The Awakening
Chapter 1
At the very dawn of time God created seven levels of existence that he separated into two
universes. The three upper planes consisting of countless billions of planets formed the Spiritual
Universe and the four lower planes became the Material Universe. Then he created the angels who
filled the upper planes and when the mists cleared he created man to dwell throughout the lower
planes. In his loneliness these entities offered solace to his being and in return his love for them
knew no bounds.
But all was not well! Lucifer, the brightest of the over lighting angels challenged God’s right to
reign supreme, that he instead should rule the Spiritual Universe. And so a great war broke out
in heaven! On only the first day the seraph Abdiel overcame Lucifer’s chief lieutenant Ariel and
the defeat of the rebel angels soon followed. At the battle’s conclusion God issued a stern
warning: if there were ever another insurrection their destruction would surely come about.
Brought to justice Lucifer, cast out from heaven was condemned to live in a netherworld across
Chaos, a place God turned his face from. It was fitting this fallen angel should be the master of
these infernal regions.
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The year is 1951 on a cold winter’s night in the town of Brunlea, Lancashire, England,
where daylight fades over distant hills and dusk descends on a landscape of tall factory chimneys
and cobbled streets. Snow-covered roofs of terraced houses glisten under a full moon and the
wrought iron gas lamps below burst into flame.
In the living room of a terraced house Jack and Winifred sit beside a coal fire listening to a
wireless as their daughter Maureen, the eldest of six siblings reads a magazine. Her younger
fourteen year old brother Proteus occupied himself with a book. During Winifred’s second
pregnancy a name constantly filled her thoughts and against her husband’s wishes she had
christened her baby with a title unknown to them both, a strange sounding title for an English
boy. Perhaps some hidden knowledge of Greek literature swayed her choice! Even at his age
Proteus still loved to play with the lead soldiers he’d been given every Christmas as presents, but
sadly he’d become too old for that sort of thing. Yet he still yearned for the battles he fought
with his small army.
Deciding the book wasn’t to his liking Proteus took a box of lead soldiers into the empty front
parlour where another fire burned brightly in the hearth. There were no carpets on the wooden
floor and the furniture consisted of just a sideboard and two fireside chairs; the walls lay bare but
for the distemper that had been dabbed upon them. Proteus pushed back both armchairs
completely unaware his play was in preparation of things to come and assembling two opposing
armies in front of the fireplace a battle broke out between his lines of pristine lead soldiers.
His younger siblings had been in bed for some time when Winifred called out. “Bedtime
Proteus.”
His army stood firm against an enemy on the brink of defeat
“Not just yet Mam.”
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“Now Proteus.”
“It’s not fair, Maureen’s still up”.
“She’s older than you.”
Lighting his way with a candle he made his way upstairs and entered his bedroom where a
clock ticked relentlessly on a table beside his bed, a relentless sound that couldn’t be ignored.
Crawling between the cold sheets he though hard upon a character from his past, someone he
couldn’t recall who hovered just out of reach in a place he knew so well. He’d done this many
times without success and so snuggling deeper into the pillow his thoughts turned to religion.
After his overthrow Lucifer still laid claim to the throne of heaven, something the nuns taught
Proteus at infant school. Yet the nuns had continued. “Because God is all powerful good will
prevail over evil.”
“If that’s true,” Proteus thought. “With the outcome already ordained the struggle is just a
formality. So why does this battle take place?”
Teetering on the brink of sleep the door to his subconscious opened and the answer came to him!
‘The throne of God is unassailable. Lucifer can never conquer the Spiritual universe. However
the Material Universe is ready to fall!’ It was unclear how he’d obtained this information. Could
it be the small voice within the nuns had spoken of?
Sleep gradually overtook him but before long he awoke with a start and sat upright in bed. He
heard the reassuring voices of his parents downstairs but the shadows dancing on his bedroom
wall cast by a flickering gas lamp in the street alarmed him. Settling deeper into the covers his
apprehension only grew; he knew something was about to happen! Then, without warning he
rose from the bed and hovering horizontally two feet above its length slowly turned into an
upright position. At that point, seeing a counterpart of his self sleeping soundly between the
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sheets he grabbed the bed rail shouted out in alarm as his fingers passed straight through the
metal. His body had no substance!
Jack poked the coal fire causing the embers to glow a bright red and then settled back into his
easy chair. “I’ve been thinking on what you said about Proteus,” he said. “The lad does spend
much of his time indoors either reading or with his soldiers. He should be outside playing
football or cricket with lads of his own age.”
Winifred responded thoughtfully. “You also mentioned it’s something he’d grow out of.”
Jack nodded his head in agreement. “I suppose,” he said.
The conversation ended when a loud cry came from a room above causing Jack to rise from his
chair. “That’s Proteus,” he said. He’s not one for nightmares.”
Followed by Winifred, he made his way up the stairs and found his son fast asleep.
“He probably had a bad dream. But he seems alright now,” Jack said, adjusting the covers. “We
best let him sleep.”
But Winifred ignored her husband. “Jack, she said urgently. “He’s hardly breathing!”
Jack took a closer look at the boy. “You’re right Win,” he said looking concerned. He then
grabbed Proteus by the shoulders and shaking him vigorously called to the still figure of his son.
“Wake up, wake up lad.”
A silvery cord attached to Proteus’s navel was also attached to the navel of a lifeless body on
the bed. His astral body had separated from his corporal body! But with no control over what
was happening Proteus could only watch. Suddenly an obscure vision from the past seared into
his head. How could he have ever forgotten who he was?
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