Belt Of Orion: 'The Real INSIDE Story!':
What is size? Does it matter?
The answer is, YES it does.
From a minute Amoeba under a Microscope, to going down a Rabbit Hole in a wooded Vale. To a loop in a Time/Space Continuum, to the over-riding Mass of a Cosmic Black Hole; slowly warping Time and Space to devour a Galaxy...one Star and its Solar System at a time.
This is the Introduction to an astounding Story. The Real Inside Story of 'Belt Of Orion'.
It was a rainy night in the London (England) Greenwich Foot Tunnel where a man, a Musician and a Guitarist called Mike Parris was about to commence his Usual Ritual of that of a Busker. He had found a spot in the Tunnel that was suitable to set up a small Stool , drop his Cap for Coins, and began considering the people that the evening’s rain will 'wash' through his Foot Tunnel before he decided which side of the wall to set up his position against. The similarity of the Tunnel to that of a Rabbit Warren struck him, as he watched Commuters dodge and dart in a mixture of trying to get someplace, and trying to stay dry? One way or another it was time to start Busking the night away, often for little more than Pennies on a bad night. Mike grew tired of the thankless Role he had of playing for the occasional gratitude from the endless ranks of hurrying passersby. He realized this had to end and find a new phase --Mike needed to Travel...travel far, far away. His mind wandered randomly, as he automatically began to play and make eye contact with the passersby, as they either chose to ignore Mike on their way home, or stopped to pity him and dropped a few Coins into his Hat at his feet. Time passed, and Mike grew Colder by the Minute. It was a usual night’s Haul of perhaps Ten Pounds all told. It is better to change up his time in this Tunnel as new Passers by would not know him if he staggered his times inside this Tunnel. He reasoned if he became too familiar for the same Public, he would be ignored even more. After perhaps the passage of Three Hours, he had enough. It was time to call it a night as Mike was beginning to feel Hunger pangs. He swiftly put down his Guitar, picked up his Hat, counted the Cash, and folded up his small stool. He bade farewell to the Tunnel and began his lonely walk homewards.
The next night, and another rainy evening at that, as his usual practice Mike was setting up his station in the same location in the Tunnel to begin another night of busking. This night, the Greenwich Foot Tunnel seemed damper and darker than the previous Night. Mike pondered the design of this old Tunnel and the many Tons of Water flowing silently above his Head. Although he did not know it yet, a Scene was to unfold that would seem plucked from the pages of an Ancient Tale. The normal crowd had noticeably slackened in numbers due to a later start for Mike than normal-- Mike figured it would be a lean night's efforts as far as earning any coins would go. As he settled onto a collapsable stool he carried and taking off his Black and weathered Cap to toss onto the cold cement floor at his feet—to catch the evening’s offerings, he settled in. He sat down and began tuning his Guitar. Mike Parris, the lone Guitarist, perched on his Stool, Strings tuned and fingers poised, ready to weave melodies into to the damp air. He had brought his Guitar Case tonight and as an after thought, he flipped his Hat into it. His Guitar case lay open to the air. Its hollow interior awaiting the Coins of the passing Public.
But Fate had other plans. A sudden shift in the Tunnel’s atmosphere alerted Mike- a subtle change in the Air pressure, perhaps, or the distant echo of footsteps. His solitude shattered; he looked far down the Tunnel to the source of this disruption. It was at that point he noticed emerging from the Shadows in the poorer lighting an odd Light flickering and reflecting off the walls and slowly approaching him from further down the Tunnel. Was it a Flashlight that was coming towards him? Or a Beacon pointing to a New World? Materializing from the dim recesses before him, a mysterious Figure emerged. It hadn't occurred to Mike that the Tunnel was now completely devoid of any other people but for the Light, gradually getting closer, brighter, and illuminating all that was around him. He watched as the Light revealed the figure of a Man. A man who seemed to be wrapped in a tattered and dark Cloak- its Hood pulled low over his Face. This man’s Cloak had a matching Hood which covered his head, and the appearance of a flowing white Beard extending down from his Jaw. Was he a Wizard, a Mage, or something altogether stranger? The Fabric clung to him like memories etched into ancient parchment, its edges frayed and worn by time. The Cloak’s hue was indistinct, as if it had absorbed the secrets of countless nights. What was to happen next was an experience destined to blow Mike’s Mind........for this was no ordinary Man and no ordinary Light.
In the mysterious figure’s grasp, a Lantern swung- a curious artifact with four sides, each pane revealing a different facet of eerie Light. The glow danced across the Tunnel’s arched roof, illuminating the damp Tilework. Occasional Bulbs flickered overhead, casting fleeting shadows that merged with the folds of the cloak. This Wizard shuffled forward, his gait deliberate and unsettling. As he drew closer, Mike could see that he wore Boots that had once been sturdy, but now seemed to bear the scars of countless journeys. Their soles whispered Tales of forgotten paths, of realms beyond the mundane. As he drew nearer, Mike glimpsed the Man’s face- a Map of wrinkled etched by Centuries, eye sockets like ancient Constellations. But NO Eyes? Was he a Blind Man?
The mysterious stranger held outstretched in his left Arm, that strange Lantern, which slowly swayed with the motion of the Stranger's movements, like that of a Hypnotist's Pendulum. As the Figure approached, the Light from the Lantern had now begun to change, to give off a softer and more warming glow than that of its previous intensity. The nearing Stranger's Lantern now dimmed further as he closed upon Mike, bathing them both in a soft luminescence. The whole Scene seemed completely surreal to Mike Parris ...very strange indeed. The Guitarist’s fingers trembled against his Strings. The mysterious stranger’s intent remained unclear. Was he friend or foe? His Lantern held secrets, it’s Light revealing glimpses of forgotten spells, lost loves, and whispered bargains trapped inside a star-studded night. And so, in that Rain-dampened Tunnel, Mike Parris faced a choice: to continue his busking, melodies echoing against the cold stone walls, or to yield to the pull of ancient Magic, to join the mysterious figure on a journey beyond time and reason. The air thickened with anticipation. The Wizard’s eyeless gaze bore into Mike’s soul, and the arched roof seemed to lean closer, listening for the chords that would shape their fate.
In the heart of London’s underbelly, where the River Thames flowed unseen, two worlds collided-that of a Guitarist and that of a cloaked wanderer-bound by the music of raindrops and the promise of forgotten enchantments. And as the Lantern’s light wove patterns on the Tunnel walls, Mike wondered if he would emerge from this encounter unchanged, or if the echoes of ancient spells would linger in his fingertips forevermore. Mike Parris would be shown a Vision of an Amazing Future. He soon discovered he would become a 'Man out of Time'.
Nervously he spoke.
"How are you tonight, Sir?" was all Mike could muster up; maybe not the best thing to say -- but small-talk it had to be.
He added, "I am about to start a Song; would you care to listen?"
The Stranger now stood before Mike and slowly began to raise his Head to reveal a wizened and ancient-looking Face. A Face creased like a contour Map of a Mountain; he predictably did not answer. Mike was startled when he looked at the Man's face and saw that his Eyes were, well, missing--the Skin of his Eyelids pulled into the centers where his Eyeballs once were!
He is Blind, yet he can see!? He obviously must rely upon Hearing and other senses as these must be very heightened. He is some kind of a Mage or Wizard?
Suddenly, Mike heard a command telling him to investigate the Lantern's crystalline front.
["LOOK CLOSER!"]… A Voice in Mike’s consciousness boomed. This was not a spoken Voice that he heard, but a Voice inside of his Head. Not unlike that of a God. This was not a request, but an Order to Obey. Instinctively, his Will to resist to this Command was strong, as this was all a very bizarre situation indeed. But Mike taking his eyes off the Mage's face and looking at the Lantern, could already see shimmering colors and animated shapes that appeared to be 'Alive' inside the Lantern's frontal face. He felt powerless and under some sort of control, and besides, his curiosity burned to take a closer look now. Feeling strangely at ease, Mike seemed unable to resist this urge. He leaned forward and beheld a miniature world of wonder. For there before his eyes Mike saw what seemed to be a Spiral Galaxy slowly rotating in the middle foreground of a backdrop of colors which were transitioning through all the known shades seen to the eyes of Mankind. In front of this rotating Galaxy there appeared to be what looked like floating Orchid-shaped Creatures of bright Yellows, Reds, and Blue hues?
"WOW! Straaange!", was all Mike could conjure up at that moment.
...["CLOSER!']. Again, the Voice inside of his head boomed.
Now alarmed, Mike stepped back...
"What is this? WHAT are you?", saying in surprise.
Voiceless the Mage replies.
["There is more, much more- look and behold!"]..Now quieter and calmingly.
With this, the Lantern started to rotate to a second windowpane.
Astonishingly, Mike can see People in different clothing, and they grow larger and then smaller, as if floating inside the Lantern and coming forward then receding backwards.
He moves a bit closer again to get a better look inside. They also seem to be clear one moment, then lose focus , only to re-focus clearer once more. Moving at different times...whilst being dressed in periodic clothing!?
" What is all this, a Picture show trick?" he says.
The Mage now speaks.
"Past Lives...in past Places and Ages.. you're looking into the Faces of History!”..
The Lantern yet turns again to it's third Pane.
Mike now finds himself staring at a mirrored surface that should contain his reflection, but his image is missing. He cannot decide what surprises him more, the Mage Talking finally-or the absence of any reflection of himself? Curiously, he looks closer still...
Then in an instant his Face appears in the Pane--just his Face--then seems to move up, down and inside the edges of the Pane- his Head is dis-articulated from the rest of his Body!?
" I don't like this side at all! Why am I floating about and where is the rest of my body?", is all he can think to ask.
"This is a Reflection of your Soul", the Mage replied.
Mike is now considerably disturbed by all these sights and picks up his Guitar to leave the Tunnel.
"That's nice! Well, it was fun meeting you, er.. whatever your name is?" Mike turns as if to leave and folds up his Stool.
" I am a Pathfinder. I have come to show you the Wisdom of the Ages. I act as a Conduit through Time , offering Fate, Fortune, and Destiny", the Mage explains.
" Well, I could use some of that Fortune dropped into my Cap here", as Mike scoops up his Tattered and worn Hat from the ground.
"Wouldn't you like to see the fourth side of this Lamp?", the Mage offers. Mike was now feeling very uneasy.
"Maybe another time Mister Pathfinder, there is nobody to play to in the Tunnel tonight--so I must go now". Mike answered.
Then the Lantern turned again, to show its 4th Pane. Mike glanced at it and could see it was as Black as the darkest Chunk of Coal. His gaze looked into the Obsidian darkness and for a moment he thought he saw a slight movement in the Blackness.
Then suddenly, a Blinding Flash and an accompanying whooshing sound erupted from the Lantern. Terrified, Mike was off in an Instant-- Guitar in hand and running back up the Tunnel to the nearby opening back up to the Street level.
For what seemed like an eternity, he ran through the streets back towards his Rented Flat and safety. Then Blackness enfolded him. He did not remember how he made it back to his home.
Mike awoke in his Bed the next morning in a Cold Sweat. He could not remember his flight out of the Tunnel, though the Streets, nor to in his Front Door- let alone how he got into bed once there. He did remember the strange encounter with the 'Pathfinder' in the Tunnel though.
He amused himself by thinking that this was a Hell of a Dream he had. His eyes glanced about the dimness of the room as he convinced himself that this had all been a Nightmarish Dream. Then his gaze fell upon his Guitar on the floor in the centre of his Bedroom. His Guitar looked as if it had been plated in Gold!?!?
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END OF 'DOWN THE RABBIT HOLE'.