(Gate 10 — Zebulun: The Eye of the Heart)
Eliah now journeyed into a land of deep stillness, where the wind made no sound and the trees held their breath. The sky above was a soft violet, and strange shimmering shapes floated gently in the air like thoughts made visible.
Here, sight was different. You could not see with your eyes alone—you had to look with something deeper.
At the center of this silent realm stood a great tower made of translucent stone. Its surface shimmered like water, and within it swirled images—of people, places, and things yet to come.
Outside the tower sat a woman clothed in silver and deep blue. Her eyes were closed, but she saw everything.
“I am Zebulun,” she said gently, “Keeper of the Gate of Vision.”
Eliah bowed. “Is this where I see the future?”
She shook her head. “This is where you learn to see truly—not with the eyes of flesh, but with the eye of the heart.”
She touched her forehead, and suddenly Eliah’s inner world stirred. Colors danced. Shapes formed. And then—clarity.
He saw a vision of himself standing before a dark forest, a lantern of light in his hand. Behind him walked others—children, elders, strangers—all following the glow.
“Your vision,” said Zebulun, “is not just what you see. It is what you choose to become. What you choose to guide.”
She led him to the base of the tower. “If you would pass through this gate, you must see through the illusion. You must choose clarity, not comfort. Truth, not appearances.”
Eliah closed his eyes. He breathed in deeply. And when he opened his eyes again, the world sparkled—not just with beauty, but with meaning.
The tower shifted, becoming a gate—arching wide with wings of glass and starlight. Above it were the words:
“Gate 10 — Zebulun: Let the Heart See True.”
As he stepped through, the silent wind whispered:
“Vision is not seeing what will be—it is becoming what must be.”
To be continued…
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