sadness in his eyes that burned softy like dying embers - a tiredness.

He knew that Katulu had seen him meditating and had been confused by his rainbow astral form. He went to him now, gliding past the central hall and into his sleeping quarters, to stand vigil over his silent body. He could sense Katulu's fever-dream, and saw that the green blanket clung to him with sweat, and yet he knew the futility of waking him too soon

Katulu turned in his sleep, whimpered and then sighed. His body, hot and fevery was half tangled in the green nano-fabric. The lizard man waited for Katulu to awaken, but Katulu did not, seeming committed to sleeping and dreaming until the end of time. The lizard man could see into his dreams: Katulu sought his own resolution in corridors of lost wanderings, in looking for the lost memories of his mother and for his forgotten sister. The lizard man knew about dreaming. He knew that dreams could be the source of both the highest beauty and the worst nightmares. He thought quietly to the young child... ...Patience ...waiting ...time is like a river that leads forward and back... my way is the way back... and yours is the way forwards, he silently said to the being that he had named Katulu. ...yet both lead to their origin... Under Katulu's half closed lids he could sense the unsung brightness is the child's watery eyes. Then he added, Time is but a memory ...and memories are like poems in the mind. You may not be awake now.. but it is your destiny as a being of living flesh to behold this world wide open eyes... one time... ...a day will come...

He stood over Katulu and suddenly felt the true worth of his vigil. He thought of the child's mother again. What a mystery this all was. He never chose this, never wanted children, for in a way he felt like he was never a child himself, and yet how could he reject such an unlikely gift from creation's song, especially when he knew that this child would one day carry some of his most precious memories... He hoped at least he wold not pass on his worst memories to the young turquoise skinned boy. It was not him who chose this time-line. He was simply a witness to it, and yet he still had a role to play within it. He was wise enough now to know that old rifts in time healed themselves on their own if you left them alone long enough like how pendulums of many clocks begin to swing in unison of you leave them alone.

After an eternity he walked away down the hallway. ...Memories.. are like poems in the mind... this is my poem: Summer, fall, winter, spring... time is an illusion, a vast field of potential... and yet still seasons remain a beauty to behold... And then very very quietly, almost imperceptible he said to himself (so no one would ever hear) I am afraid to lose my own memories and so I make poems that will live on after I am gone.

Down the Central Hallways of the ship near the light chamber that was the ships heart-engine, the lizard man had etched a reminder in the smooth bone-like walls. In a fractal rune-scape lettering of his own understanding, It said:

Those who would enter the spaces between these walls. Beware:

Learn as I have, the difference between true and false.

For between these wall, therein, lies true darkness: an uncharted map.

A tunnel to the a pool of light. A realm: Barbello.

Under pressure of darkness is forged a diamond of unimaginable worth.