Down the Well

A short excerpt from Destinations – book #7, in the works.

“Thank you, uncle Rolf. Are you okay?” Easter’s hand stumbles upon his hip, her fingers breeze his skin, looking for something to caress, to comfort.

“I am good, Easter. You’re such a candy. Spare yourself for the road ahead.”

The bijou goddess is gone. Yet not behind the doors of the elevator in the central pillar. She just vanished out of thin air, like any worthy goddess would do.

“Oh Lord, Yasu Khrist, Son of God, have mercy on me, worthless Easter. Help me figure out…”

“Figure out what?”

“A way to bring back Mother Rebecca.”

“Bring her back to what?”

“To her senses maybe.”

“She’s well within her senses.”

“Then bring her back to me?”

“For you?”

“And for her.”

“She’s determined to step ahead, not step back.”

“Lord, I’m afraid I know what she is carrying.”

“Don’t you think that I know better than you? And I’m not afraid at all. But you?”

“Oh, I know of what I’m afraid most. Of my fears. Of the abyss I can contemplate ahead. Is this what makes one human?”

“Indeed. This is what made Me human. I had to walk on the precipice Myself. To look down.”

“Did You shiver?”

“I had to. Like I wished to. But My-Self-Ever-Living hold Me from any shudder. I cannot hesitate, no matter how hard I wish to try.”

“But the human experience? The fall? The pain? The passions? Your Passions! The Cross?”

“I often spoke of the Father as He would be another Person than Me. I exercised in believing that I am not the Father. Whom I Am. As We-are-One. You are doing a much better job at imitating My struggle to fall as a human.”

“Why, God?”

“Because you’re another person, like any human would be. A tiny goddess and no God. It is easier for you, from where you are, to talk to Me, everywhere I am.”


“Than for Me to fall from Me.”

“Ah, I see. Mother Rebecca, still.”

“Forget about her.”

“But she is my godmother.”

“And I am your God. Let her go so she may come again.”

“Tell me then.”

“Return to your brother Saturn. He needs your musings. Don’t you think that he is a bit overwhelmed?”

“Think? I know for certain. He finds himself in great distress after the disparition of our natural father, Kronos.”

“What did he tell you?”

“That inertia is all he’s got. And that is running out. Fast.”

“Then go to him and talk to him.”


“Polaris. You’ve been lost in staring at the abyss. So lost that you’ve forgotten how to look at the few stars still up there, on the skies.”

“Thank you, Lord.”

“Run, little thing, run.”


Polaris is nothing like it used to be. The dual system, as seen from below, evaporates to a fine mist, driving sideways, like the four arms of a spiral galaxy, when looked at, down from above.

Saturn welcomes his sister with a kiss and a hug.

“What is this sea we’re stepping on, dear brother?”

“This is the face of the fountain, Easter.”

“What a wonderful name you’ve given it.”

“I give no names. Adam, the name giver, called it the face of the fountain.”

“Let me see,” Little Easter begins the browsing process, “Adam this, Adam that, oh no, not that Adam, this one?, ah, rather this, hmm… well, no, no, no again, this?, or this? I’ve got only one Adam left in the backups.”

“That one!” Marks Saturn.

“Before being granted the curve of an Eve, this man saw and named everything around.”

“Everything that we can sense and fathom, sis. Have you noticed that all men have had a woman prior to their own entry? But Adam.”

“What an interesting observation. Thanks to you, I have noticed, now. What is with those clouds?, shadowing us.”

“Those are no clouds but giants.”

“Really? Someone’s walking on top of the universe?”

“Yes, you, me and our step brothers and sisters. Look at them!”

Kind of scared, Easter stares through the white light, making an effort to discern among the shadows.

“Identify yourselves, guardians of the well, by your given names,” thunders a choir of voices from above.

“Easter is my given name. I am Easter, last daughter of Astarte and first daughter of Kronos. Saturn is my twin brother’s given name. He is Saturn, last son of Astarte and first son of Kronos. And you are?”

“We are Legions!”

“What are you here for, Legions?”

“We are here to claim our mother’s freedom.”

“Who is your mother?”

“Our mother is Astarte, the primordial woman, made by the hand of Enoch.”

“Astarte is dead. I speak for her.”

“You are so little.”

“And you listen to me. Claim what you wish to claim but sit!”


“Move not. You are well where you are, as you are.”

“We are walking on the face of the fountain.”

“Now stop walking, find a place to sit and watch. And listen!”

“Listen to who? To you? Easter, last daughter of Astarte?”

“You are already listening to me. And that is good for you. Now listen to Enoch, the maker of our mother.”

A square-based pyramid brings golden hues over the face of the fountain. “Hear the voice of your mother’s maker, Legions, and fear my presence or die.” The giant clouds shadow no more as they descend, one by one, to touch the face of the fountain. Every shade that drinks of the fountain turns into a rising silhouette, which grows up to thirty-six meters above the surface. Then it kneels. A sea of grey heads bowing around the pyramid.

Easter and Saturn stand, as they were, in admiration. The voice speaks again. “Astarte lived to be free. She loved you in her own ways. Her life has been taken by the instruments and schemes devised by your abysmal father, her first born. You can only revenge your mother by doing what your father had seeded in you. You may, if you wish.”

“We may, if we wish,” responds the sea of bowing heads.

“Do you wish to?,” asks the voice.

“Do we wish to?,” answers the sea.

“I will speak for all of you!” Easter perfects her voice. “I beg the maker of our mother and I pray to his Maker, to The One that also made Kronos, my father, and Adam after that. I beg and pray and then I say to you, Legions, stand down, stay kneeling, open your eyes and watch through the depths of the fountain. Open your eyes to see, open your ears to hear, because lightnings and thunders will show many ways and will clear even more paths for your minds to learn. At the end of it, you will be asked again. Not by me, nor by Enoch. Keep your answers for that moment. Live and learn to know the answers right. Do as I say to you now!”

She turns to face the pyramid and nods. The pyramid takes the gold out of sight. She walks in circles, around the spot previously occupied by the pyramid, the spot above Polaris, the spot next to her twin brother.

“You did buy me some precious time,” smirks Saturn. “What now, dear sis?”

“Let me finish, little brother. Two more rounds to make sure that all Legions are frozen.”

“They are. Look here: zero Kelvin.”

“You and your digits.”

“What now, sister?”

“We follow Enoch!”


“You can’t sense him?”

“Nope. Unless you enlighten me.”

“There, down the well. Down to earth.”


To get the prequels, click on to my Amazon page.

Photo by Manu Schwendener on Unsplash

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