For sixteen years, Lya, has lived as a normal human, until her father, Walter, gets involved with the wrong people and puts Lya’s life at risk. During a visit to Miami, Lya’s older sister is kidnapped, and Lya and her father are subsequently taken hostage by Walter’s associates and forced to board a plane to India. When the plane lands in Delhi, Lya is rescued by three monks and taken to a Monastery. There her reality is shattered, when she learns the true identity of her rescuers and, even more surprisingly, herself. Lya is now faced with the toughest decision of her life. Can she live up to her ethereal destiny and save her family?
From above the hospital bed, with her body imbedded into the ceiling and veiled by shadows, a bald, blue-skinned girl watched, untouched by Carla’s plight. The blue girl’s dark, goggle-like eyelids reflected Carla’s image as she cursed those she felt were responsible for her predicament; not even God was spared.
The hospital nurses behind the desk across the hall continued doing their best to ignore the screaming woman. They believed the moment of birthing to be hours away and Carla’s angry words repulsed them. The blue girl had heard one of the nurses say such a poisonous woman like that shouldn’t even have a womb, much less be allowed to give birth. They had no intention of being kind to Carla.
Carla’s belly tensed and stayed peaked. The blue girl’s lids split open to reveal concerned human-shaped purple eyes. It was time to bring Tsaen out. She pursed her lips and blew down towards Carla’s head.
Carla closed her eyes and became silent. Her fingers relaxed their vice-like grip on the bed sheet.
The blue girl surfaced from within the ceiling and dropped down. She pressed her index finger against her navel, and just before touching the floor, she took the human form of a young Buddhist monk.
The monk stood next to the bed with his palms over Carla’s belly button. A glow spread throughout the swollen mound.
Carla moaned, turned her head, then settled back down.
The monk slid his hands across the soft skin, until they came to rest between Carla’s legs, just in time to support a tiny body enveloped in a pouch of green mucous. He bent over the baby. His mouth was inches from the green pouch when he sensed someone in the hall. He looked down and saw a shadow beneath the door, the nurse’s feet. They were small. It was the nurse called Sumana. The doorknob twisted. The monk realized Carla’s silence had caused concern. He placed the baby onto Carla’s stomach and slid towards the head of the bed. He touched his forehead to Carla’s and, using Carla’s voice, let out a loud scream, followed by a curse word. The shadow beneath the door grew small. The nurse had stepped back but she hadn’t left, nor had she released the doorknob. The monk screamed again.
Sumana seemed to hesitate. Her feet changed positions.
The monk waited.
Finally Sumana released the knob and retreated.
The monk pulled away from the sleeping Carla and went back to the baby. He lifted the baby from Carla’s belly and bit into the pouch, ripping off a piece of membrane with his teeth.
The loud sound of tearing disturbed Carla. She tried to open her eyes, but only managed a blink.
The monk swallowed the piece of membrane before ripping off another. A glistening head of thick black hair appeared. The monk continued until the baby was free. With a swipe of his hand, he severed the umbilical cord and carried the baby to the changing table.
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