Divine Prince of Elansa

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Introduction

Dawn mist broke upon a silver shore in silent time somewhere in the remotest sector of a vast galaxy that shown as a brilliant spiral, ever turning throughout its long ages of creation and evolution. This silent sector, unlike those nearby, teaming with the myriad activities of mortals, and immortals, was new, young and immature. Its many systems were yet developing to the point of official registry.

It was a dawn drawn upon the celestial boards of the heavenly architects. In shimmering flows of silver light across the new and clean expanse of expectant readiness, the vibrant world was ready to actualize and activate.

A fortunate planet, filled with life for the distinct purpose of harboring mortal beings capable of reaching the finest of inroads to divinity.

It was the beginning of time in the minor galaxy of Lanatoba, a system of a thousand proposed worlds newly opened, like the pages of this story, for the scrutiny of the implanters of life and ideas. Already a third of these worlds knew mortal human-types.

On a particular planet, within the system of Lanatoba, Elansa (a registered name known only to the strange visitors and a few of the loyal natives), the mortals, in general, were growing strong and upright. This was to the absolute delight and profound interest of the divine overseers, who had left a garden, ruminants still evident, and ancient signs of their once expanding influence in this part of the planet. All progress had stopped, however, when the leaders fell into default.

Instead of being led out of spiritual darkness from their savage state into the clear light of understanding, the mortals had been left without visible guidance to help them. But it was soon to change with the ordained assistance of a rare and highly unique settlement of beautifully-strange brothers and sisters from Traversa, a mysterious and legendary place far, far away.

That new orb, Elansa, shimmered in the bright rays of a double sun and swung in a sure orbit, proudly announcing its birth and intent to full registration as a planet of profound status, rapid advancement, and erudite speculation. Indeed, it proposed such a unique experiment that its own handlers and distant star-students alike, took regard. Elansa soon came into serious study circles and became a topic in the conclaves of top scientists and astronomers.

Whereas Traversa had died like a moth in the flame of the supernova of her old and worn out mother sun, E-Ghat, proud Elansa prospered in the cradle of protection from a central source that contained two giants of nuclear fuel that would guarantee an ominous power for a time that would make the old and ancient system of Ghat appear to have only lasted mere seconds.

It was perhaps many years after the total destruction of Traversa that this story begins, at least as one might reckon time according to linear sequences. Actually, although experiencing it, I, Isaac Midnight, cannot tell you for sure or in any way that you might easily fathom. It is indeed a phenomenon that is quite impossible to relate in words or other sequential concepts. I must rely upon my story to offer a slight impetus to the abstract, or to point to a rather vague realm well beyond the positions you might normally accept as the true platforms of reference when it comes to what you have considered as time.

Suffice it to say; I cannot any longer discern how long it might have been before my consciousness began to coalesce on Elansa after my, nearly preempted, birth on fair, but failing Traversa, or if even they might not have been easily and totally superimposed. Time becomes relative when we view space and vast distances as actual experiences.

In an extraneous way, almost equally does the phenomenon of relative size enter these tales. Traversa was a very tiny planet, compared with the new giant, Elansa. The ratio of comparison being a great deal more radical than the comparison of your moon with your sun, and that would only be relative to a fixed position, such as your own. It is, really, quite an inadequate analogy. Size seems to be relative according to the set position of the viewer.

All things in the various universes act, somewhat, like your own goldfish, in that they seem to assume a size according to the environment in which they exist. If the gold-fish bowl is small, the inhabitants will only exist in a size compatible with that space. If the bowl, or other confinement, is immense, they will take on equally tremendous proportions.

But, even that is only relative and, still, a poor explanation. If I were to tell you that the people of Elansa were so large you could see only a very small fragment of a single individual at any one time, and the people of Traversa so small that they could all survive quite comfortably on the head of a pin, I would, still, be wrong. If they were to be transported to your own realm, they would, indeed, take on proportions much, closer to those comparable with your own, even though there would be some variation. This might be somehow compared to the phenomenon of osmosis in which adopted children sometimes begin to look like their assigned parents.

Thus, at any rate, have the relativities of the universe imposed themselves into my own consciousness. It becomes, at some point, clear that space, time, distance and size are one simple movement.

Of greater importance is the fact that within this incredible movement, the individual wills of the inhabitants of the multitudinous worlds may reach the acutely reliable avenues of dedication to the Will of the One Divine Parent. This is the profound point of movement.

In this story, I hope to bring out that simple truth again, for it cannot be over-emphasized. Mortal existence is duly enfolded in a distinct desire to do and be any and all things essential to a final attainment of the ultimate merging of human will with that One Most Divine Will. It is the true secret of survival and the genuinely real and most supreme desire in all bona fide human beings, no matter how rudimentary it might appear at any given time. Regardless of how far one may feel he or she might have strayed from that basic aim on any given day of the mortal life, that desire is the motivating factor of positive movement that, eventually, impels that being ever onward and upward in response to reality.

It is to that movement that I dedicate the underlying statement of this story. For it is to that response that the characters, my friends, have tended to submit themselves. It is for them that I write; it is by them that I am ultimately commissioned to bring you these tales. It is with supreme gratitude to them, and to all the new friends I am meeting on your own sphere, that I accept this task and fervently set my hand.

It was the dawn of time on the planet Elansa. I was there. The unique situation, as long as it existed, early bespoke of a guiding hand, although a sinister set-back sought to undermine some of the loyal inhabitants to the illusion of defaulting appearances that are so easily accepted by humankind on the more primitive worlds of time and space.

Into this pertinent dawn of time I was placed. Certainly it was not as a prince or any other kind of dignitary, but merely as an evolutionary child from circumstances rare and quite nearly, unprecedented. If for no other reason, other than my own personal spirit evolution, to relay another tale, which I truly delight in giving.

Sincerely in Life,
Isaac Midnight