the White Stone - Page 75



the White Stone
page 75
THE PRACTICE OF SACRAMENT FOR SOULS OF THE DEAD
An advanced practice.
I
was walking with a companion down a corridor, all around me was in
deep shadow. After a while we came to an opening and before us was
a vast and open plain. All around was blackness and the broken and fallen spirits
of the dead, all in rigid and restless sleep. The quality of their existence was
brittle. Some had broken wings. The sky, such as it was, was all black. All the
souls were black. They seemed to be in sleep, a sleep of despair for there was
nowhere to go, no hope of any kind.
I was not sure what to do. We needed to do something. We were required to do
something. I thought to send the light of the White Stone high into the sky, like
a flare on a battleground. But then they would come after us and we would need
to run. Run where? How fast? Such indeed was the mood of this place, a huge
and endless field of death.
You are here with me now, before this wide and open field of death. What are
we going to do together for the lost spirits?

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