The trajectory of light

The dice struck the board and rolled over. Six-six-six. A man of the same age as the universe and his long-lost son, both examined the pieces, hunched over a black, dusty board.

“What is this game called again?” he asked.

His son picked up the dice and placed the three of them inside the cup. “I took the liberty to call it ‘A game of creation’, Father. And it's inspired by the games of the people of the Earth where, as you well know, I have spent most of eternity. Quite a prison for the immortal!”

“Quite a prison, indeed…” answered the man. “What are the rules?”

“They’re rather simple, Father. We’re playing chess – as Earthlings call it – on a Snooker board – as Earthlings call it – but I have taken the liberty to make the pieces planets in the Milky Way, and we’ll use these cues made of pressed stardust to hit the balls with. Now, we’ll strike with a ghost planet, and—”

“Why?” asked the man, raising his kind silver-eyes to behold his son.

“Because, Father, I have been among them and, while I well know that you still love them so, I weep for the damage they have done…”

With this, the man’s son grabbed the cue and bent over the board, and a ghost planet shot past Mars, swishing next past the Earth at a millimetric distance.

“Destruction is an integrated part of creation, or so I remember being taught,” said the young man, smiling at his father who had very slightly touched his cue to make him miss.

“So I remember teaching you, my son. But you are too quick to judge. Moreover, I also remember teaching you compassion and deeply-rooted patience. The Earthlings too have come to resemble your character, and I insist upon the fact that forgiveness is the wise man's greatest weapon.”

“I beg to disagree, my Father,” answered the young man. “I have never seen a place fouler and more infested however much I searched. The air they breathe is tainted; the water they drink they’ve infected with substances we’d only ever use to create the soil under their feet. They’re dying, Father, in pain and desperation, and they’ve forgotten the name of their creator, whom they call anything but Universal Being!”

The old man gently removed the cue from his son’s angry hand, then he replaced the ghost planet on the black dusty board and lifted his hands. The dust was raised thus, coming to float freely, gas rings and gas wombs, planets and stars and darkness to surround them.

“When I made people, I did not cast the dice, my son, nor did I strike the Earth billions of years ago to kill. I am acquainted with their ways but look at all the things they have created. Languages, mathematics, their theories of the world, of the universe, of the way to preserve their species whilst moving on to a new sphere—”

“Which they will taint all the same! They have engineered foods packed with chemicals! And animals that only live to meet their untimely death, to rot on the shelves or in garbage bins while the less fortunate starve to death!”

“This is not the point, son… We are not here to judge, and neither should we end their history because they fail to comply with our philosophy.”

The old man moved his long, white fingers with dexterity, and matter wielded by his force floated and danced, merging to give life to the darkness. Outbursts of light followed, and stars collided, blasting that patch of space to smithereens, all while his son watched transfixed with gladness. The swirling Milky Way started to spin unto itself.

“As I said before, I am acquainted with their ways—”

“But billions suffer! It is unjust and—”

“The wars they bring unto themselves, the greed, the slavery, it’s all a part of existence. Why did you suffer so while you were banished from the Heavens?” asked the old man, his hand resting momentarily on the shoulder of his grieving son.

“Because I meant no harm, and yet I harmed. Judge them as you’ve judged me, or let me judge them in your stead.”

A pair of furious wings stretched and just as quickly they retracted under the gentle glinting eyes of the old man.

“There will be no judgment save for the judgment they pass onto their own souls once they have moved on. You know this, and yet you choose to contradict me. Don’t be as proud as to sever our bond a second time, my child—”

“But you know what they made of me! A monster!”

“They only did what the limits of their minds allowed them to do. And yet I see, beyond your desire to destroy, that you are disappointed, for you have always hoped to right their wrongs… But this cannot be done, my son, until they teach themselves to love each other.”

The young man collapsed on the chair with his beautiful pale face in his hands. He sobbed and cried, and massive wings closed protectively around his slender body.

“Do you know why I wouldn’t even let you strike a replica of that sinful planet?” asked the old man in a near-whisper, caressing the long, white feathers on his son’s massive wings. “It’s because there is goodness there, son. There are talent and beauty hidden deep inside its people. There is kindness, though most often extinguished by the sorrows of their past experiences. But there is unity, my son… And as long as they can be united in hatred, they can also be united in love. There is wisdom too, though oftentimes hidden in the hearts of those who will not be listened to or understood, but that does not make wisdom non-existent. And while most of those they look up to teach them self-hatred that can only be expressed through hatred of their brothers, they are capable of self-love, although they may not yet know it. Look at this,” he said, at last, drawing his son’s hands away from his face.

The dark space that had been their board now glinted in a network of expanding lights, and it zoomed in, closer and faster, until the image of the Earth’s colourful lands came into focus.

“They poison their lands, as you observed, but the Earth is capable of cleansing itself. They kill each other, but their carcasses feed their planet. They taint the air at the cost of making themselves terminally ill. The Earth can clean itself, and it will eventually clean itself of people. No need to fret, my son. People unknowingly pass judgment unto themselves every millisecond of their lives through their choices.”

“But you told me not to judge… Why are you telling me this, Father?” asked the youngster, letting his cheek rest on the shoulder of his heavenly father.

The man ran his supple fingers through his son’s hair. “Because there will soon come a time when the cup will overflow. And all their hatred and judgment will return the people of the Earth to the state of recyclable matter. But the time and the means are not up to us to choose. Remember these words, my son: there is no greater virtue than patience and compassion. Though it may seem that oftentimes it’s evil that prevails, this misconception will bring the end much nearer to the present moment, for this living, breathing organism that we are a part of will always better itself. There is no need for greed and hatred, for wars and intended misfortune, for the universe only employs destruction to refine its structures, to give them long-lasting life and meaning.”

“Then… What shall we do, Father?”

The man stood up and wiped the former dark board with his flowing white sleeve, and space, the gas wombs and rings, and the planets and stars were changed to blinding light.

“We’ll start again. And this time, I’ll be the one choosing the game. It’s a personal best, for I have long studied the way gravity works according to the people of the Earth.”

His swift hands pulled a ray of light out of the brilliant mass of whiteness, throwing it his son’s way.

“This, my child, I like to call ‘the trajectory of light’,” he whispered loudly, as the ray sunk deep in the youngster's forehead.

And there was a new Earth, where trees reached the clouds and people exhaled fear that was consumed by the green plenitude and returned in the form of hope for them to feed their lungs and minds.

And so, the youngster smiled when his blue eyes opened again. In front of him stood the Universal Being, a spark above his open palm, and the Being’s hand closed gently around the hand of the angel to pass on the spark. And the universe trembled.