ee. An Immortal Generation.

                That afternoon, Oil Rag and I returned to where the Shulon had engaged a fight with that giant. Several warriors lay dead as well as the giant, near the stream. I’d asked if the Shulon bury their dead. Apparently there was no custom for burial. Looting the body, perhaps. Buriel? No thoughts given for that. The bodies were left to the environment and the scavengers.

                We sat by the fire pit that I had made previously. Oil Rag seemed unconcerned that the Shulon might return. He explained to me, “the land you search for, Shulon, in the modern era, where you came from, is possibly somewhere near Lake Van in Turkey.”

                I reply, “Modern era? How do you know that?”

                “I know because… well I am guessing.” Oil Rag pauses. “I know because I have been there. You can recall Darby Jones. Yes?”

                Suddenly, I see the similarity.

                He continues, “Although the terrain is different. I cannot map it because when I time travel, the things seen are as they are, and the past is as I remembered. But just because I remember the past the way I do, when I return to the past, it may be different than as I recalled it before I embarked upon it… Or perhaps my recollection is altered as well. Time travel can be confusing and deceiving.”

                “Did I time travel?”

                “Enoch, you were conducted here. You were chosen. Semyaz, the leader of the Runaways seeks to capitalize on that. Although, Semyaz did not conduct you here. None of us can do that. We can only time travel ourselves. Time is different for us. We are immortal. You are not. The only way for you to time travel is to be conducted in time by a higher being who is the master of time itself.”

                “And who might that be?

                “If you are on a mission for the Kingdom of God, then Enoch, so be it. That power came from there. Not here on dry ground. Although modern man pursues that knowledge. The Chronovisor rumor?”

                I ask, “You say you are immortal and I should be thankful that I am not. How can you believe such a thing? Men of this generation as well as from the modern era where I came from long for immortality. It is eternal life that seek.”

                Oil Rag explains, “Immortality in spirit without the healing powers from the Kingdom is torture. I am banned from the Kingdom. Ostracized. Marooned here in your dimension. Cursed. If my body takes damage, I heal; slowly. If a tiger tears my flesh, even tears off a leg, I heal. I grow a new leg. That is torture. Painful. Regeneration can take many moons. The only work-around to that horrific torture of healing and slow regeneration when wounded, or devoured in body, is to time travel to the past; before the disaster occurred. Then we live again. Cursed immortality is hell.”

                “Why have I never seen any of your kind in the modern era? It seems that sort of visitation would be common knowledge if it were so.”

                “The wickedness of some angels. They don’t reveal themselves. Rarely anyhow. As for me, people don’t believe it when you tell them. It just complicates things to bring it up. There is also the repercussions. We are reprimanded and punished by the forces of Semyaz if caught revealing the unknown to any generation.”

                “Darkness is our ally. If we reveal ourselves to the future generation you speak of, they would recognize us and our influence over destiny would wane. This would cause great havoc. We would lose our clandestine advantage and our reign on dry ground over the mortals would soon crumble. It’s similar to guerrilla warfare.”

                “I don’t get the feeling that you’ve turned away from your clan. You sound as if you are still part of this rebellion.”

                “I should take offense to that,” says Oil Rag, “but you perceive well, Enoch, I admit it. …I do resist the rebellion but it is in my blood. I’ve not been able to enlist a resistance. From myself of my own volition, or any other souls of the Runaway clan. We did form a pact. We did swear an oath. It does have consequences. I am an outcast of the kingdom. I am a deserter and abandoned by my own kind on both sides of the war.”

                “A resistance against that pact. That oath with Semyaz has eluded me. A resistance against those who oppose the commission of the men on dry ground.”

                “In your modern generation, Enoch, men, …don’t even know what that commission is.”

                “I am referring to the here and now, Oil Rag. Not the generation where I come from. I cannot travel time like you. So I am here for the duration. For whatever duration that may be. If your resistance is against that pact, then we share a common goal.”

                Oil Rag comments, “forming a resistance against the immortals with mortal men is futile.”

                “No. It isn’t. Men procreate. I have a son. Methuselah. He will learn from me. I learned from my father, Jared. As the population of our race grows, so can the resistance. We pass down truth from one generation to the next. We influence destiny. We conquer time in that way. We are not in it alone either. We, …or I, Enoch, have the support of two-thirds of all the angels. The loyal ones. Together, we outnumber the rebellious.”

                “You are underestimating your opposition. Our kind procreates as well. The Nephilim are many. Don’t forget. You saw one. That giant that the Shulon warriors were fighting. He is a Nephilim. He is half mortal man and half immortal, because I am immortal, so is he. And now that he is dead, he is undead. He is a demon now. Unable to affect the physical realm. He can only reach you through your essence. Your ability to connect with the spiritual realm.”  

                “The Shulon killed him. We saw that.”

                “Yes, Enoch. They did. However, his spirit lives on. He is a genuine demon. Bound to earth. No time travel. No regeneration. He remains a spirit with a malformed soul.”

                “Shulon. I am driven to go to Shulon. Oil Rag, do you know the way?”

                “I do. A river went out of Eden to water the garden; and from thence it was parted, and became into four heads. The name of the first is Pison: that which encompasses the whole land of Havilah, where there is gold; and the gold of that land is good: There is bdellium and the onyx stone. And the name of the second river is Gihon; the same is it that encompasses the whole land of Ethiopia. And the name of the third river is Hiddekel; it goes toward the east of Assyria. And the fourth river is the Euphrates; the one you have been following.[1] Shulon is due east of us. A days’ travel,” said he.

                “I rest and journey tomorrow,” said I.