Zoltar and the Great Circle

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Fantasy  |  House: Booksie Classic
When I learned about the great circle of a sphere in geometry class, I decided that it sounded like it could be the name of a god, and I had to write a story about it.

Submitted: May 30, 2014

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Submitted: May 30, 2014

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Zoltar and the Great Circle:

Once upon a time there was a divine essence named Zoltar. It was neither vast nor small, here nor there, everywhere nor nowhere; it simply was; and it truly Was. Now, Zoltar was neither solid nor spirit, but at times it would take on solid or spiritual forms. Such an instance was on the verge of creation, when Platinum Daynight the Dead came wandering into Zoltar’s universe. Zoltar took up the form of what would come to be a dragon; and mighty and ferocious that Dragon was.

“Ho, wanderer!” Zoltar shouted in what would come to be The Language. “What brings thee to my universe?”

“I am Platinum Daynight the Dead,” the wanderer said, “and I have been allowed by The Gods of That Which Will Be Earth to create three and a half worlds as they create theirs; and I have, thus far, created two and a half.”

“And what are the names of these Worlds?” asked Zoltar.

“The two Worlds are Jupiter and Neptune, and the half-world is Pluto; they are named after three of The Gods that gave me permission to create these Worlds and a third.”

“But where shall you create?” asked Zoltar. “For there is nowhere to Create but in this Universe, and see, it is already occupied by my Soul.”

“I shall create it here, for thou art not nothing, but thou art not everything, either; therefore this entire universe you do not occupy. There is Space where you are not.”

“But how can I be not if indeed I am?”

“I do not know, but I shall create this World.”

And so Platinum Daynight the Dead took a deep breath and summoned forth the Materials of The World. He pulled and he pushed, he squeezed and he shook, and soon there emerged The World. Zoltar gazed upon it, and he sighed and shook his head. “This is no World,” he said, “for there is no essence.”

“What do you mean?” asked Platinum Daynight the Dead. “I have given it the essence of Being.”

“The essence of Being is, in essence, an essence, but even this World lacks that essence; for it Is, but what is it?”

“It is a World,” said Platinum Daynight the Dead; “it is Here; and it is Existent.”

Zoltar only laughed. “Give to it a true essence.”

Platinum Daynight the Dead puzzled over this for a while, but then he Knew; deep his breaths were, and then something happened deep within the core of The World that even Zoltar could not quite understand; and then The World truly Was. But Zoltar cringed as though he was pained, and Platinum Daynight the Dead concernedly asked, “What is wrong?”

“You are powerful,” said Zoltar, “and the essence of that World is strong; it shall Be forevermore, but I am not sure now that I shall be. This entire universe was once only occupied by one essence—mine—but now there are two others, both just As powerful if not more so. Your and that World’s essence threaten to overpower mine, and I will have no room to Be.” His voice shook and his eyes grew wide and confused, and Zoltar felt the first Fear.

Platinum Daynight the Dead looked upon Zoltar’s frightened face, and thus felt the first Pity. “I shall create for you a Plane,” he said, “and that Plane shall be infinite; there you may reside, and you too shall be Infinite.”

He summoned up the Plane, and it intersected The World at its widest point; “And here is The Great Circle, where the heart of thine essence shall lie.”

“There where the Plane, a flat surface, intersects The World, a sphere, hm, no!” shouted Zoltar. “I’m the freakin’ gosh-diddly darn-it of the sky! I cannot exist in an enclosed space on a flat surface; I must exist in three dimensions, surrounding all but touching None, being all yet not anyone. Please, take you and your planet from out my universe and let me infinitely Be.”

“My planet and I shall not move,” said Platinum Daynight the Dead, “but you still may be Infinite.”

“How?”

“And essence is nothing but that: and essence; and an essence is neither here nor there, but it is both everywhere and nowhere. Your essence can merge with that of this planet, and forever you and it shall be everything and No Thing in The World. For in this universe, you, Zoltar, were once everything; and again you shall be, but you shall be something more.”

“I shall be more than everything?” said Zoltar. “Then merge my essence with that of this World.”

Platinum Daynight the Dead glance at Zoltar’s form, and he said, “Look upon that World; and you and it are one, and everything that ever shall exist on that World shall contain thine essence.:

Zoltar felt nothing, yet he felt different, as though he had been killed thrice and born seven times. “I am one with The World now,” he said. “Now I shall fade my form, and Be elsewhere.” Just like that, the mighty dragon erupted into brilliant flames, which consumed The World for the next Three Thousand Years.

Platinum Daynight the Dead watched, and then he settled down among the cosmos and created life and The Gods. They went through their Existence, and he watched.

Yet there was something strange, something beyond Existence, something even beyond The Divine; the Plane that intersected The World never disappeared, and along it strange things Were. Along the borders of The Great Circle, none could quite know what Was and what Wasn’t, and above, one line contained in the Plane made itself visible and continued on forever, always there but only ever true within the land of never, a land that some call Bellarime; and that was by far the strangest place of all.

There, teladors emerged, and unlike everything else in The World, they were not part of Zoltar’s essence; they were their own essence; and that essence was beyond the realm and standards of The Divine, thus giving them their name: Telapro Dorus, or Telador, meaning simply that: Beyond Divine. It is unknown, though, what truly teladors are: there yet not there, unseen yet clearly visible, unknowing, and yet they Know; and their knowledge is beyond mortal reasoning. They see into souls, they pierce into hearts, tear apart minds, and destroy bodies; No One knows how nor why nor when, but few return from those empty fields, and even fewer return unscathed.

But there are those few that return and are not scathed, but enhanced; these are those in whom the essence of Zoltar lies extremely heavily, those that have their own True essence, but something more; these are the few who truly Are.

Indeed, Zoltar always remained a part of The World, always present in the essence of everything; and it had no form, but at times it would take on a form and exist as a Thing; and at times it would exist as a Living Thing and bend the universe. It cannot be said or writ too many times that they not only Are, but they Are truly; and they marched, and many things Happened.

And Platinum Daynight the Dead was ever watching, and Zoltar was ever Being; and The Great Circle and the teladors were ever beyond mystery. But as Platinum Daynight the Dead observed, he felt something, something that would come to be beyond love and only felt by the Truest: the feeling of Knowing. He sighed and said to the endless lands and the roaring seas and the ever-changing skies, “Although most things are never certain, of this I am certainly certain: some Worlds have no essence, and some Worlds have an essence that has faded or shall fade; but this world has an essence that shall Be forevermore.”

And it was never quite certain just what the world was, but it was; and it truly Was.


© Copyright 2019 J. D. Blood. All rights reserved.

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