Infinite 01 - Infinite Sacrifice

everyone’s eyes stay identical. Always the same shape, size, and color. There’s a profound effect when you look into someone’s eyes that you have known for centuries.” He taps a slender finger beside his jeweled eye.
    “What else?”
    “They’re called beacons, and they exist to guide you to certain souls.”
    “I don’t understand.”
    “In your first life, you will be brand-new, as are many of the key people in that life—hence all the chaos you will see. It’s never a pretty picture when you get a lot of new souls together. In all the lives after, you will subconsciously recognize these marks. These beacons will either draw you in or repel you.”
    “What kind of marks?”
    “The first traumatic death a soul experiences will stay with them. Where do you think you got that spot on your left hand from?”
    “Oh, right! My mole!” I pull my hand in front of my face to see the mole I would never let the dermatologists remove.
    “It gives a whole new understanding to the purpose of birthmarks, doesn’t it?”
    “This is from my very first death? What happened?”
    “That you will have to see for yourself.”
    I stare at the spot, wondering how something as small as this dot could be a past life’s downfall. “Are there any other markers?”
    “People can adapt more markers with time, so you have to learn them as lives progress. Many personality traits and mannerisms survive into the next life. They build upon each other, and after many lives, you get some pretty interesting characters.” He raises his eyebrows, probably referring to some of the characters I’d left back in my last life. “Certain tastes and interests follow you throughout each life, such as affinity for certain foods, clothing, places, music, and even certain objects—all creeping their way out of your subconscious.”
    I try to think of all my tastes and how I might guess what my first life will be.
    “So if I have to go back again, I will at least have all my soul mates with me?”
    He shakes his head, and I feel sick again.
    I don’t want to imagine a life without Finn or Ellie.
    “The incarnate group will keep increasing for you. You might first start with only a few souls, but with each additional life, more people will come in and out of your group.”
    “Out of your group? Do some leave?”
    “Not leave for good, but sometimes some lives don’t incarnate together. It all depends on what the soul has to work on and if it fits with your goals.”
    No guarantees to go back with the ones you loved the most. “Okay, I think I’ve heard enough for now.” I raise my hands in surrender. “Is there any way you can prepare me for what I’m about to see?”
    He shakes his head. “No, I’m sorry. You have to see these lives as you experienced them to get the full effect of the memory.”
    I take a deep breath as though I’m plunging into the ocean’s depths. “I’m ready to see my first life.”
    He leans closer to me, taking my arm, and peers deep into my eyes. “Yes, I think you are.”

First Life
    Dream Magician

Chapter 1
    Opening my eyes to darkness, I look up to see stars filling the whole stretch of moonless sky. Large stars twinkle and catch my eye, as small stars—white dust thrown across the black—make me squint to see them. I focus back to ground level, where I follow the rolling landscape of sand.
    I stand fourth in a long line of robed young men, all identical and standing in silence before the Pyramid of Khufu with torches burning every few feet. Eight men pull a massive rock from the temple entrance, straining and grunting with the weight. Once the rock is moved halfway, two priests emerge with torches and nod their bald heads toward us as the first in line disappears; we all follow.
    I should have been first .
    The priests lead the way, chanting, accompanied by double clarinet musicians slowly blowing a snake-charmer melody as the cobra of our line follows obediently. The passageway is narrow, and the air is stale. The temperature is warmer inside the pyramid, a great relief since the thin robe helps little in the desert cold. The priests remove another door. Stepping up into a second corridor, I duck my head beneath the low ceiling. We come into a chamber where a statue of Amun and four other high priests stand. A priest takes the offerings the god Amun had feasted on and serves the first boy in line wine from a golden cup and white bread torn from the offering loaves. After he partakes,