Navigator, Chapter 18 – A Sunday Story

Posted bySuzette BenjaminPosted inPoetry
Image credit: © LovePik

Chapter 18

The embodiment of all evil (Baphomet) rode like an advancing hailstorm toward Isabella (Navigator). His gleaming white Arabian steed raced with precision hooves.

Tossing its ancient well-formed equidaen (ancient horse breed, primogenitors of modern-day equines) head in response to Bephomet’s gentle nudge with his left heel, incredibly, his horse increased its already swift and spirited gallop.

Its form and speed spoke well of the horse’s royal breeding from antiquity’s princely stables of Eber Nari (modern Syria) that birthed the original bloodline of the great Darley Arabian, sire of Secretariat and Northern Dancer.

The ancient horse, sped, his hooves almost not touching the ground. His gait was akin to his future bloodlines’ speed as they rounded the bend at the Preakness Stakes, outclassing the finest equines to the finish line, and into Triple Crown horse racing history.

Staring in deep thought at Baphomet on his white horse advancing at what seemed lightning speed, Isabella’s mind galloped.

She noted that one of Baphomet’s hands wore the giant gilded gauntlet that had smashed the protective bubble with her and Metty (her guardian angel) inside hours earlier back in Shangri La. The same massive gilded gauntlet, she had been led to believe that she had vanquished.

Proof positive, Isabella mused to herself that Baphomet was behind this whole charade. But why, and for what purpose did he go to such lengths?

Snapping her thoughts back to the peril at hand, Isabella remembered her late grandmother’s earlier warning:

“Be careful of your words in this place, little one. Nothing is as it seems.”

Isabella had noticed that her words thus far seemed to have “created” her experiences in this strange land, wherever she was.

As if to further snap her out of her musings, Isabella’s flaming sword, which she carried about in her half-human half-angel blood stream materialized. Then it swooshed off into the darkness nearby.

Isabella understood why the sword “behaved” in that manner. Whatever words she chose next were all on her. Her flaming sword could not interfere…yet.

In a flash of inspiration, Isabella remembered that the twenty-eight so-called gentlemen in freshly pressed suites around the boardroom table back in Shangri-La seemed to imply that “the powers that be” were beholding to her warrior ancestors.

Isabella reasoned that since the twenty-eight men in the boardroom in Shangri La appeared to be lying about…well, everything (who they were, her “death,” and their part in sealing The Door she had opened with an incantation to save her life); she had a suspicion that they did not want her to involve her ancestors.

Therefore, Isabella said out loud:

“Ancestors from all times and dimensions, arise, please help me!”

Suddenly…

…a great cloud like a pending storm appeared overhead engulfing everything within sight. Isabella could see the great cloud, Baphomet looked up startled for a moment; then shrugged his hefty shoulders and continued his hasty advance on his white steed.

But his horde of fallen angels that had followed him on their horses suddenly broke ranks and scattered screaming in terror.

As the cloud lowered, the tundra created a great and strange mist over the moors —

Out of the mist marched a great army, seventeen thousand two hundred mighty men and women of valor from way back in Isabella’s bloodline.

Her ancestors were dressed in battle gear and armed with iridium swords. Their faces glowing blueish white obscured their exact features.

They advanced determined out of the mist created by the great cloud, each with swords raised, ready for battle. The force of their movements created a strong wind swirling around Isabella.

Isabella’s ancestors took their positions with swords in hand and arranged themselves in rows of thousands by their lineage behind her. Her flaming sword swooshed into her hand from out of the shadows.

And then there was stillness for about five minutes…

An eerie silence charged the atmosphere seeking words that were not forthcoming to fill its void from anyone present.

But, no one spoke.

And then, Baphomet charged forward. His white steed appeared to fly without wings, at its top speed.

At the sight of the flaming sword with Isabella as its hilt, Baphomet’s white steed reared up its hind legs and screeched to a halt refusing to go any further.

The jolt landed Baphomet on his hindquarters sprawled on the ground. His six-meter frame landed with a tremendous thud. The solid gold triangle necklace with the eye of Osiris and the massive fist gauntlet he carried whacked him in the face, unceremoniously.

Isabella noted as the massive gauntlet jettisoned from Baphomet‘s right arm, that his right hand was missing. A bracelet of gold encircled his wrist at the point where his apparently missing appendage should have resided.

Then Baphomet, still sprawled on the ground, vanished.

His fine white steed galloped off into the distance, away from Isabella and her ancestral army still at the ready watching her back.

Isabella turned to her ancestors, their faces all gleaming and glowing bluish-white. She thanked them from her heart without words for their sacrifices unto death, and for coming to her aid. They replied vocally in perfect unison:

“We are always with you, Isabella. Know that you are not alone. And, remember, you are protected.”

And then the great cloud that witnessed their arrival lifted Isabella’s ancestors back into the heavens and disappeared after a few moments hovering overhead.

Determined to get to the bottom of all the trickery that had befallen her. Isabella spoke out loud: “Shangri-la!”

In the next moment…

Isabella was back in the boardroom with the twenty-eight men in their freshly pressed suits around the table. Metty was bound in his seat fastened by primordial chains.

With speed, she did not know she possessed Isabella lept on the massive acacia table…

Without a word, Isabella crouched ninja-style, as low as she could atop the table. And in one move spinning her body 360 degrees without stopping until the deed was done…

Her flaming sword cut down all twenty-eight severing them in half, at their chests, before they even knew she was in the room.

She ended her spinning move by gently severing the chains binding Metty. His chains clanked on the table and bits fell to the floor clattering.

Each one of the twenty-eight men in their pressed embroidered suits startled expression registered as their last unspoken word, as their severed torsos with their heads attached slumped one at a time onto the acacia boardroom table.

Oddly, the table was not covered in blood but, in some strange blue liquid glowing white light that oozed from the twenty-eight’s severed bodies.

Then…

Baphomet appeared.

He walked through the wall on Isabella’s right. He looked at the severed bodies and outstretched his right arm (the gilded gauntlet was no longer present.)

At that moment…

The bluish ooze that had emanated from the severed torses of the twenty-eight men in embroidered suits around the boardroom table suddenly consumed the severed remains and molded…

…into Baphomet’s missing hand!

Not one to be alarmed easily, Isabella was aghast at the sight of the apparent beyond-earthly dimension, super elevated necromancy it would take to accomplish what she had just witnessed.

The twenty-seven joints of Baphomet’s right hand had assembled smartly into a living hand as if someone had stitched it super fast with invisible thread. His “repatriated” hand looked humanoid, except his middle finger appeared to have an extra joint.

The reason became obvious as he plucked the gilded gauntlet from the ether somewhere in another dimension of space and time directly onto his right hand.

His middle elongated finger fit securely in the hilt of the small blade crafted into the gilded gauntlet.

Then, in an instant, Baphomet uplifted the gilded gauntlet on his right-hand ready to strike Isabella (or so he made it seem)…

Still crouched on the acacia boardroom table, Isabella readied her flaming sword to defend herself…

But, before Isabella or Metty (now freed from his chains) realized what was about to transpire, Baphomet vanished from Isabella’s right side and reappeared instantly behind Metty…

Without warning, Metty suffered a crushing blow from Bephomet’s gauntlet…his body slumped to the boardroom floor…

***To Be Continued Next Sunday****

Previous Chapters:

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapters 15 & 16 Chapter 17

Published by Suzette Benjamin

Positive thinker, inspirational, writer, faith

75 thoughts on “Navigator, Chapter 18 – A Sunday Story”

  2. Astonishing! Was the intervention of the ancestors enough? What will be Isabella’s next move? I’ll have to wait for the next thrilling instalment. Such a thrilled pack adventure. Great writing My Friend.

    Liked by 1 person

  4. 🐎Its form and speed spoke well of the horse’s royal breeding from antiquity’s princely stables of Eber Nari (modern Syria) that birthed the original bloodline of the great Darley Arabian, sire of Secretariat and Northern Dancer.🐎

    Oh awesomeness, tracing the bloodline of a horse’s royal breeding but alas I, I who have nothing must adore you and know not mine 😢😂.

    Fascinating

    Liked by 1 person

  5. 🐎The ancient horse, sped, his hooves almost not touching the ground. His gait was akin to his future bloodlines’ speed as they rounded the bend at the Preakness Stakes, outclassing the finest equines to the finish line, and into Triple Crown horse racing history.🐎

    Well it is great to get a clear picture with this background information “The Preakness Stakes is an American thoroughbred horse race held on Armed Forces Day which is also the third Saturday in May each year at Pimlico Race Course in Baltimore, Maryland. It is a Grade I race run over a distance of 9.5 furlongs on dirt”

    “The Kentucky Derby (first run in 1875), the Preakness Stakes (1873) and the Belmont Stakes (1867) make up the Triple Crown series for 3-year-old thoroughbreds.”

    Very interesting. We have the very same passion for thoroughbred breeding and horseracing in my country. The stakes are huge.

    And I also got to know more about Thomas Darley, who shipped a 4 year old stallion to England from Syria, who who took on the name Darley Arabian.

    When I find the time I should catch some more reading.

    Liked by 1 person

      1. I did, this paragraph spiked my curiosity and I’m in awe of what I found.
        I use to take a keen interest in horse-racing and the tote when I was young. I have lost touch.

        Liked by 1 person

  6. 🐎Isabella’s mind galloped.🐎

    Lol, like Darley Arabian hooves

    🐎Proof positive, Isabella mused to herself that Baphomet was behind this whole charade. But why, and for what purpose did he go to such lengths?🐎

    The Father of paganism has an agenda, most definitely.

    Liked by 1 person

  7. 🐎Isabella had noticed that her words thus far seemed to have “created” her experiences in this strange land, wherever she was.🐎

    Only dawned on her now?

    Then it swooshed off into the darkness nearby.

    🐎Isabella understood why the sword “behaved” in that manner. Whatever words she chose next were all on her. Her flaming sword could not interfere…yet.🐎

    A question of choices and no tampering with free will

    Liked by 1 person

  9. 🐎Therefore, Isabella said out loud:

    “Ancestors from all times and dimensions, arise, please help me!”🐎

    Ah, so yes, this is the bloodline and army the false knights fear?

    🐎But his horde of fallen angels that had followed him on their horses suddenly broke ranks and scattered screaming in terror.🐎

    They trembled at their own rebellion

    🐎As the cloud lowered, the tundra created a great and strange mist over the moors —🐎

    Oh wow just look at the icy role the tundra came to play, lightly freezing up the moors.

    🐎Out of the mist marched a great army, seventeen thousand two hundred mighty men and women of valor from way back in Isabella’s bloodline.🐎

    My goodness talk about angels encompassing, encircled by a wall of fire

    🐎Her ancestors were dressed in battle gear and armed with iridium swords. Their faces glowing blueish white obscured their exact features.🐎

    The atomic number 77. 
    Blue and white as in the movie avatar?

    🐎Isabella’s ancestors took their positions with swords and arranged themselves in rows of thousands by their lineage behind her. Her flaming sword swooshed into her hand from out of the shadows.🐎

    This is a magnificent sight. I wonder which music accompanied the scene. Imagine, imagine just thinking about it, having such a great army who got your back.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Yes, this is the army, the forces of darkness fear, for sure.
      Well said “trembling” at their own folly
      Glad, you enjoyed the imagery the land plays. Mother Earth is a warrior, too… Sometimes one forgets that.
      Right on!! Encompassed by a cloud of “witnessess”…ancestors, in this case, and more than witnesses.
      Atomic #77 indeed, it is. And of course, the significance of the number “7”
      Bluish light, experts claim, is seen when our eyes try to interpret colors outside the spectrum of human eyesight’s capability.
      Music…now that’s a great question!!

      Liked by 1 person

      1. Folly is the proper word 👌 👏 yes

        Oh I couldn’t agree with you more, Mother Earth responds and sometimes she groans and shake.

        Ah, I see, thank you. The reason and description of the colour makes sense to me.

        Lol, in that moment a great opera or classic stirred up in me.
        A hymn.

        Liked by 1 person

  10. 🐎An eerie silence charged the atmosphere seeking words that were not forthcoming to fill its void from anyone present.🐎

    This is such a great paragraph, laying bare, the power of silence.

    Liked by 1 person

  11. 🐎At the sight of the flaming sword with Isabella as its hilt, Baphomet’s white steed reared up its hind legs and screeched to a halt refusing to go any further.🐎

    Sword glowing with power, the thoroughbred immediately felt it and backed off.
    I can see animal on its hindlegs quivering, decisively.

    🐎The jolt landed Baphomet on his hindquarters sprawled on the ground. His six-meter frame landed with a tremendous thud. The solid gold triangle necklace with the eye of Osiris and the massive fist gauntlet he carried whacked him in the face, unceremoniously.🐎

    Haha that was funny seeing the “king”of the aimless world knocked over by his symbols of power.
    Complicit in his downfall.

    🐎His fine white steed galloped off into the distance, away from Isabella and her ancestral army still at the ready watching her back.🐎

    Fight or flight-
    His own bloodline not prepared to go into battle with Isabella’s thoroughbred bloodline.

    🐎We are always with you, Isabella. Know that you are not alone. And, remember, you are protected.”🐎

    Imagine having this privilege to hear these voices of old. You must surely have a wide open mind and heart.
    Such knowledge and understanding is installed and preserved with a great sense of belief and courage.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Yes, right you are. The horse knows this is not its fight.

      Well said!! Complicit…perfect word!!

      Magnificent discernment as always. I like how you “saw” the reference to bloodlines in both species. Well spotted.

      A wonderful reflection “belief and courage”. Thank you!!

      Liked by 1 person

  12. 🐎Determined to get to the bottom of all the trickery that had befallen her. Isabella spoke out loud: “Shangri-la!”🐎

    Back to earthly affairs

    🐎With speed, she did not know she possessed Isabella lept on the massive acacia table…🐎

    And supernaturally transported once more. I gather by the stealth, lightness and swiftness of her movements. Ninja for real.

    Liked by 1 person

  13. 🐎Without a word, Isabella crouched ninja-style, as low as she could atop the table. And in one move spinning her body 360 degrees without stopping until the deed was done…🐎

    Yes I knew it, now clothed in the fighting spirit of the ninja, freshly empowered by the words of her ancester warriors

    🐎Her flaming sword cut down all twenty-eight severing them in half, at their chests, before they even knew she was in the room.

    She ended her spinning move by gently severing the chains binding Metty. His chains clanked on the table and bits fell to the floor clattering.🐎

    Classic, there is no other way, not one head left unturned.
    And the rescue!!!

    Love how the chains dropped and Metty was unshackled

    For a moment the feeling of the wild west gripped me

    Liked by 1 person

  14. 🐎Each one of the twenty-eight men in their pressed embroidered suits startled expression registered as their last unspoken word, as their severed torsos with their heads attached slumped one at a time onto the acacia boardroom table.🐎

    Terrific
    Speechless
    Hushed not a word
    Expression says it all.
    👏👏👏👏👏👏

    🐎At that moment…

    The bluish ooze that had emanated from the severed torses of the twenty-eight men in embroidered suits around the boardroom table suddenly consumed the severed remains and molded…

    …into Baphomet’s missing hand!🐎

    What, well they were always one voice, never 28 unique, but illusionary knights?

    🐎Isabella was aghast at the sight of the apparent beyond-earthly dimension, super elevated necromancy it would take to accomplish what she had just witnessed.🐎

    Oh absolute, I’m sure I would’ve frozen right there, aghast.

    🐎The twenty-seven joints of Baphomet’s right hand had assembled smartly into a living hand as if someone had stitched it super fast with invisible thread. His “repatriated” hand looked humanoid, except his middle finger appeared to have an extra joint.🐎

    Oh my golly the twenty seven joints always belonged to him
    Am I seeing things?

    🐎Then, in an instant, Baphomet uplifted the gilded gauntlet on his right-hand ready to strike Isabella (or so he made it seem)…

    Still crouched on the acacia boardroom table, Isabella readied her flaming sword to defend herself…🐎

    Ahaaa, he has another target first in mind…

    🐎But, before Isabella or Metty (now freed from his chains) realized what was about to transpire, Baphomet vanished from Isabella’s right side and reappeared instantly behind Metty…

    Without warning, Metty suffered a crushing blow from Bephomet’s gauntlet…his body slumped to the boardroom floor…🐎

    So he is on a mission to go back in time to kill off the real prophets.

    Well whichever direction we are going, this chapter produced the most amazing heavenly and earthly scenes and dialogue

    The battle between good and evil is not done.
    Thrilling
    Excellent 👏👏👏👏

    Like

    1. Regarding “terrific…speechless…”
      Yes, silence is a theme in this chapter. Well spotted.

      Yes!! Illusory indeed!!

      Yes, I would be shocked too and frozen!! Yikes!!

      No, you are not seeing things. The 28 are the 27 +1 joints of Baphomet’s real right hand!!

      Yes, the sly one (Baphomet) had another target in mind…illusions continue.

      Glad you enjoyed the battle of realms and of ancestral bloodlines coming to the for.

      More to come…

      Thank you for your round of applause and fervent support. I truly appreciate you!
      Deep blessings on this Sunday to you!!

      Liked by 1 person

      1. Ah, I’m happy I understood this chapter.
        I felt all of these which you presented here, the major battles, the horses, their characters and their riders vividly portrayed.

        You are welcome, thank you for presenting us with a literary feast this Sunday.
        Thank you, deep blessings too.

        Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you Rebecca. I am glad that you enjoyed the ancestral army coming to her aid. Horse history is fabulous, especially the lineage of the great ones
      And yes, the villain has quite the hand…more to come..

      Liked by 1 person

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