Astonishing the Gods by Ben Okri

collective presence electrified the hall. They shimmered in their empty spaces like the air after lightning.
    On the podium there was a long silver table. Behind the table, buntings and banners, held aloft by the invisible city guild, hung proudly, displaying the mystic signs of the city’s motto and heraldic emblem.
    He gazed in astonishment at the shining spaces. He was overwhelmed by the heightened mood in the august hall, by the radiant presences, the serene air, the deep-sea calm, the mountain solidity, and the blue wisdom that surrounded him in the ritual moment. He realised suddenly how all the lights in the spaces filled the hall with an intangible mood of divinity.
    â€˜You are in the presence of the illuminators. These are the guardians of the spiritual realms, protectors of the secret of secrets.’
    So saying, his guide led him gently but firmly down the aisle, past the empty chairs occupied by noble and enlightened beings, and all the way to the front row. Hurriedly, as the drums and trumpets began to sound by themselves, played by invisible masters, she made him sit down.
    When he sat, he felt the masters all about him. He heard their murmurs and their muted conversations. If he hadn’t looked back he would have felt them as a hall crowded with beings. But when he did look back, he heard the voices but saw nothing. The eerie sensation of being in a great hall full of people he couldn’t see filled him with an enchanted unease. It was as if they were in a separate realm, a hidden dimension. In order to make sense of the uneasy sensation he had to imagine himself blind. With his eyes shut, he made an astonishing discovery. They became real. They acquired individuality. And when they spoke, invisible though they were, their voices conjured to him aspects of their personalities.
    And so, blind among the empty chairs, he suddenly could see. That was when he first became aware of the splendid and miraculous lives of the Invisibles.

2
    He listened to the resonant speeches from the platform and realised that he couldn’t understand what was being said. He noticed however that the uttered words transformed the air.
    The first master of the long table spoke slowly, and his words induced a great calm over the hall. A wind of peace blew over from the words, spreading warmth and extending the spaces. Soon the hall seemed very vast. The words began to resonate from the magical frescoes.
    The first master created a landscape filled with peaceful spirits, with a faun playing a pan-pipe, and a white horse galloping up the first mountain, and the leaves of the trees glistening under a heavenly light.
    The words began to alter the hall, began to so expand the spaces that, sitting in the front row, he suddenly felt himself surrounded by benign presences in an expanse of light. He seemed utterly alone in the blue dazzling lights of the vast hall.
    And then, out of the words, music began playing. He listened to the ritual music, to its bells and flutes and pan-pipes and violins, its tinkling harmonies, its soaring pastoral mood.
    And he became aware, as he listened, that he was now in a different place. He dwelled there for a long time, not knowing where it was, but sensing that he was being raised up, being changed, as he lingered.
    When he came to himself there was a new silence all about and he realised that the first master had finished and that he hadn’t understood. He was about to turn his head towards the seat next to him, where his female guide was supposed to be, when the hall erupted in applause and joyful acclamation.

3
    After a long pause, the second master began speaking. Still he couldn’t understand. Then as he listened he noticed again how the words were altering the hall.
    Diamond lights shimmered from the words and spangles of emerald sunlight danced about the place, dwelling briefly and intensely on every person in the hall. And when the sunlight dwelled on him he shouted and nearly