The Justiceers
by Daphne Garrido
Part Three: The Will to Choose
Part Four: Prefinished Business
4.5
Miriam’s eyes were of the eons — her heart a grace of The Goddess, its light pouring ever backward — harmony falling into place around every step she’d make throughout this galaxy.
The Artimus had become more than it ever was before. Her ways of connecting people, forging ties through means of honesty and allowance, forgiveness offered wholly to those deserving, always to find lost minds worthy of redemption when sought.
Grace had seen fit to bring her here, and Miriam found great trust in that. Despite the lifetimes spent away from Arthur, and the longing she still felt to hold him again, her true place in his heart was known, and it was all she’d ever need; want for everything else dissolved in that moment of getting the one thing she’d wanted most.
That beautiful man of such divinely stowed godhood and strength — his ways so calling her heart, leading to deeper connection with her soul — he’d been the greatest gift she’d ever know. His light would be with her every moment, and it was something she’d never stop being grateful for, no matter how much time they spent away from each other.
Empowered by that love she at last knew as her own, Miriam’s heart had become of purest giving, now bleeding The Goddess into the universe around her with effortlessness.
She loved every single person on The Artimus, and they loved her back.
To know Miriam Halafax, was to know yourself. Her reflection of each soul’s light a most simple thing to witness. Every human being and conscious mind alike which chose of its own free will to join her cause, would find their first meeting with the woman to be of most transcendent nature — things changing inside them for days afterwards, coming to eventually feel an authenticity rise they’d not have known before — realizing they’d too held the divine inside, discovering themselves empowered to build a connection to spirit on terms of their own.
Miriam knew each heart had its own interpretation of the great light, that every soul’s vision was unique, and all perspectives would be honored.
Respect was the one rule aboard The Artimus — and not that of Miriam, or her orders — for oneself and all others.
Those who were incapable of operating in good faith were not welcome here. Though they would be prayed for and sent on their way with love regardless. Miriam kept a running log of every soul she’d turned away — spending great amounts of effort to shine her light into their lives, no matter if they’d found a place by her side — their love and support would be recognized regardless, and The Artimus would honor them in its glory.
Never had Miriam turned a soul away who could admit their mistakes, who wanted to get better. She knew this universe was hard, very difficult things could befall people, and it wouldn’t take much for anyone to go over the edge.
To respect yourself, means to heal those wounds within you, and face what’s true. Any person willing to do that would always have a place by her side.
Pia Hearthwood was the head of The Mothers, an order of priestesses upon The Artimus, and her loving friendship was a most precious thing to Miriam.
So far from Arthur, and his arms, Miriam would find herself most fulfilled by more simplistic attachments of the heart, those crafted of companionship and clear seeing.
Pia had come from the planet Jorath, and a life of struggle, having seen herself forced to make way by allowing others access to her body. She'd been a sexual being her whole life, and most precious of heart, who’d not found one to hold her properly. This relationship born between them had sparks at the beginning, both having tended to push all moments of connection towards romance, and been so long apart from lovers to call their own.
They’d even shared a sweetest kiss.
Yet wisest reflection had them settle into what would matter most for their spirits, friendship. Miriam felt love for Pia in romantic ways, no doubt, she was wonderful — holding this feeling as friendship had become means for it to transcend the boundaries of attachment — their love for each other was clean.
The Mothers were the soul of The Artimus, all women welcome — and men as well — any who so identified with finding harmony within the light of The Goddess would be a gift to this ship, and they would be held in highest honor.
Every person, no matter their beliefs or expression of the great light, would find understanding in the myths of The Mothers. Their stories told, the songs they sang, and pictures they’d paint — would bring the heart out of all. A community had been born through truth.
Spirit would fly free on The Artimus, forevermore.
Miriam had been awoken in body for the first time in twenty-three rotations — each representing a new placement in time-space, and another leap backwards — finally called to walk again in form.
Strangest sensations would come from being back in her body after much time spent within the systems of The Artimus, directing its people from that expanded perspective, feeling the flowing of gravity and light in ways she’d never as a human being alone.
Threading, snaking, weavings of geometry were visible to her now, floating about in her waking and sleeping states alike — infused with the ability to manipulate these channels, forge them anew, repair and expand the capabilities of their bandwidth — these previously unseen energetic chords tied every person to each other and the universe.
Miriam had always done this, just without knowing it, never before able to witness the work of her doings.
She would now make these divine cosmic patterns her own — the power within this wielding was a grace ever bestowed by her continued humility to the God’s of fate, trust placed in her heart, and the courage to follow guidance from within — this galaxy would be healed by Miriam and her Arthur’s light.
There would be an end to this perpetual terror from the past she’d fought so terribly long. Their ways were horrid.
Something within her had come to know something long ago — whoever they were, wherever they came from — they’d been the ones to destroy Omirion in that time so impossibly distant even Miriam would not reach it.
Now a spirit-walker by force of will, she’d navigate time and space, searching new courses and resources for the people of The Artimus. Yet she’d never see her soul’s home in those travels, not once, it was out of reach.
She’d come to believe Omirion’s destruction had been the origin point of evil in this galaxy itself, the birthing of that monster which she would now end, preventing their evil from taking more perfect lives from the hearts who needed them so.
Miriam Halafax would be with Arthur Katrinus again one day — the one person her heart would always love the very most — and she knew everything was going to be okay.