Stella Fletton

The Transformation Host

(From the last page from The Trial of Salliniquai – The Prequel)

In the Human Physical Realm, known as the planet Earth…

When the unseen moon was new and the night was at its darkest, a rare and wondrous sight unfolded. Eight fabulously bright stars from the Realm of the Empress raced across the vast expanse, lighting up the sky. These were not your average, run-of-the-mill shooting stars. No, these were something far more extraordinary, for they carried the essence of Empress Salliniquai and her four good knights of the Brotherhood of the Nine.

As transcendent time travellers, they pierced their way through Earth's history with a unique purpose. Their mission was to join with newly born and young humans of a particular energy, chosen to host and progress the crucial aspects of Empress Salliniquai's nature and powers. Once all the life experiences have been accomplished, the Empress and her knights are destined to return to the Realm of the Empress—a realm governed by the Malsimily but created by the Empress herself.

Empress Salliniquai, originally from the spiritual realm of the Malsimily, was charged with an enormous responsibility. She was to usher in and watch over the progression of the Aquarian age, a task that would eventually lead to a reign of over 2,000 years.

During this, the last stage of her earthly journey, Empress Salliniquai embarks on a quest to process the lesser Kee of Transformation through the Sallori incarnation. Sallori, as the linchpin in this endeavour, must learn her evolutionary, experiential lesson on Transformation in the Human Physical Realm and open the way for the six energies to make the jump back to the Realm of the Empress.

The Omnipresent Timekeeper.

Prologue

August 2019.

On a bright, beautiful day in the late summer of 2019, Sallori Tessler pushed open the gate that led to the parsonage—a dark, imposing building, set in the middle of well-tended gardens, and started down the cobbled path with steadily rising trepidation. Of the thousand times she had walked this way, it was the first time she felt ... nothing.

Nothing but a strong sense of herself—Sallori King. She took a moment to consider how quickly she had gone back to using her maiden name. She had to dig deep to find what was missing from her life for far too long, and having done so, she breathed a sigh of relief, her chin lifting a little higher, as she continued toward the house with her companions—Thomas, and Marvin, walking a couple of paces behind her. Exuding a youthful energy that belied her forty years, she didn't mind entering through the back way, as directed by the vicar.

Ignoring the aroma from sweet-smelling flowers in full bloom in the immaculate gardens, the cheeps, and tweets of birds flying about the trees, the buzzing of insects, and the heat of the midsummer sunbathing her in its comforting warmth, the trio moved steadily down the path. The curtain twitched in the ground-floor study window before they took half a dozen steps. Behind her, Thomas and Marvin exchanged a glance. They saw it too. A mysterious figure was watching them, and all three could guess who. Thomas cocked a knowing eyebrow. Get ready, his eyes, said.

Sallori's expression was thoughtful as she approached the wide, oak door, thinking about the confrontation she was about to walk into. Having no idea what to expect, she prepared herself emotionally for what could be, at worst, an embarrassing, distasteful row, involving them all or, at best, a calm, mildly uncomfortable conversation between herself, and the sole party waiting within. Her palms were hot and sweaty. She wiped them nervously on her jeans, wishing she could wash her hands.

The presence of her friends boosted her confidence, and she appeared relaxed as she walked down the path, but inwardly, she was impatient to get the dreaded situation over and done with. A cool breeze caught wisps of her fine, light brown hair, and blew them across her face, now expressing a grim determination.

She reached the door and paused, taking out the keys. The energy of the seventh card of the major arcana in the tarot, the Chariot, a card she drew during her first, full tarot reading at the Serenity shop a few months ago, flashed in her mind. She tucked the stray strands of hair behind her ears, put the key in the lock, and hesitated. Her hand, slowly dropping away.

Having given fair warning that she was collecting the last of her things today, she'd hoped Gerald had the good sense to make himself scarce. She resisted looking directly at the window when, out of the corner of her eye, when she saw the curtain move again. The vicar, expecting their arrival, was having a good old look at the three of them, taking their measure, she knew. Pushing the thought of the welcome she may or may not receive to the back of her mind, she shifted her weight indecisively, then reached for the key in the lock again. Still, she did not turn it.

Thomas placed a reassuring hand on her right shoulder, squeezed it, and then let go. Marvin gently took the fingers of her left hand in his and held them until she glanced at him. He gave her an encouraging nod before he too, squeezed, and then let go. His touch alone gave her the strength to do what was needed.

The two men were both over six feet tall, well-built, with fiercely loyal natures. Initially, she refused their offer to accompany her because she knew how Gerald's mind worked. He would assume she had brought them along to either prove something or to intimidate him when, in fact, neither thought had crossed her mind. Thomas insisted on going because he knew Gerald would try to play the high and mighty card. Marvin, primarily out of curiosity, but also because he knew his presence would strengthen her resolve, whether she knew it or not. Without them, it would take twice as long to bring her stuff out with only a cab driver to help her, and she could not imagine Gerald lifting a finger to help. Yes, it would be a trifle more awkward with them there, but knowing they had her back, boosted her confidence.

She was the courageous Charioteer, with two sphinxes guarding her. The white man at her right shoulder, was solid, practical, supportive, and of her past. The black man to her left, was deeply spiritual, wise, and supportive of her future. She was finally taking the reins of her life in hand. She was ready to hold fast, willing to hold steady, and prepared to follow her spiritual guidance into a future full of blessings. As the Charioteer, she was ready to follow her destiny with enthusiasm, faith, and total commitment. But first, she had to deal with the current situation. With renewed courage to do what she must, she turned the key. It did not move.

"He's changed the locks," she sighed, although she was not all that surprised.

She removed the key, then waited as the person inside drew the locking bolt across the door. Its blunt sound; hollow and unwelcoming. The catch unlocked, and Gerald Tessler, the vicar of Conifers Church and her soon-to-be ex-husband, opened the door wide and stepped forward to stand framed in the recessed arch that led into the parsonage proper. He was dressed in his clerical collar and cassock, clutching an oversized, white Bible to his chest.

Oh, for God's sake, could he be more obvious? She thought, wanting to shake her head at him. She almost rolled her eyes at his overly dramatic appearance, knowing he had deliberately chosen to be there. Gerald would use the occasion to demonstrate his absolute, unwavering loyalty to the Church of England religion, as well as try to show her how far she had fallen by denouncing Christianity. Rather than feel intimidated by his holier-than-thou attitude, she felt sorry for him. She voiced a rhetorical observation.

"You've changed the locks already?"

The vicar's swift glance took in her appearance before an unimpressed expression settled on his features. She had seen this look often; usually directed at others. His chin lifted slightly.

"That's right. You said you were moving out today," he replied peevishly.

"I assumed you would not have, um, been around."

"Did you now?" He gave her a withering look, inclining his head in a way she had seen him do hundreds of times. The slight shine in his eyes told her he'd been at the wine. That he needed a drink to be able to face her, spoke volumes. "I was not going to allow you to bring …" he paused, his gaze flicking first to Thomas, and then Marvin. A brief expression of disgust crossed his features as he glanced at Thomas. A massive, bear of a man with rugged features and an easy smile, he was her closest friend and ally. His friendly, bright blue eyes held the vicar's cold gaze with a hint of amusement. The vicar then glanced at Marvin, whose eyes were hidden behind his sunglasses and, perhaps judging him as of no particular importance, returned his gaze to Sallori. "Strangers into a house of God." His voice dripped with disapproval, which he did not try to hide.

"Strangers?" Thomas grunted ruefully, arching an eyebrow.

The vicar ignored him. He was trying to appear unruffled, unaffected, and unsurprised by her new look. But Sallori could see by the tightness of his jaw and the disdainful look in his eyes, that he was failing to keep up this false picture of disinterest and composure. While he was curious about her transformation, he was loathe to show any interest in her. His demeanour alone was enough to show him as being incapable of keeping a lid on his feelings, and because she understood him and what he was about, her determination not to be antagonised, drawn into being defensive, or feeling belittled by his scornful gaze and silly attitude, strengthened. She was beyond caring about his petty attempts at intimidation.

"Can we talk?" She asked.

"Alone, yes," he replied, tetchily, his thin face tightening. "I don't want them stepping foot in the parsonage."

The urge to reply defensively began to surface, but she tamped it down. Let him think he held the upper hand and intimidated her, if that was what she had to do to get this done. She could barely imagine herself as a vicar's wife now, living in a house which had become a brooding, lifeless, passionless place to live. Everything about her life with Gerald, seemed utterly alien to her now, and her many years with him, unremarkable, almost like someone else had lived them.

"Well, unless you want me to use a magical incantation to spell my things to carry themselves out of here, I suggest you step aside and let them in." She started forwards to step over the threshold, forcing him to back away. "They're only here to get my stuff, that's all. Give me a minute to show them where my things are." The way he was carrying on, one might think they were there to hex the place or something, she thought as she stepped past him. This time, she rolled her eyes at his ridiculous, childish behaviour.

"Tell them to make it quick." He snapped, making sure to have the last word. Having assessed them to his satisfaction, he ignored their presence as if the two were invisible.

In no way intimidated, Thomas bristled at how the vicar was milking the situation, and said abruptly, "Lead the way, Sal," and barged his way over the threshold.

Unwilling to risk being accidentally touched by Thomas's devil-worshipping hands, the vicar was forced to take a couple more steps back. He was pretty wound up, and seemed intent on picking a fight, or on making sure he was in complete control of whatever was taking place under his roof. That he'd had more than one glass of wine was evident. But only to her, she knew.

Sallori straightened. She was not there for a confrontation and would not give him the satisfaction of making her defend her new beliefs. Why should she? His unflinching Church of England stance on religion was set in stone, as were her ideas and opinions on paganistic, nature-based spirituality. She was as passionate about her beliefs as he was about his, and she need not justify herself to him. Brushing off his rudeness, she said coolly.

"As you say, Gerald. They'll be quick."

Let his imagination run wild about me and my friends from the dark side, she thought with a wry grin, as she crossed over to the stairs, gesturing for her companions to follow.

She rubbed her hands together expectantly, as she went up the stairs, eager to get to the bathroom. She had a thing about keeping her hands clean, and when she was regularly handling bibles, shaking hands with people, touching door handles and the backs of chairs, she washed them over twenty times a day, then. She was not as anal about it now. Still, the thought of the fresh, cold water and soap cleansing them was a comfort. The only sort she would get under this roof, she knew.

During the drive back to Marvin's flat, which was above the Serenity shop he owned, Sallori gazed out the window, thinking back to the events which brought the unpredictable, irreversible changes to her life. Glancing back over his shoulder, Thomas told her he was proud of how she stood up to Gerald, and Marvin agreed, while at the same time, thinking of how much he wanted to get her back to the flat so he could ravish her again.

In a relatively short space of time, she had several, emotionally challenging scenarios to contend with. She fought hard to protect a friendship, struggled with the death of loved ones, and was stunned by a family secret hidden from her, her entire life. She recently passed her milestone fortieth birthday, was apparently in the midst of a mid-life crisis, and as if these weren't enough, she lost faith in the Church of England religion and was getting divorced to boot. Yet, as she grieved for the loss of so much, she had not deteriorated into an utterly mixed up, all over the place mess, nor was she suffering a nervous or emotional breakdown.

Now she was through the worst of it, the events convinced her that everything happened as it should have, because on the heels of so many losses, came an incredible spiritual awakening, and the prospect of a happy future filled with bright blessings. She was experiencing blessings most women only got to dream about, and now, she was planning a new life with the man she loved. A man she met only a few months ago, who she would do anything for and give everything to, as long as he never stopped wanting her, never stopped needing her, and never stopped loving her.

Marvin James was the most wonderfully spiritual, passionate man she'd ever had the good fortune to meet. He turned her life around in a few short weeks and gave her a new purpose. Healing her broken heart and awakening her soul, he was the best thing that had ever happened to her, and when they were together, she felt a sense of completion never experienced before. That he was a gorgeous, six-foot-two inches tall, extremely sexy black man, with an easy, charming smile, and a gentlemanly grace; was a bonus.

Who would have thought that frumpy old Sallori, of all people ... No, wait a minute. She had lived a frumpy life, but she was not frumpy. There is a big difference, according to Thomas, and Marvin called her sexy lady all the time, proving that she wasn't frumpy, and hadn't completely lost her mind in taking such a drastic step towards a new life. That she could be making the biggest mistake of her life never once crossed her mind; she was so sure she was doing the right thing. The Church of England community members who knew her as frumpy old Sallori would certainly think so, but she had nothing to do with them now. It felt odd, knowing she trusted the two men she was with and their intentions towards her more than she ever trusted congregation members, many of whom she'd known for over twenty years.

A note from the Timekeeper …

One might wonder how a woman who has lived her whole life as a Christian, has found herself in this challenging situation in the space of just over half a year. As one of the four women possessing the energy of Empress Salliniquai, Sallori, being made of stronger stuff, was unique in how she dealt with life's ups and downs and destined to walk a higher spiritual path.

In fact, now would be a fitting time to take a step back—back to the beginning of Sallori King's transformative journey …

Chapter One

Conifers, a pleasant little village in the green county of Rowanshire, is where our story begins. The Church of England in Conifers, boasted a congregation of around seventy members; all of whom held Vicar Gerald Tessler, in high regard. With the support of a deacon, Gerald, and his wife, Sallori, were active church members with positions of responsibility in official, and unofficial terms. Gerald, at this time, had been a vicar for twelve years.

Distant past. The happily married vicar's wife.

In his early days of service, Gerald worked as the churchwarden at a church in the town of Bishop, located in the north district of Rowanshire. Here was where he met and married Sallori, a few years after tragically losing his wife of six years.