Some parts will be password protected because they deal with very sensitive subjects (aka random sex). All entries will be cut.
Prologue: Lies of Truth
The Akashic Records.
The Records of everything that had been thought. It was THE storehouse of concepts, ideas and memories. It was the records of every single, living human being, open to any and all who would access it. Of course, with something this valuable, access was not to be given lightly. The true records were often hidden from plain sight; what most people took to be the truth was often lies. Someone once said that Truth had to be guarded by a bodyguard of Lies.
“And he was not far wrong,” The woman mused, picking up a memory at random. It formed into a scroll, her favourite way of reading for now. “Ah, it was Churchill, but he does not realise that Marrishkesh had said the same thing many years before, and on a different planet too. Individuals at their core are not that much different,” she mused.
“You are here. We have much to accomplish,” her Companion came looking for her, just when she was about to settle in.
“It can wait a moment,” She was curt with him. “I need time to rest as well.”
“We do not need rest. We are infinitely creative,” he hit the spot.
“Yes, but we will fall into complancency if we do not rest once in a while. Or have you forgotten Aiur?”
“Aiur was rightly Judged.”
“Only by our Creations. Does it not shame you that they saw our Mistakes?”
“We have no shame. We are answerable to no one. We are the Divine.”
“The Divine have a responsibility to their creations,” she admonished him gently.
“No, we do not. Only if you so choose.”
“And is choice not a creation of ours?”
“This bores me. I shall go ahead, but do not blame me if you find that you have to catch up when I have finished my duties,” he stormed away. She merely sighed.
“Egos,” she shook her head and went back to the scroll. Still he had a point, and they had a schedule to keep. Putting down the scroll, she let it fade away to its place. With a sigh, she left the Akashic Records, which hummed as her presence disappeared slowly. If there were clouds the tendrils would have clung to her, for she was a much loved person. It took a long time for her presence to dissipate and when it did, there was a collective sigh.