Toward Carpatian Divinity

By Michael Markevich

The suggestion within the title accurately sums up the direction that the author has taken with the character story and allegory of the second book.
The extremely unique and gifted characters of the Carpadia legend have journeyed to the Skeletal Coast of Africa in order to bear witness to the birth of a savior. She will usher in the Fifth Civilization of mankind but these followers of that cause are not yet spiritually sufficient.
Toward Carpatian Divinity quickly begins to outline the direction that these disciples will realize in travels and inner sanctum.
The chapters are organized as parables and each is a message within the broad communication of integrity and moral code. The tools and locations of these metaphysical errands are as diverse and novel as the entire imaginative spectrum.
Holoflux becomes a hive in the creative process of transmigration as it develops from the witchery of a coven of white Wiccans. Claire is introduced as the beautiful and fragile recipient of a powerful Magnolia vision that spins away phenomenal debris. She is left with the stationary, ancient and unfaltering soul of her matriarchal line and gives that hearts desire to Dneipo. The Mystic aboriginal sorcerers become entangled in the source helix of the manifest and are able to cross time and space. Intent is described as a pawl designed to catch in the ratchet of moment discontinuity. Ron and Vani play a chess-like game as pawns able to capture the most superior concepts and Vanisila maintains her earthly presence as a Valkyrie and bypasses the aging process.
The parables continue, bringing insight and awareness to the characters. The final chapter is a eulogy praising the spiritual enlightenment of the illuminati as it opens with
We now become Divine Carpatians.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Dec 23, 2010
• ISBN: 9781456713690

Michael Markevich

Michael returned to Canada after many years of adventure with the directive of penning a Five title series. This has been the published completion of the "Carpadia" series. The best way to say something about the author is his commitment and fulfilment. The Five book narrative has been physically sealed in an actual archive that is expected to remain secure and intact for an estimated fifty thousand years or more, no matter what! Michael offers this all important summation and conclusion to a global citizen who would embrace such far reaching suggestion.

Book preview

I

A frequency radiated out from the core a of a nuclear furnace, traveled across a universal vacuum and gently inundated a chemically saturated membrane at the posterior center of a liquid globe. This electromagnetic wave in interaction, coded a message that propagated the length of a nerve fiber to a layered bundle, where it was assigned subjective criteria in consciousness as billion year old star light.

Reeds were vibrating at considerably slower frequencies, dexterity of a musician’s metacarpals and forearm pressure, manipulating choices of the audible, as a slightly inebriated dreamer worked bellows and keyboard of his concertina.

Uncle Poje would be traveling early next rotation, from his mountain hovel at what we will simply call, The Big White, to the western coast of Canada’s mainland and then over to an island archipelago, to Salt Spring.

Five meters behind his precarious perch on the starlit deck and through a portcullis supporting a transparent, sliding environmental divider, blinked an e-invitation on a folding portable communicator.

At the source of his invitation, on a cedar deck, in the center of an arbutus/fir grove, in a candle lit dusk of a fiery north-west sunset, sat a mulatto akpwon. Indigo nestled into ancient rhythms of her native Santoria and a swaying subtleness was accepted by four hundred generations of conviction, in a tiny proximal cardiac muscle.

Aunts and uncles who were present on the Namib" for that tissue’s first independent contractions and relaxations, would be attending the fifth anniversary of that event. A slightly larger circle of those within that circle would also be present. Poje and lovely Sarah and a grandmother’s friend Vlad, with his beautiful cat-woman Schel,…they would all be at the ceremony.

As it was,…and would forever be, on that fate riddled delivery of destiny,…both an arrival and a departure. Events of that morning on the Namib would be witnessed on a distant star in a billion years, making time less of a linear progression and more of an energy cube. If seeing is believing somewhere and some-when, all things are happening at once.

At the moment a beautiful energy nodule with volition of the composite V entity had chosen inclusion in commonality, an aging dreamer-sage had chosen a timeless, borderless, limitless energy well.

This celebration would occur at Holoflux, the spa at which Indigo and Vani had first met. They had subsequently journeyed by airship and jet-boat to Tsaa’ahl at the edge of two worlds. There they had described mutual intent and had accepted the responsibility of drawing from a vast unity of unlimited frequencies, the chaos storm, to create design limitations that would independently declare presence and awareness.

Disciples and acquaintances of that event would be together at the spa to celebrate Carpadia’s birthday and to remember the phase transition of Misha. Light, reflecting from glistening orbs of their relative first and last earthly visions, was simultaneously propagating outward,…into a relatively miniscule vastness,…without moving.

If frequencies of those photon packets were indeed an ultimate phenomenal constant then consciousness might be regressing at 186,000 mi./sec just to stay in the same place. (Red Queen and Alice) No wonder time had been described as an interval between being ahead of oneself and of being.¹

The almost five year old understood something about thresholds that vigorously berated a definitive law of linear propagation at such a sill. Her aunt Vanisila was an angel on earth. She carried and projected a brilliant Dark unity that beamed from her soul, through a door left slightly ajar. This was a woman who would walk across sands of time without disturbing them. While she retained consciousness at a place above her shoulders, her heart was worn on her sleeve, and her feet had not completely ventured into an isolated commonality of phenomena.

Carpadia had recognized the participation of Vanisila’s duality and the unique and very particular contribution of each disciple even as she lay as a baby on drifting dunes of the Namib. She also dreamed Sea Mother’s dream, felt Raven claws and Wolf breath and prostrated her humble simian form, before an inquisitive acknowledgement of eyes as big as a man.

The idea had been described in many a legend and fable. A new-born coming into the world with complete consciousness. Of course, there are very few ways of coming into a world without complete consciousness. Spirit ancestors from grasses of Cameroon had super imposed the chatter of their rattles over a thumping hydrodynamic rhythm of her cardiac contractions and a brilliant aboriginal scepter focused voice energy from a realm ruled by serpents. Bonesy was there to present his ancient Haida ancestors and their Speaker’s Staff. It whispered into her recently operational spiraling cochlea, ….and those of her uncle Ron.

Temporarily occupying space and leaving prints in time-dunes was a Poet. He hung earthly phenomena behind himself, like a tapestry on a shaky scaffold, yet as he smiled graciously at a gate of the Fifth civilization, she acknowledged his ability to simply step behind.

Uncle Dneipo spoke to her in a Slavic dialect of Carpathia but used so many inferences from a Popul Vuh, that she also began to understand the language of a Mayan Quiche Kingdom. Dneipo had recognized code in their ancient ibal and had become a seeing instrument of many primitive cultures.

Carpadia had just chosen life and that immersion immediately required her to start paying attention. Complexities would inundate a psyche and develop a guarded ego, but a primal clarity of those first moments of witness and recognition would never be lost. She would even notice and remember the scratching of a pencil, and in the hands of a willowy brunette, knew those markings to be of a hieroglyphic nature.

The complete scene of a feminine principles emergence into a world of commonality and phenomena was witnessed and acknowledged in participation. Subtlety of that situation cannot be overstated except by reference to alternative. Without witness and participation such an emergence is just a glance at spatial fabric, quickly followed by a return to Dark chaos storm.

Extreme drive and necessity that compelled attendance of disciples was an involute whorl-pool of energy drawing them toward an hour glass narrows. As they passed through and returned to the greater receptacle of common phenomena they were accompanied by Carpadia, known and distinguished from all other people.

Nadia searched dunes and wind-swept beach and realized that someone had not emerged from the narrows. Misha would no longer be distinguishable. His grip of light-spectrum fabric had been sketchy and she knew that his shadow had faded into Dark. Nadia supposed that he waited until time spiraled into Carpadia’s brand new corridor before transcending an ultimate constant velocity.

She searched a parallel frequency of radiation just next to spectrum, where they had communicated, and found him there, in her unwavering heart. A reciprocal situation of interacting matter and energy would be compromised to an interaction of energy with energy. The subtle quality of that transaction would only be realized by Nadia, Carpadia and KiiJay.

The hunter-priest KiiJay was an exceptional shaman and spirit traveler who had interwoven his life and destiny with a Valkyrie. He had helped Vanisila remember her brother and mother and then guided his group to the reunion on the Nanib. Misha and Nadia were his companions and with Vanisila they had held to a sacred unity. KiiJay had stood with Misha at the edge of an un-dimensional and windows of their souls had made a great answer evident. Traveling into the vault of souls was a shaman practice yet it still allowed a description of parameters. KiiJay understood that realm well and he knew that Misha was not there,….but everywhere beyond describable limits, in a Dark non-identity.

Vani and Indigo were not only parents of Carpadia but humble initiators of a mutual intent that was planned purpose of four civilizations of humankind. In a petri-dish gene pool that still maintained the six hand shake rule, how could they feel otherwise.

II

The impact was no more than a dull thud against her shin, but the jangled pain that radiated up and down her lower leg suggested a fracture, or possibly a complete break. This situation required calm consideration, even for such a forest creature who intrinsically maintained complete savvy in the ways of a primitive code.

A big cat eyed the liver and internal organs of its rabbit appetizer like an ancient Etruscan haruspex. Perhaps magic of those green obsidians was indeed able to focus on the animal’s blood consciousness to foretell an unfolding of natural phenomena. Whatever inkling this puma received as it crunched through the spine and devoured the meager carcass, may have initiated a tickle at the tip of its short mountain cat ear.

A wriggling auricle heard an intelligent invitation that broadcasted confrontation within his vast instinctual realm. The mountain lion silently padded off toward a faint vibration, its olfactory organs sensitized to a meat trail, but with his deep primal well feeling ripples of a harmonic overtone.

Schel crawled around the forest floor finding a few stout twigs and hooked deadfall that she would require to set the broken lower leg. She then removed her belt and bandana and carefully slid her foot into a natural clamp shaped twist of a branch. The twigs were about the same length and diameter as her fibula, which she assumed, due to the more lateral orientation of the problem was probable location of damaged collagen fibers.

Her mind held a simple clear preoccupation with positioning herself and staging the few necessary utensils. She would immobilize traumatized calcium phosphate that occupied a relatively non-critical position of her skeletal framework.

City dwellers might describe this event as a painful almost life-threatening incident, but a basic fundamental truth of it was simply nothing more than inconvenience. The sensory signal was only there to remind the recipient to favor or isolate movement at an affected area,…not as an end product of itself.

Schel was a forest creature and her conscious mind blared out its limited singularity of purpose, even as the tiny hairs on the back of her neck stood up straight and pointed directly at the mountain cat.

Some type of frequency at base of the carnivore’s throat signaled some type of receiver at a depth of the girl’s psyche. It fought its way along an ancient corridor, past the smell of leaves and dampness of earth, through a diffuse map of shimmering sunlight, under an audible vibration of birds and bubbling springs, and into her ceaselessly cascading receptacle of consciousness.

Schel was suddenly aware of the cat recognizing her awareness. That was all for the moment, mutual recognition. The girl was much too wise for a hasty reaction and she had not felt any declaration of hunter and hunted. Her hairs settled down and she began applying traction to her leg under a watchful eye. The signal that reminds of injuries appropriately intensified and her barely audible grunt immediately traversed the space between them. It entered the puma’s spiraling inner ear and animated a base instinct that teaches,…to cull injured animals.

He was a larger mature male and had all the physical strength and primitive directive necessary to follow up a rabbit appetizer with a succulent entrée.

Yet how was it possible for anything or anyone to sneak up on a mountain lion in its own territory? The cat was much too wise for a hasty reaction and he had not felt any declaration of hunter or hunted. Hairs on the back of his neck settled down as he caught a glint of copper chest plate at the extreme edge of his peripheral vision.

This was one who had walked with wolves. One who had laid hands upon him as an orphaned cub. One who had made sure that the pack always left scraps when passing the cold isolation of a den with a brother but no mother.

This shaman was also orphaned by his tribe,….or perhaps shunning company of his people for a purity of primal order. This was a sage who also had a brother many years before. They wandered the tracts and explored many dens and hovels introducing themselves to respected elders and new-born pups of a great forest kingdom.

They were not logical in the civilized sense and accepted weather unconditionally with all animals. They slept in adjacent hovels and drank from same springs. They ate leaves like the deer, berries with birds and bears and hunted like cats and with wolves. There was reverence from all creatures in the sounding of the two noises with which they would seek out each other’s attention and company. One noise sounded like Dneipo and he was the one who had gone away. The other noise sounded like Vlad and he was the one watching a cat watch a girl.

Since a time when this one began walking alone, cubs and pups had grown into adulthood. They became aware of sounds that he would grunt out in their presence and eventually related those noises to themselves. This cat knew that the sound that distinguished it from all other creatures was Indi.

Schel pulled back on her confined foot, applying necessary traction and tightly lashed the twigs around her lower leg. Although she felt pangs radiating from the anterior lateral position of her shin, she was very careful not to utter a sound or shudder out any distressing vibration. She carefully unhooked her foot and just lay back to let a traumatized leg relax into its new cradle.

So there they were, Indi and Vlad in recognition of each other and the girl. Schel in recognition of a large mountain cat just behind on a hunter’s perch.

They were three primal beings deep in a Carpathian back country, held by intersecting circumstance and poised in a moment that was not proceeding. That state of being tunes a receptive core to a razor’s edge of possible influence. This extended moment was ripe and in a fulfillment of its purpose, these recipients were suddenly blasted by a chaotic whirlwind of energy.

A supra-nuclear, un-directional maelstrom ripped through the forest,…..rocks, rivers, lakes, animals and themselves on a last passage through its den on the way to a Dark home.

Creatures that travel at closer to the speed of light can be aware of recognize or perhaps even follow such a passage. These three were in that more proximal moment and within their personal abilities they shared an event participation.

Schel felt a bio-emotional sensation of love sweep across the landscape. Her feminine principle knew the warmth in a homecoming and this was similar to the way she felt on those rare visits to the hut of her parents.

Indi knew that his brother had gone far into a Siberian boreal yet that first spontaneous glimpse was of kin. A transition spark is such a fleeting apparition that its simple recognition is awesome and a micro-moment later the puma’s instinct captured, not an essence of biological brother, but a passion of Carpathian brotherhood. That flux was of an energy that for at least a time had resided in that heartland.

Vlad physically dropped to his knees as his spirit soared through a vault of remembrances. It tumbled through underbrush, walked high on a railroad right of way, passed a terrifying right of manhood and skipped across a narrow bridge, suspended over an angry bear. It hugged and wrestled close friends, gulped vodka from old pickle jars and snuck around forest grottos playing endless adolescent jokes.

It takes a shaman of extreme power to take the soul of another with him. The chaos storm barely held recall for that split second but at a threshold of dimensional annihilation, an essence that was Misha had visited its boyhood home. Vlad was swept into the torrent and was assimilated by and into all those remembrances. He followed Misha to a brink, a sill, or an edge and then was unceremoniously dumped back into commonality.

Physical movement of Vlad and corresponding thump of landing on his knees caught the attention of Schel and Indi. They were all back but that previous flash-moment had bonded their Platonic souls within an archetype of shared form.

Schel had begun with her father at about age five and could only remember hunting through about fourteen summer solstices. Legends could not be erased by a mere two decades of planetary wobble. There was too much power in that love story,…at a great ceremony celebrating a passage of manhood Nadia must have burst an elemental barrier. Her feet raced through a thorn berry archway at the village gate and her spirit raced into a vast forest and into the eyes of mountain cats, deer and wolves. Village myth spoke of an inseparable foursome and of a night that a most beautiful gypsy girl had disappeared into the mountains. Nadia had run away from Misha’s destiny and was never again seen by those villagers."

On those cold nights of a new moon when Schel had bundled herself into a bed of spruce bows in a tiny grotto of tree root, she would wonder if perhaps Nadia had been there. When a