Piera Sarasini's Blog
January 24, 2017
CHAPTER ONE (Three)
Waiting for Kassandra - 21 March 2012
When Kassandra landed back on the Hill of Tara in time for her appointment, her girlfriends were already in the souvenir shop adjacent to the cafeteria. The place would normally be packed with visitors in the summer months but it was pleasantly quiet at this time of the year. It was no surprise that Kassie had wanted to meet them there. The three women had a special connection with this ancient site.Letizia had baptized her firstborn here, according to the Goddess Tradition, on the Spring Equinox seven years earlier. The ceremony had been held on Tara’s holy ground, by the Stone of Destiny. Kassie had officiated the rites, with Polly as the godmother. Letizia had preferred to present her beautiful Daniel to the Mother before his traditional religious christening. Now the trio would be back together, to rekindle their bond as daughters of the Goddess.Polly and Letizia were excited about that afternoon’s rendezvous. It had been a while since they'd last seen their unconventional friend. Always full of surprises, a year or so earlier she had informed them that she needed to disappear from the social radar for a while. Just like that, out of the blue. Nobody knew where she had been or what she had been up to since. Kassandra was the most unpredictable person they knew. But they trusted her completely with her life choices. No matter how deeply she may end up in the Darkness, love would always sway her back to the Path of Love.Once again, she had left them in total oblivion of her deeds and given them cause for much speculation. Until a week previously, when she had contacted both friends telepathically, to let them know that she was soon to be back in Dublin and would love to see them on the Equinox. They should be warned, she had added, that the man she loved would be coming along too. "Oh no!!!!" were the words that had screamed in her friends' minds at the last piece of news.The appointment was at 2 pm. The women had arrived ten minutes early. No sign of Kassandra yet. But she was already at Tara and was now walking away from the sacred spring in the direction of the cafeteria. In the meantime, Letizia was flicking through books on Celtic art. Polly was eyeing the cupcakes and scones on display - any turmoil in her emotions would always command the complete attention of her stomach. She pulled Letizia away from the shelves and into the eating area. “Do you think we will still get on with her like in the good old days?”“Come on, Polly, be a bit more hopeful! It’s only been a year, and she’s just coming out of that strange period of isolation. She’s always been very hard to read, we know. But she’s the most heart-centered person in the world. And she’s perfectly aligned with her True Identity. We can only, as always, get on famously. I am more concerned with Oscar to be honest. He’s the one who seems to lose the plot on a regular basis...”“Well, let’s see if he turns up at all. It wouldn’t be the first time he’s let her down...”
Polly’s eyes darkened. She went to sit at the table by the window and started studying the trees and berry bushes outside. Nature’s spirits already knew what that afternoon had in store. She wished she could elicit that information in advance. But the only response that came from the world outside was the sound of raindrops falling on leaves.
Rehab, Dublin, April 2011
Why had Kassandra disappeared twelve or so months before hers and Oscar’s appointment at the Hill of Tara? Where was she? The setting where we find them one year earlier is completely different, despite being similarly set in a green and lush environment. We encounter our couple in the famous Hermitage, the five-star rehabilitation clinic in the south of Dublin where rich and troubled souls the world over come looking for some peace of mind and hardcore detox. Oscar has recognized her silhouette straight away as she is heading to sit under the porch in the rose garden. At first, he had tried to hold back for a few minutes before approaching her. His body was hungry for her, of course, and there was nothing he could do about it. But at least the sight of her face can now satisfy his eyes, if only for a stolen while. Kassandra is such a poignant vision of beauty. He wishes he’d brought along his drawing pad and pencils. He can’t really resist that long, can he? So he goes over and sits next to her.“Is that your journal, Kassie? Are you writing about me?”Kassandra looks up from the page and her eyes meet Oscar’s grinning face. She smiles and nods at him.“Well, yeah, I might very well have mentioned you in here,” she winks at him. “It’s a stream-of-consciousness exercise. I like to jot down the random thoughts that emerge in my head-space because sometimes they do take over and rule the entire thinking process. I follow them in writing, to see where they take me, where my imagination is leading me... there is truth in these words, even when they don’t make much sense. My memories can come across in an erratic manner sometimes...”They are flirting even under testing circumstances. They are supposed to feel guilty about their liaison, but they don’t. “Would you like me to have a look at these bizarre thoughts of yours then? I don’t think they can be any weirder than my own ideas...”.Kassandra feigns surprise. “I didn’t mean to say there is anything strange in what I wrote. This might sound a bit far-fetched perhaps, and I don’t really know the full purpose of this exercise as yet, but anyway, for what it’s worth...”Oscar puts his hand on Kassandra’s arm. When he touches her, their exchange of energy silences their words for a few seconds. She had been longing for that contact for the past two days. That’s why she had decided to bring her diary along when she went out on her afternoon walk. Oscar is a man of a curious disposition. She was certain that he would stop to inquire about the content of her scribbling. “Here, have a look”, she says. “This is the real me, not the woman that these doctors otherwise insist that I am...”Oscar takes her diary and reads the opening paragraph.I, Kassandra Morgante, High Master of the Blue Flame, am writing this for you, Oscar O’Leary, with the intention that you will ask me to read it.“Wow”, he says, and then lifts his eyes from the page to look at Kassandra. She is now laughing.“It seems that you always get what you want from me, Miss Morgante...”Kassandra notices that Oscar’s aura is turning to gold too quickly. He isn’t yet ready to absorb the information contained in her words. His passionate, very human nature is still prevailing, which endears him to her even more.“You can read another couple of sentences, but that’s all...”“Ok, boss! I’ll read aloud then, until it’s allowed.”You have found me because I am your kin and True Friend. I am the only woman who can talk to your Star Heart. I will be your direction when you are ready to tap into the deepest part of your heart that calls for healing.Oscar’s weak heart is racing already. He shouldn’t go any further. So Kassandra places her hands on the following lines of text.“Stop now, that’s it. You get the gist”.
The journal ends up on the bench. Their tongues start to explore the depths of their mutual longing. Rapture of the senses. Another day in purgatory, which is a good day for them nonetheless.
Kassandra’s Journal (full entry)
9 April 2011I, Kassandra Morgante, High Master of the Blue Flame, am writing this for you, Oscar O’Leary, with the intention that you will ask me to read it.You have found me because I am your kin and True Friend. I am the only woman who can talk to your Star Heart. I will be your direction when you are ready to tap into the deepest part of your heart that calls for healing.One day you will understand why I live the way I do, and you will see the world from my perspective. I am of Venusian stock and I bring good tidings. And you are a true shaman and a gentleman, one whom a Star Woman like myself can’t resist. Your intuition is well developed, and at some level, you remember the true nature of our relationship.I was born to fulfill a Prophecy and help the evolution of our broken-hearted humankind into a race of immortal beings. You’re not given to know this now, because you can only bear with me to the extent to which your attention can handle my words. But one day soon, you will understand why I can talk to the deepest longings in a woman’s dreams and I can whisper seductive words into the ears of the toughest man, and make his fortress crumble. When my Power will be fully fledged, I will become invincible. We will be invulnerable.But right now, it isn’t so. And it wasn’t so when I used to be a spoiled brat who was often in denial of the gifts that I was born with. My True Nature only came to the fore when my path crossed yours, Oscar. When we met, I fell in love with the very complex, self-loathing yet generous man that you are. In our encounter, and in the love we made and shared, a new humanity became possible: our own. This is the account of how I learned to love you completely, despite the many obstacles on the way to the fulfillment of our love.My ancestry is part human and part stellar, much like yours, much like that of all of us on this planet. The difference between you and me is simply that I am programmed to remember my True Identity, and I am willing to share the path that took me there. It is not difficult to find the way back to your True Home and your True Destiny. But it does require some alternative thinking. And memories have to emerge from your own psyche to be original, to be aligned with the One Source. I hope that my presence can engage your attention and help you find your way back to that connection. Our relationship can provide you with a bit of a short cut, with a bridge across dimensions. Our union is a symbol of broader processes going on in the human species at present. Don’t listen to what they tell you. There is nothing wrong with the yearnings of your heart, and that feeling of alienation that overwhelms you sometimes. It’s your Star Seed calling you to the Light. But the ego has no use for an enlightened mind. So, as soon as life’s problems present themselves on the path, the human tendency is to lose sight of many aspects of our Souls. They then become Shadow Aspects that need to be expressed. Over time, we forget that they are illusions. Time has the habit of wiping the memory of our True Origin from our mind. But rest assured; your heart never let go of the Truth. I am here to re-awaken the Star Seed in your heart. My merge with you, my True Lover, can be read like a fairy-tale in consciousness. It operates on many levels if you decipher the signs accurately. But you must be willing to walk on the Way of the Truth, and unlearn all of the ego’s lies. I know, not all the steps may seem that clear to you, but they are true. And the Truth will always take you Home to Arkadia, the Land of Gods and Goddesses. Arkadia won’t be elsewhere in space and time once you become its living memory. Arkadia will be here, now. Look for parallels between my love for you and how you felt in relation to me. May my story mirror your awakening to your heart’s call. This is the reason why I am starting to disclose it.I remember, my Friend, that Life on Earth is an adventure in consciousness. Magic and wonder are possible. It takes a little bit of work and lots of enthusiasm. Are you ready to start the journey? It has many endings but just one beginning. Find it, and every step on the path will pan out. Trust me. Let’s go. Again.
[Continue reading Chapter Two: HYBRID YEARS]
When Kassandra landed back on the Hill of Tara in time for her appointment, her girlfriends were already in the souvenir shop adjacent to the cafeteria. The place would normally be packed with visitors in the summer months but it was pleasantly quiet at this time of the year. It was no surprise that Kassie had wanted to meet them there. The three women had a special connection with this ancient site.Letizia had baptized her firstborn here, according to the Goddess Tradition, on the Spring Equinox seven years earlier. The ceremony had been held on Tara’s holy ground, by the Stone of Destiny. Kassie had officiated the rites, with Polly as the godmother. Letizia had preferred to present her beautiful Daniel to the Mother before his traditional religious christening. Now the trio would be back together, to rekindle their bond as daughters of the Goddess.Polly and Letizia were excited about that afternoon’s rendezvous. It had been a while since they'd last seen their unconventional friend. Always full of surprises, a year or so earlier she had informed them that she needed to disappear from the social radar for a while. Just like that, out of the blue. Nobody knew where she had been or what she had been up to since. Kassandra was the most unpredictable person they knew. But they trusted her completely with her life choices. No matter how deeply she may end up in the Darkness, love would always sway her back to the Path of Love.Once again, she had left them in total oblivion of her deeds and given them cause for much speculation. Until a week previously, when she had contacted both friends telepathically, to let them know that she was soon to be back in Dublin and would love to see them on the Equinox. They should be warned, she had added, that the man she loved would be coming along too. "Oh no!!!!" were the words that had screamed in her friends' minds at the last piece of news.The appointment was at 2 pm. The women had arrived ten minutes early. No sign of Kassandra yet. But she was already at Tara and was now walking away from the sacred spring in the direction of the cafeteria. In the meantime, Letizia was flicking through books on Celtic art. Polly was eyeing the cupcakes and scones on display - any turmoil in her emotions would always command the complete attention of her stomach. She pulled Letizia away from the shelves and into the eating area. “Do you think we will still get on with her like in the good old days?”“Come on, Polly, be a bit more hopeful! It’s only been a year, and she’s just coming out of that strange period of isolation. She’s always been very hard to read, we know. But she’s the most heart-centered person in the world. And she’s perfectly aligned with her True Identity. We can only, as always, get on famously. I am more concerned with Oscar to be honest. He’s the one who seems to lose the plot on a regular basis...”“Well, let’s see if he turns up at all. It wouldn’t be the first time he’s let her down...”
Polly’s eyes darkened. She went to sit at the table by the window and started studying the trees and berry bushes outside. Nature’s spirits already knew what that afternoon had in store. She wished she could elicit that information in advance. But the only response that came from the world outside was the sound of raindrops falling on leaves.
Rehab, Dublin, April 2011
Why had Kassandra disappeared twelve or so months before hers and Oscar’s appointment at the Hill of Tara? Where was she? The setting where we find them one year earlier is completely different, despite being similarly set in a green and lush environment. We encounter our couple in the famous Hermitage, the five-star rehabilitation clinic in the south of Dublin where rich and troubled souls the world over come looking for some peace of mind and hardcore detox. Oscar has recognized her silhouette straight away as she is heading to sit under the porch in the rose garden. At first, he had tried to hold back for a few minutes before approaching her. His body was hungry for her, of course, and there was nothing he could do about it. But at least the sight of her face can now satisfy his eyes, if only for a stolen while. Kassandra is such a poignant vision of beauty. He wishes he’d brought along his drawing pad and pencils. He can’t really resist that long, can he? So he goes over and sits next to her.“Is that your journal, Kassie? Are you writing about me?”Kassandra looks up from the page and her eyes meet Oscar’s grinning face. She smiles and nods at him.“Well, yeah, I might very well have mentioned you in here,” she winks at him. “It’s a stream-of-consciousness exercise. I like to jot down the random thoughts that emerge in my head-space because sometimes they do take over and rule the entire thinking process. I follow them in writing, to see where they take me, where my imagination is leading me... there is truth in these words, even when they don’t make much sense. My memories can come across in an erratic manner sometimes...”They are flirting even under testing circumstances. They are supposed to feel guilty about their liaison, but they don’t. “Would you like me to have a look at these bizarre thoughts of yours then? I don’t think they can be any weirder than my own ideas...”.Kassandra feigns surprise. “I didn’t mean to say there is anything strange in what I wrote. This might sound a bit far-fetched perhaps, and I don’t really know the full purpose of this exercise as yet, but anyway, for what it’s worth...”Oscar puts his hand on Kassandra’s arm. When he touches her, their exchange of energy silences their words for a few seconds. She had been longing for that contact for the past two days. That’s why she had decided to bring her diary along when she went out on her afternoon walk. Oscar is a man of a curious disposition. She was certain that he would stop to inquire about the content of her scribbling. “Here, have a look”, she says. “This is the real me, not the woman that these doctors otherwise insist that I am...”Oscar takes her diary and reads the opening paragraph.I, Kassandra Morgante, High Master of the Blue Flame, am writing this for you, Oscar O’Leary, with the intention that you will ask me to read it.“Wow”, he says, and then lifts his eyes from the page to look at Kassandra. She is now laughing.“It seems that you always get what you want from me, Miss Morgante...”Kassandra notices that Oscar’s aura is turning to gold too quickly. He isn’t yet ready to absorb the information contained in her words. His passionate, very human nature is still prevailing, which endears him to her even more.“You can read another couple of sentences, but that’s all...”“Ok, boss! I’ll read aloud then, until it’s allowed.”You have found me because I am your kin and True Friend. I am the only woman who can talk to your Star Heart. I will be your direction when you are ready to tap into the deepest part of your heart that calls for healing.Oscar’s weak heart is racing already. He shouldn’t go any further. So Kassandra places her hands on the following lines of text.“Stop now, that’s it. You get the gist”.
The journal ends up on the bench. Their tongues start to explore the depths of their mutual longing. Rapture of the senses. Another day in purgatory, which is a good day for them nonetheless.
Kassandra’s Journal (full entry)
9 April 2011I, Kassandra Morgante, High Master of the Blue Flame, am writing this for you, Oscar O’Leary, with the intention that you will ask me to read it.You have found me because I am your kin and True Friend. I am the only woman who can talk to your Star Heart. I will be your direction when you are ready to tap into the deepest part of your heart that calls for healing.One day you will understand why I live the way I do, and you will see the world from my perspective. I am of Venusian stock and I bring good tidings. And you are a true shaman and a gentleman, one whom a Star Woman like myself can’t resist. Your intuition is well developed, and at some level, you remember the true nature of our relationship.I was born to fulfill a Prophecy and help the evolution of our broken-hearted humankind into a race of immortal beings. You’re not given to know this now, because you can only bear with me to the extent to which your attention can handle my words. But one day soon, you will understand why I can talk to the deepest longings in a woman’s dreams and I can whisper seductive words into the ears of the toughest man, and make his fortress crumble. When my Power will be fully fledged, I will become invincible. We will be invulnerable.But right now, it isn’t so. And it wasn’t so when I used to be a spoiled brat who was often in denial of the gifts that I was born with. My True Nature only came to the fore when my path crossed yours, Oscar. When we met, I fell in love with the very complex, self-loathing yet generous man that you are. In our encounter, and in the love we made and shared, a new humanity became possible: our own. This is the account of how I learned to love you completely, despite the many obstacles on the way to the fulfillment of our love.My ancestry is part human and part stellar, much like yours, much like that of all of us on this planet. The difference between you and me is simply that I am programmed to remember my True Identity, and I am willing to share the path that took me there. It is not difficult to find the way back to your True Home and your True Destiny. But it does require some alternative thinking. And memories have to emerge from your own psyche to be original, to be aligned with the One Source. I hope that my presence can engage your attention and help you find your way back to that connection. Our relationship can provide you with a bit of a short cut, with a bridge across dimensions. Our union is a symbol of broader processes going on in the human species at present. Don’t listen to what they tell you. There is nothing wrong with the yearnings of your heart, and that feeling of alienation that overwhelms you sometimes. It’s your Star Seed calling you to the Light. But the ego has no use for an enlightened mind. So, as soon as life’s problems present themselves on the path, the human tendency is to lose sight of many aspects of our Souls. They then become Shadow Aspects that need to be expressed. Over time, we forget that they are illusions. Time has the habit of wiping the memory of our True Origin from our mind. But rest assured; your heart never let go of the Truth. I am here to re-awaken the Star Seed in your heart. My merge with you, my True Lover, can be read like a fairy-tale in consciousness. It operates on many levels if you decipher the signs accurately. But you must be willing to walk on the Way of the Truth, and unlearn all of the ego’s lies. I know, not all the steps may seem that clear to you, but they are true. And the Truth will always take you Home to Arkadia, the Land of Gods and Goddesses. Arkadia won’t be elsewhere in space and time once you become its living memory. Arkadia will be here, now. Look for parallels between my love for you and how you felt in relation to me. May my story mirror your awakening to your heart’s call. This is the reason why I am starting to disclose it.I remember, my Friend, that Life on Earth is an adventure in consciousness. Magic and wonder are possible. It takes a little bit of work and lots of enthusiasm. Are you ready to start the journey? It has many endings but just one beginning. Find it, and every step on the path will pan out. Trust me. Let’s go. Again.
[Continue reading Chapter Two: HYBRID YEARS]
Chapter One (2)
CHAPTER ONE (2)
Hill of Tara, Ireland, Spring Equinox 2012
The hard surface of a rock welcomed my landing and I was jolted back from the World of Light into the material world. I looked around. The sacred spring was just a couple of steps away. I was in the right place, no doubt: the holy ground they call “Tara of the Kings”. Which to me would always be Tara of the Heart: the site of the ancient choice, and the hill that keeps the mark of our promise.
The Tara Interdimensional Portal I had come through had been used for ages by Venusians and humans alike. The ancient people of Ireland were familiar with its true function, and it was no coincidence they had placed their tribes’ seat of power at this magical junction. And no surprise that you and I would always be drawn to this place. I shook the dust off my clothes and rejoiced at the found-again solidity of my limbs, jumping up and down on the spot to appreciate the power of gravity. I was grounded and unscathed. Descent from Light into matter could still be risky, even for a consumed time-traveler like myself. I wasn’t concerned for the safety of my physical vessel. The danger was that traveling back in time could have played havoc with my mind. So I closed my eyes and scanned my memory. It was all in one piece, it seemed, and responding to old triggers. Your face came back to my mind’s eye at once. And my heart expanded, or so it seemed.“Oscar, my love.”I was on a mission to find you. The thought of you made me smile. My human name also returned to my consciousness.“Kassandra. I am Kassandra. I’m back.”A buzzing sound came from the pocket of my coat. It came from my iPhone. The calendar app had just sent me a reminder:Meet Oscar at Tara, 21 March 2012, 14:30 PM.All those years ago, I had summoned you here on the first day of spring, to resurrect our love if needed, if the wrong turn on our paths had ever made us part. Our love must have died then, I realized. Never mind. Here I was again, to bring it back to life with all of my heart’s might, to let the Blue Flame guide us back to the Truth of our bond.“I’m looking for you. Hello? Oscar? Can you hear me?”My voice sounded sweet as it pleaded you to appear. I listened for your telepathic answer but no sound was forthcoming. Just whirling feelings rising inside my chest like a tornado, and the cavalcade of my blood throbbing in my veins. What was going on? It felt as though the lies that I had been fed by the Dark Forces were being whipped out of the alcoves of my recollection, to be scattered to the Irish wind. I was being freed from that mistake, and we were being given our second chance. The Earth was our powerful ally. It was quite different from when I had left it years before. It still looked the same, though fear had since spread everywhere, taking on a number of disguises. I understood the planet needed our love to be, as much as we needed each other. Trepidant joy returned to my perspective. No need to waste any more time. I tuned into the environment to detect your frequency; we had to meet soon. I forced myself to ignore the nagging voice of the ghost of my ego, and its pointless message. I had to trust that you would be coming to our appointment. I had to put my love for you over everything else. “Doubt has no reason to be here.”The song of the stream intertwined with the sound of my whispering voice. In union with the environment, I was alone but I was connected with you again. Suddenly my cells started to reverberate to the unique signature we had created with our Alchemical Marriage. I became sure I was talking to you.“Oscar! My love! You still understand the Secret Language!”My eyes lingered on the place where we had sealed our pact fifteen years earlier, as if they expected to see you there. In my mind, I held the picture of your hazel eyes, the curve of the cupid bow of your upper lip, your tapered fingers moving towards my face. My blood felt the thrill of recognition, as if you were there, holding me in your arms, as if it were still happening. Memories flooded in. We were still young: eternity was within reach of our hands and sunshine was in our hearts. We thought we had seen the back of all our past troubles. In those carefree days, we didn’t know that the Darkness would later plague our lives again. Well, we had known shadows before, so it wasn’t in our plans to experience the tragedy that would unfold. I kept talking. I was certain then that my words would find you, my Twin Flame. The woman in love took over what little Venusian poise was left in me. I wanted to make love with you, become one with the land, with the air around me. Yet I felt so vulnerable and human.“I’m back from a parallel future without you. Crumbs from that future are still stuck in my hair so I am not sure if my return is complete, or if you can hear what I’m saying now. Yet you did understand me during our glorious time together. I would speak to the clouds and you could hear me. Now I don’t even know if you remember my face anymore. The face you would gaze at in silence, for minutes, your eyes and my eyes locked into bliss time couldn’t enter... I see you’ve managed to cloud your mind without the torch I carried for you, without the Light I shared with you. Oh darling, you’re so hopeless…”
I remembered that I had also been very angry with you because you had hurt me to the bone. And that I had forgiven you anyway. Harmonious sounds were emerging from the landscape and from my soul. Church bells were ringing in the distance. I ran my fingers through the water of the spring, caressing it as if it were your hair. I welcomed back that divided sensation I always felt when I loved you like a woman: torn between the wholeness you brought to me and the threat of knowing you might also take it away from me, as you had done before. “Our dance was erratic at best, traumatic as a rule. My instinct tells me you still need my help, like many times before. I am starting to believe that you are beyond repair. It’s always been like that with you. But I won’t give up. I had to come from the future to be at your side, to get you out any hole you might have dug yourself into. Will you ever learn from your mistakes? Why do you always let your mind travel back to the past? You carry that past with you and by that very past you let yourself be defined. Let’s blame it on your human ancestry, on your romantic streak...”If you heard me, you were probably starting to be pissed off at me for being on what you would call my 'high horse'. I looked at the sky and all around me. Fluffy clouds parted over the vast, quiet backdrop. A ray of sunshine fell on the encircling pastures. Cows were grazing absent-mindedly. Everything reminded me of you. And the Earth, my powerful ally, was paying close attention to my actions again.“I’m here to resurrect our relationship. I have to. This way we may meet again and patch up those seams in our souls we tore apart. There is another way, Oscar, and we can find it. Bear with me (despite your attention deficit, I thought). I’m not mad with you, I swear. So please don’t be angry with me. I don’t care about the Plan or the Prophecy. I just want you back. You know, a Star Woman’s words are full of Power, and they can cut like a knife. So I am choosing mine carefully.” Up in the sky, an airplane commenced its descent over Dublin Bay and into the city’s airport. You were on it, headphones on, gazing out of the window. The second you felt my caress, your eyes turned the color of the night. You right hand moved to your chest - your heart was racing.Back at Tara, I continued my seeming conversation with the water.“My heart keeps the record of the past nineteen eventful years. What they feel like from my point of view. From the comfort of my future stance, I looked back on facts and people, and us. What happened between us never fails to surprise me. The whole idea that the Darkness sold you... that the love we made was too much for you to hold on to... My heart still leaps at the memory of us together, the emotional content of our merge, the powerful union of man and woman: two bodies becoming one soul. I was born to find you, not to let you go.”I was crying. I wasn’t sad. I was just opening up, unlocking the fortress. After all those years, that lump in my throat stirred itself awake. The emotions it held captive crept out and wanted to be heard. We had loved so well. How could we let our love die? And could we ever breathe life into it again? I felt hollow, empty, and then lighter. That was the definite sign I had landed back into your life. I knew that you could at least sense my influence there and then, in your world. “In those years before I met you I was driven by a relentless force, by an incredible amount of love. My life was pulled in your direction, although I didn’t know it at the time. You were my purpose. Your heart is a magnet to me. Where has it gone now? What tune is it dancing to? Is it still dancing, I wonder… Can you not see what has become of you?”A flock of ravens cackled above the plain. A warm breeze rose and caressed my suntanned face in its trail. Back on the airplane, your iPod was playing a Doors’ song whose words held meaning to you: “Awake. Shake dreams from your hair my pretty child, my sweet one.” [
The hard surface of a rock welcomed my landing and I was jolted back from the World of Light into the material world. I looked around. The sacred spring was just a couple of steps away. I was in the right place, no doubt: the holy ground they call “Tara of the Kings”. Which to me would always be Tara of the Heart: the site of the ancient choice, and the hill that keeps the mark of our promise.
The Tara Interdimensional Portal I had come through had been used for ages by Venusians and humans alike. The ancient people of Ireland were familiar with its true function, and it was no coincidence they had placed their tribes’ seat of power at this magical junction. And no surprise that you and I would always be drawn to this place. I shook the dust off my clothes and rejoiced at the found-again solidity of my limbs, jumping up and down on the spot to appreciate the power of gravity. I was grounded and unscathed. Descent from Light into matter could still be risky, even for a consumed time-traveler like myself. I wasn’t concerned for the safety of my physical vessel. The danger was that traveling back in time could have played havoc with my mind. So I closed my eyes and scanned my memory. It was all in one piece, it seemed, and responding to old triggers. Your face came back to my mind’s eye at once. And my heart expanded, or so it seemed.“Oscar, my love.”I was on a mission to find you. The thought of you made me smile. My human name also returned to my consciousness.“Kassandra. I am Kassandra. I’m back.”A buzzing sound came from the pocket of my coat. It came from my iPhone. The calendar app had just sent me a reminder:Meet Oscar at Tara, 21 March 2012, 14:30 PM.All those years ago, I had summoned you here on the first day of spring, to resurrect our love if needed, if the wrong turn on our paths had ever made us part. Our love must have died then, I realized. Never mind. Here I was again, to bring it back to life with all of my heart’s might, to let the Blue Flame guide us back to the Truth of our bond.“I’m looking for you. Hello? Oscar? Can you hear me?”My voice sounded sweet as it pleaded you to appear. I listened for your telepathic answer but no sound was forthcoming. Just whirling feelings rising inside my chest like a tornado, and the cavalcade of my blood throbbing in my veins. What was going on? It felt as though the lies that I had been fed by the Dark Forces were being whipped out of the alcoves of my recollection, to be scattered to the Irish wind. I was being freed from that mistake, and we were being given our second chance. The Earth was our powerful ally. It was quite different from when I had left it years before. It still looked the same, though fear had since spread everywhere, taking on a number of disguises. I understood the planet needed our love to be, as much as we needed each other. Trepidant joy returned to my perspective. No need to waste any more time. I tuned into the environment to detect your frequency; we had to meet soon. I forced myself to ignore the nagging voice of the ghost of my ego, and its pointless message. I had to trust that you would be coming to our appointment. I had to put my love for you over everything else. “Doubt has no reason to be here.”The song of the stream intertwined with the sound of my whispering voice. In union with the environment, I was alone but I was connected with you again. Suddenly my cells started to reverberate to the unique signature we had created with our Alchemical Marriage. I became sure I was talking to you.“Oscar! My love! You still understand the Secret Language!”My eyes lingered on the place where we had sealed our pact fifteen years earlier, as if they expected to see you there. In my mind, I held the picture of your hazel eyes, the curve of the cupid bow of your upper lip, your tapered fingers moving towards my face. My blood felt the thrill of recognition, as if you were there, holding me in your arms, as if it were still happening. Memories flooded in. We were still young: eternity was within reach of our hands and sunshine was in our hearts. We thought we had seen the back of all our past troubles. In those carefree days, we didn’t know that the Darkness would later plague our lives again. Well, we had known shadows before, so it wasn’t in our plans to experience the tragedy that would unfold. I kept talking. I was certain then that my words would find you, my Twin Flame. The woman in love took over what little Venusian poise was left in me. I wanted to make love with you, become one with the land, with the air around me. Yet I felt so vulnerable and human.“I’m back from a parallel future without you. Crumbs from that future are still stuck in my hair so I am not sure if my return is complete, or if you can hear what I’m saying now. Yet you did understand me during our glorious time together. I would speak to the clouds and you could hear me. Now I don’t even know if you remember my face anymore. The face you would gaze at in silence, for minutes, your eyes and my eyes locked into bliss time couldn’t enter... I see you’ve managed to cloud your mind without the torch I carried for you, without the Light I shared with you. Oh darling, you’re so hopeless…”
I remembered that I had also been very angry with you because you had hurt me to the bone. And that I had forgiven you anyway. Harmonious sounds were emerging from the landscape and from my soul. Church bells were ringing in the distance. I ran my fingers through the water of the spring, caressing it as if it were your hair. I welcomed back that divided sensation I always felt when I loved you like a woman: torn between the wholeness you brought to me and the threat of knowing you might also take it away from me, as you had done before. “Our dance was erratic at best, traumatic as a rule. My instinct tells me you still need my help, like many times before. I am starting to believe that you are beyond repair. It’s always been like that with you. But I won’t give up. I had to come from the future to be at your side, to get you out any hole you might have dug yourself into. Will you ever learn from your mistakes? Why do you always let your mind travel back to the past? You carry that past with you and by that very past you let yourself be defined. Let’s blame it on your human ancestry, on your romantic streak...”If you heard me, you were probably starting to be pissed off at me for being on what you would call my 'high horse'. I looked at the sky and all around me. Fluffy clouds parted over the vast, quiet backdrop. A ray of sunshine fell on the encircling pastures. Cows were grazing absent-mindedly. Everything reminded me of you. And the Earth, my powerful ally, was paying close attention to my actions again.“I’m here to resurrect our relationship. I have to. This way we may meet again and patch up those seams in our souls we tore apart. There is another way, Oscar, and we can find it. Bear with me (despite your attention deficit, I thought). I’m not mad with you, I swear. So please don’t be angry with me. I don’t care about the Plan or the Prophecy. I just want you back. You know, a Star Woman’s words are full of Power, and they can cut like a knife. So I am choosing mine carefully.” Up in the sky, an airplane commenced its descent over Dublin Bay and into the city’s airport. You were on it, headphones on, gazing out of the window. The second you felt my caress, your eyes turned the color of the night. You right hand moved to your chest - your heart was racing.Back at Tara, I continued my seeming conversation with the water.“My heart keeps the record of the past nineteen eventful years. What they feel like from my point of view. From the comfort of my future stance, I looked back on facts and people, and us. What happened between us never fails to surprise me. The whole idea that the Darkness sold you... that the love we made was too much for you to hold on to... My heart still leaps at the memory of us together, the emotional content of our merge, the powerful union of man and woman: two bodies becoming one soul. I was born to find you, not to let you go.”I was crying. I wasn’t sad. I was just opening up, unlocking the fortress. After all those years, that lump in my throat stirred itself awake. The emotions it held captive crept out and wanted to be heard. We had loved so well. How could we let our love die? And could we ever breathe life into it again? I felt hollow, empty, and then lighter. That was the definite sign I had landed back into your life. I knew that you could at least sense my influence there and then, in your world. “In those years before I met you I was driven by a relentless force, by an incredible amount of love. My life was pulled in your direction, although I didn’t know it at the time. You were my purpose. Your heart is a magnet to me. Where has it gone now? What tune is it dancing to? Is it still dancing, I wonder… Can you not see what has become of you?”A flock of ravens cackled above the plain. A warm breeze rose and caressed my suntanned face in its trail. Back on the airplane, your iPod was playing a Doors’ song whose words held meaning to you: “Awake. Shake dreams from your hair my pretty child, my sweet one.” [
August 28, 2016
A Little Help From YOR Health with Supplements & Shakes
An energy boost to help you through the day
Between running my own company and a number of personal development events, living between Dublin and London, and having an intensively physical approach to live, a year ago I found myself often feeling tired, run down and in need of a major refresh! Eating healthy and living a fit lifestyle was definitely not easy, like most of you I bet, I was on the go 24/7. Sometimes it's just easier (and more satisfying!) to have that pizza for dinner after a long day at work and skip the gym for a spot on the sofa. If you are anything like me, convenience is key when trying to start a new routine and YOR Health Supplements are there to help!I was introduced to the YOR Health supplement line back in August 2015; right around the time my health routine had hit a plateau (read: mid-life crisis). I was looking for a new kickstart that would provide me with energy to get through my busy days, but that was convenient at the same time.
YOR Health has a simple philosphy, “You are what you absorb”. With 30 years of research and clinical application, the brand only uses the highest quality ingredients from the best local and global resources. The products can also be tailored to help achieve your end goal. Whether it is weight loss or increased energy, YOR Health has a product to help!My goal was a combination of weight loss and increased energy so the products I used were the YOR Shake, YOR Supergreens. YOR Digest Ultra and YOR Berry Blast. On the whole, all the products worked well together and provided an overall energised feeling that lasted all day long.My favourite product had to be the YOR Shake. I typically find most protein shakes to be undrinkable unless you throw tons of fruit or yoghurt in the mix. These shakes tasted great and kept me full throughout the morning. They were such an easy breakfast option and I would honestly wake up looking forward to having chocolaty shake! I also started having them after really tough workouts and since they are low in calories but high in protein, they were the perfect post workout snack! One tip for the shakes – they taste best when blended with ice and cold water. Definitely invest in a small blender to make these shakes – you won’t be disappointed!If you would like to get your hands on any of these healthy goodies and get your body back on track, simply click here and start ordering!
w
ww.yorhealth360.com/pierasarasini
Between running my own company and a number of personal development events, living between Dublin and London, and having an intensively physical approach to live, a year ago I found myself often feeling tired, run down and in need of a major refresh! Eating healthy and living a fit lifestyle was definitely not easy, like most of you I bet, I was on the go 24/7. Sometimes it's just easier (and more satisfying!) to have that pizza for dinner after a long day at work and skip the gym for a spot on the sofa. If you are anything like me, convenience is key when trying to start a new routine and YOR Health Supplements are there to help!I was introduced to the YOR Health supplement line back in August 2015; right around the time my health routine had hit a plateau (read: mid-life crisis). I was looking for a new kickstart that would provide me with energy to get through my busy days, but that was convenient at the same time.
YOR Health has a simple philosphy, “You are what you absorb”. With 30 years of research and clinical application, the brand only uses the highest quality ingredients from the best local and global resources. The products can also be tailored to help achieve your end goal. Whether it is weight loss or increased energy, YOR Health has a product to help!My goal was a combination of weight loss and increased energy so the products I used were the YOR Shake, YOR Supergreens. YOR Digest Ultra and YOR Berry Blast. On the whole, all the products worked well together and provided an overall energised feeling that lasted all day long.My favourite product had to be the YOR Shake. I typically find most protein shakes to be undrinkable unless you throw tons of fruit or yoghurt in the mix. These shakes tasted great and kept me full throughout the morning. They were such an easy breakfast option and I would honestly wake up looking forward to having chocolaty shake! I also started having them after really tough workouts and since they are low in calories but high in protein, they were the perfect post workout snack! One tip for the shakes – they taste best when blended with ice and cold water. Definitely invest in a small blender to make these shakes – you won’t be disappointed!If you would like to get your hands on any of these healthy goodies and get your body back on track, simply click here and start ordering!
w
ww.yorhealth360.com/pierasarasini
January 30, 2014
Chapter One: "EARTHBOUND AGAIN"
Chapter OneEARTHBOUND AGAIN
Arkadia, Out of Time The wheels of spring were turning in the timeless land of Arkadia and in the mortal plane below it. Up in the sky, three months before its transit across the face of the Sun, Venus was already shining its serene light on its pioneering children who had left it eons before. They now lived in Arkadia, a parallel dimension closer to the Earth, their neighboring planet. The Goddess Games were in full swing at that time of the year. The Blue Flames in the cores of the Arkadians, the Ancient Venusian Settlers, brimmed with the ecstasy of attraction, made even more magnetic by the frequency of their Native Star. The Soul Mates and Twin Flames among them would soon be drawn to merge into Sacred Union. On Earth, too, human hearts could not be spared from stirring to the tides of love. That spring, Oscar O’Leary was in Paris, France, still dodging the lures of death and surviving what he called a meaningless existence. Hope, however faint, was still alive for the rekindling of the love between this complex man and the most evolved Venusian woman. At least for a little while longer.The woman Oscar had loved was none other than the Arkadian Princess. At this point in the story, she was alone in her bedchamber, opening the window to welcome the warmth of the morning sun. Her sleepy green eyes were fixed on the cloudless sky as she was running her fingers through her hair, caressing it is if belonged to someone else. Blessed with the most comely human shape and the purest stellar essence, her movements were enthralling and elegant, like the contents of her mind. Her Venusian name was Meta. Being of royal stock, she possessed all the classic Venusian traits. Her love-inspiring presence, imperscrutable and hypnotic stare and perfectly symmetric shape made her the champion of the Arkadian ideal. And she was a most stunning woman by human standards too. The Princess was one of the Ancient Founders of the Diamond Island of Arkadia, the Venusian Outpost that had long become their Earthly dwelling. Her human name, Kassandra, had now left her memory. Her mission had failed and the High Council was preparing her to return to Venus. The mating season had started. The bird-song’s sweetness, so light-hearted and wild, sounded irresistible. Meta could recognize a familiar longing for physical merging ripening in her body. She felt lonely - a very human emotion. Faint memories of nights of passion in the arms of her lover still emerged in her soul, untamed by the recent reprogramming that her mind had to undergo at the hands of the High Masters. The sun shone waves of gold on her long brown hair as she stretched out her arms, palms facing up, to invite two robins singing on the apple tree to come closer. She needed their company to take her mind off the gaping hole that was widening in her heart. “Do you know how lucky you are, my friends? You have found each other. You still need each other...”The birds, a male and a female, had flown towards her and were now cooing and chirping away on her windowsill. They loved to be around the Princess. All kinds of living beings could easily tune into her Core Signature, to partake in the bliss of her nature. She, the clearest channel of the One Source there in Arkadia, was now watching her feathered visitors with great affection and curiosity, and a hint of jealousy. Their mating rituals were driven by the Life Force, and their mutual desire reminded her of a happy time when she, too, had become vulnerable to romantic love. Now her connection with the Source had to be constant. Longing was no longer necessary or advisable at the level of the Goddess Games that she had reached, as the High Masters kept telling her.Meta’s apartments were in the Ivory Palace, the isolation quarters where Perfected Channels like her were lodged. Here, they could shine their Light in direct connection with the Universe, undisturbed by the opposing polarity of the Earth below, before ascending back to Venus. At last, the Princess’s life had a purpose again, if not the one she was born to fulfill. In Arkadia, it was considered a great gift to feel the Power of Eternity to the extent that she could. So why wasn’t she experiencing complete peace? She didn’t seem to have any agency or any personal answers anymore. Most of her thoughts were now coming straight from the Source, as if she were a mere spectator of her beautiful mind-scape. She had no Twin Flame either, she had been informed. Nor would she have one in the future, once she returned to the Native Star. Kyrius, her father and the Arkadian King, had decided to keep his only daughter in the sanctum of the Palace, where she could ponder over the Truth. This was necessary before she could be granted a farewell visit to the physical dimension in her human incarnation. In the meantime, uninterrupted connection with the Source was the only way to stop her from thinking about Oscar O’Leary, her human lover. It had to be done. Her memories of that relationship were bringing low resonance to the Holy Precincts of Elysia, Arkadia’s capital city. To her father’s relief, Meta’s thoughts were now vibrating at such a high rate again that she should have no notion left of the man she had loved, and how he had broken her heart. No dense frequency was allowed to enter Arkadia at that delicate junction in Planetary Evolution. The Council of the High Masters had had no other option but to delete any recollection of the temperamental Irish artist from the Princess’s mental files. Without announcement, the disembodied voice of Prince Lumiel filled Meta’s chamber, shifting her attention away from the lovebirds and the longings of her heart.“I sense it’s time for another visit to Earth, sister. Are you ready?”Lumiel’s thoughts had the characteristic musical tinkle of Arkadian speech. Although her brother was elsewhere in Elysia, the cells in Meta’s body recognized the familiar pitch and harmonized with the content of the message at once. His tone was grave, given the momentous occasion that awaited the stellar Princess. Yet mysterious waves of mischief were enmeshed in his words, and she was glad to feel them.“I get the message, Lu, the full message...”Her lips gave way to a smile and the Blue Flame started to radiate from her heart like a beacon. The joy that sprinkled from her Core was effortless and almost liquid. Her feathered visitors stopped their song to inhale the atoms in the air around her. She turned away from the window and caught her reflection in the mirror. The moment she did, she gave out a sigh, as she would every time she saw her face’s reflection. Unbeknown to her, her own features would always remind her subconsciously of the face of her lover, her Soul Gestalt, her Alchemical Husband, her Twin Flame.“I heard you, Meta! And I also feel a strange vacuum in that precious heart of yours”, Lumiel said from his mansion by the Crystal Lake.He knew that his sister was still in love with a man whose Blue Flame had only been partially kindled, and then left unattended by her forced return to Arkadia. She wasn’t conscious of it, but the cells of her body carried the imprint of the love that Oscar had given her, and taken away. The Ancient Venusian Prophecy could still come true if Meta continued to carry the torch for the future of the host planet. But she had forgotten. She had been made to forget because something had gone wrong with the Arkadian Plan. Right at that moment, the Council was in session. The High Masters would soon reach a decision that could help her make amends with her past: whether she should be allowed to see Oscar one final time before taking her journey back to Venus.Meta wasn’t supposed to know any of this. But Lumiel couldn’t keep his telepathic mouth shut. The least that he could do for his sister was to instill some information in advance. He wanted her to heal her past. He loved the Earth as much as she did. Although he wasn’t sure anymore that the other Arkadians were as enamored with the third dimension, the Earth’s physical realm, as he and Meta were. Not many Arkadians really understood humanity as well as the Royal Siblings did. And no, he had no intention of going back to Venus. Meta had never stopped longing to see her former lover again. It didn’t matter that the Council had removed most of her memories from her mental files. Her True Identity was firmly fixed in the Blue Flame in her heart and it still held on to those human feelings she had experienced in Oscar’s arms. The Flame, a speckle of the Primordial Thought in the Mind of the Universe, creates all life-forms around it. It is holy and nobody can alter it. Not even the Council can interfere with it. A vague remembrance of her lover had nested in her body cells, ready to be reactivated at the right time, once it had become refined and could resonate with the Arkadian Plan once more. It couldn’t be otherwise: love is the only rule there is in the Goddess Games. “I really hope they’ll let me go back to Ireland... that’s where I must go, one more time... and may Arkadia stay safe and bright in my absence. I don’t even know what reason is calling me to leave this place, but I can’t look at myself in the mirror without feeling that something is missing in me. I am incomplete, partial... longing has entered my soul... so much for being a Perfected Channel... I feel complete only when I don’t think about myself...”Lumiel was delighted that his sister was directing her energy back to a low frequency. That would help her descent into matter, which would also open the path for his own return to the material plane. Lady Myriam, his Twin Flame, wouldn’t be disappointed with his secret designs this time. He cast his glance across the imperturbable blue pond and allowed his thoughts to become still.“You will remember, dear Meta, and it will all be okay again”.In days of old, her thoughts had been fueled by the passion that she felt for her Twin Flame, and he for her. Then their interwoven destinies had been torn apart. The Ancient Venusian Prophecy had announced the cross-fertilization of Venusians and Humans through the act of love. Meta was born to be the first Venusian with the right amount of human features to kick-start this evolutionary momentum. She had found her human mirror in Oscar O’Leary, and all had seemed to go according to the Arkadian Plan. But their love story had turned sour in the end. The hurts inflicted on her emotions had left scars that the Light Frequency of the Arkadian Island couldn’t tolerate. Arkadia was in the fifth dimension where matter existed in its potential state, as a perfect idea in the Mind of the Source. The island’s very existence relied upon the harmonized drone produced by the sounds of its inhabitants’ Cores. The frequencies emitted by their Royalty were of particular importance. The place was founded on the almost constant connection that its population could maintain with the Source of Creation, and the tones produced by their thought-waves in unison with the resonance of the Sacred Stones in the Temple Mountain. Arkadia was now taking on more Earthly undertones and becoming heavier, partly because of Meta’s heartache, despite its being shadowed by forgetfulness.Meanwhile, Time itself was changing its essence back on Earth, and acquiring more Venusian, more refined connotations. Its marks on the plane of matter were becoming less pronounced. In the spring of 2012, it looked as though the Earth was following the Way of the Universe, and Arkadia had to give up some of its Light to facilitate the process. Although humans would still forget easily that love is the direction and fear is the illusion, and despite the fact that their physical vessels were still made of gross matter that tended to pull everything into a third-dimensional frequency, the Way of the Universe is unbeatable.“Meta, remember that you must keep your heart on love, and only love, in your travels, as that’s the only direction there is...”Lumiel’s words were soothing and meaningful. The Princess could sense the Blue Flame shimmering in her chest in anticipation. She had been put in isolation. They had told her it was the most prized recognition. She was the Highest of the High now. But she didn’t believe them anymore. She was merely wearing a brave face. Soon, as her rebellious brother kept reassuring her, doubt would lower her frequency and help her condense into matter, irreversibly. This way, whether the Council agreed or not, she would find herself in the third dimension, where she could stay as long as she liked.For a little while longer, Arkadian procedure had to be followed and rules had to be respected. The Arkadian Masters still wanted to help, it was obvious. But she had chosen to do things her own way, and her decision was final. A knock came on the door and her train of thoughts was suddenly cut short.“Meta... I’ve come to accompany you to the Hall”.“Mother”, the Princess said as she curtsied to the Queen.Their two auras merged into vibrant sapphire as their shapes dissolved and disappeared. Then Meta looked around and noticed that the backdrop had changed. Under the opulent vaults of the Diamond Lodge, her slight silhouette now stood alone in front of the Council. The High Masters had reached their decision and she didn’t even need to hear their words. Their thoughts were a deep, low sound, throbbing harmoniously. She could sense it permeate all the sinews and bones in her body as it was becoming heavier and more solid. Her hands were shaking. Descent into matter was approaching. Any attempt to resist would be futile now.Then she remembered - something had gone wrong with the Venusian Prophecy. Humankind hadn’t evolved into their foretold stellar potential. Had she failed her people? How had she ended up in Arkadia again? She had to go back to Earth, to find someone who had become lost, who had made the wrong choice and taken the wrong turn, following the lures of the Dark Forces. The Council wanted her to fix his mistake. Did they blame her for it? That couldn’t be the case, Arkadians were not capable of low feelings. He, whoever he was... it was he who was blaming himself, and she was feeling his pain.“The Venusian Plan can’t fail,” the King was saying. “You must find him.” Meta’s head was spinning now, as if some of her thoughts were being vacuumed out of her brain. Perhaps they were.“Find who? And why me?”She couldn’t recollect any particular face or name yet. Her heart was pounding and pulling her towards her destiny again, to her life as a woman, a star woman, a woman in love. There was no time left for explanations: the right space-time junction was drawing near.“You will remember once you reach the Earth, time-coordinates 21-03-2012. We cannot intervene. Only your True Identity can guide you. Only the Source can mentor the one you’re looking for, so you must always act in line with the Source. You must realign him with the Plan if you can, if you want to stop humanity’s fate from plunging into even lower depths.”Meta’s eyes were like saucers and her lips were lost for words. She felt numb and drained of all energy. But the Star Seed in her heart was like a sparkling wheel. Then silence fell on the Hall like a heavy curtain, torn apart by the sudden metallic noise of the door to the Teleportation Room now opening behind her. The Princess dragged her feet towards it, looking every inch the sacrificial victim. On the threshold, she stopped to cast one last, disconsolate glance at those familiar faces.
“Goodbye, Arkadia. This time I’m done with you”, she said. And she stepped into her past.
Hill of Tara, Ireland, Spring Equinox 2012
The hard surface of a rock welcomed my landing and I was jolted back from the World of Light into the material world. I looked around. The sacred spring was just a couple of steps away. I was in the right place, no doubt: the holy ground they call “Tara of the Kings”. Which to me would always be Tara of the Heart: the site of the ancient choice, and the hill that keeps the mark of our promise.
The Tara Interdimensional Portal I had come through had been used for ages by Venusians and humans alike. The ancient people of Ireland were familiar with its true function, and it was no coincidence they had placed their tribes’ seat of power at this magical junction. And no surprise that you and I would always be drawn to this place. I shook the dust off my clothes and rejoiced at the found-again solidity of my limbs, jumping up and down on the spot to appreciate the power of gravity. I was grounded and unscathed. Descent from Light into matter could still be risky, even for a consumed time-traveler like myself. I wasn’t concerned for the safety of my physical vessel. The danger was that traveling back in time could have played havoc with my mind. So I closed my eyes and scanned my memory. It was all in one piece, it seemed, and responding to old triggers. Your face came back to my mind’s eye at once. And my heart expanded, or so it seemed.“Oscar, my love.”I was on a mission to find you. The thought of you made me smile. My human name also returned to my consciousness.“Kassandra. I am Kassandra. I’m back.”A buzzing sound came from the pocket of my coat. It came from my iPhone. The calendar app had just sent me a reminder:Meet Oscar at Tara, 21 March 2012, 14:30 PM.All those years ago, I had summoned you here on the first day of spring, to resurrect our love if needed, if the wrong turn on our paths had ever made us part. Our love must have died then, I realized. Never mind. Here I was again, to bring it back to life with all of my heart’s might, to let the Blue Flame guide us back to the Truth of our bond.“I’m looking for you. Hello? Oscar? Can you hear me?”My voice sounded sweet as it pleaded you to appear. I listened for your telepathic answer but no sound was forthcoming. Just whirling feelings rising inside my chest like a tornado, and the cavalcade of my blood throbbing in my veins. What was going on? It felt as though the lies that I had been fed by the Dark Forces were being whipped out of the alcoves of my recollection, to be scattered to the Irish wind. I was being freed from that mistake, and we were being given our second chance. The Earth was our powerful ally. It was quite different from when I had left it years before. It still looked the same, though fear had since spread everywhere, taking on a number of disguises. I understood the planet needed our love to be, as much as we needed each other. Trepidant joy returned to my perspective. No need to waste any more time. I tuned into the environment to detect your frequency; we had to meet soon. I forced myself to ignore the nagging voice of the ghost of my ego, and its pointless message. I had to trust that you would be coming to our appointment. I had to put my love for you over everything else. “Doubt has no reason to be here.”The song of the stream intertwined with the sound of my whispering voice. In union with the environment, I was alone but I was connected with you again. Suddenly my cells started to reverberate to the unique signature we had created with our Alchemical Marriage. I became sure I was talking to you.“Oscar! My love! You still understand the Secret Language!”My eyes lingered on the place where we had sealed our pact fifteen years earlier, as if they expected to see you there. In my mind, I held the picture of your hazel eyes, the curve of the cupid bow of your upper lip, your tapered fingers moving towards my face. My blood felt the thrill of recognition, as if you were there, holding me in your arms, as if it were still happening. Memories flooded in. We were still young: eternity was within reach of our hands and sunshine was in our hearts. We thought we had seen the back of all our past troubles. In those carefree days, we didn’t know that the Darkness would later plague our lives again. Well, we had known shadows before, so it wasn’t in our plans to experience the tragedy that would unfold. I kept talking. I was certain then that my words would find you, my Twin Flame. The woman in love took over what little Venusian poise was left in me. I wanted to make love with you, become one with the land, with the air around me. Yet I felt so vulnerable and human.“I’m back from a parallel future without you. Crumbs from that future are still stuck in my hair so I am not sure if my return is complete, or if you can hear what I’m saying now. Yet you did understand me during our glorious time together. I would speak to the clouds and you could hear me. Now I don’t even know if you remember my face anymore. The face you would gaze at in silence, for minutes, your eyes and my eyes locked into bliss time couldn’t enter... I see you’ve managed to cloud your mind without the torch I carried for you, without the Light I shared with you. Oh darling, you’re so hopeless…”
I remembered that I had also been very angry with you because you had hurt me to the bone. And that I had forgiven you anyway. Harmonious sounds were emerging from the landscape and from my soul. Church bells were ringing in the distance. I ran my fingers through the water of the spring, caressing it as if it were your hair. I welcomed back that divided sensation I always felt when I loved you like a woman: torn between the wholeness you brought to me and the threat of knowing you might also take it away from me, as you had done before. “Our dance was erratic at best, traumatic as a rule. My instinct tells me you still need my help, like many times before. I am starting to believe that you are beyond repair. It’s always been like that with you. But I won’t give up. I had to come from the future to be at your side, to get you out any hole you might have dug yourself into. Will you ever learn from your mistakes? Why do you always let your mind travel back to the past? You carry that past with you and by that very past you let yourself be defined. Let’s blame it on your human ancestry, on your romantic streak...”If you heard me, you were probably starting to be pissed off at me for being on what you would call my 'high horse'. I looked at the sky and all around me. Fluffy clouds parted over the vast, quiet backdrop. A ray of sunshine fell on the encircling pastures. Cows were grazing absent-mindedly. Everything reminded me of you. And the Earth, my powerful ally, was paying close attention to my actions again.“I’m here to resurrect our relationship. I have to. This way we may meet again and patch up those seams in our souls we tore apart. There is another way, Oscar, and we can find it. Bear with me (despite your attention deficit, I thought). I’m not mad with you, I swear. So please don’t be angry with me. I don’t care about the Plan or the Prophecy. I just want you back. You know, a Star Woman’s words are full of Power, and they can cut like a knife. So I am choosing mine carefully.” Up in the sky, an airplane commenced its descent over Dublin Bay and into the city’s airport. You were on it, headphones on, gazing out of the window. The second you felt my caress, your eyes turned the color of the night. You right hand moved to your chest - your heart was racing.Back at Tara, I continued my seeming conversation with the water.“My heart keeps the record of the past nineteen eventful years. What they feel like from my point of view. From the comfort of my future stance, I looked back on facts and people, and us. What happened between us never fails to surprise me. The whole idea that the Darkness sold you... that the love we made was too much for you to hold on to... My heart still leaps at the memory of us together, the emotional content of our merge, the powerful union of man and woman: two bodies becoming one soul. I was born to find you, not to let you go.”I was crying. I wasn’t sad. I was just opening up, unlocking the fortress. After all those years, that lump in my throat stirred itself awake. The emotions it held captive crept out and wanted to be heard. We had loved so well. How could we let our love die? And could we ever breathe life into it again? I felt hollow, empty, and then lighter. That was the definite sign I had landed back into your life. I knew that you could at least sense my influence there and then, in your world. “In those years before I met you I was driven by a relentless force, by an incredible amount of love. My life was pulled in your direction, although I didn’t know it at the time. You were my purpose. Your heart is a magnet to me. Where has it gone now? What tune is it dancing to? Is it still dancing, I wonder… Can you not see what has become of you?”A flock of ravens cackled above the plain. A warm breeze rose and caressed my suntanned face in its trail. Back on the airplane, your iPod was playing a Doors’ song whose words held meaning to you: “Awake. Shake dreams from your hair my pretty child, my sweet one.” [
Waiting for Kassandra - 21 March 2012
When Kassandra landed back on the Hill of Tara in time for her appointment, her girlfriends were already in the souvenir shop adjacent to the cafeteria. The place would normally be packed with visitors in the summer months but it was pleasantly quiet at this time of the year. It was no surprise that Kassie had wanted to meet them there. The three women had a special connection with this ancient site.Letizia had baptized her firstborn here, according to the Goddess Tradition, on the Spring Equinox seven years earlier. The ceremony had been held on Tara’s holy ground, by the Stone of Destiny. Kassie had officiated the rites, with Polly as the godmother. Letizia had preferred to present her beautiful Daniel to the Mother before his traditional religious christening. Now the trio would be back together, to rekindle their bond as daughters of the Goddess.Polly and Letizia were excited about that afternoon’s rendezvous. It had been a while since they'd last seen their unconventional friend. Always full of surprises, a year or so earlier she had informed them that she needed to disappear from the social radar for a while. Just like that, out of the blue. Nobody knew where she had been or what she had been up to since. Kassandra was the most unpredictable person they knew. But they trusted her completely with her life choices. No matter how deeply she may end up in the Darkness, love would always sway her back to the Path of Love.Once again, she had left them in total oblivion of her deeds and given them cause for much speculation. Until a week previously, when she had contacted both friends telepathically, to let them know that she was soon to be back in Dublin and would love to see them on the Equinox. They should be warned, she had added, that the man she loved would be coming along too. "Oh no!!!!" were the words that had screamed in her friends' minds at the last piece of news.The appointment was at 2 pm. The women had arrived ten minutes early. No sign of Kassandra yet. But she was already at Tara and was now walking away from the sacred spring in the direction of the cafeteria. In the meantime, Letizia was flicking through books on Celtic art. Polly was eyeing the cupcakes and scones on display - any turmoil in her emotions would always command the complete attention of her stomach. She pulled Letizia away from the shelves and into the eating area. “Do you think we will still get on with her like in the good old days?”“Come on, Polly, be a bit more hopeful! It’s only been a year, and she’s just coming out of that strange period of isolation. She’s always been very hard to read, we know. But she’s the most heart-centered person in the world. And she’s perfectly aligned with her True Identity. We can only, as always, get on famously. I am more concerned with Oscar to be honest. He’s the one who seems to lose the plot on a regular basis...”“Well, let’s see if he turns up at all. It wouldn’t be the first time he’s let her down...”
Polly’s eyes darkened. She went to sit at the table by the window and started studying the trees and berry bushes outside. Nature’s spirits already knew what that afternoon had in store. She wished she could elicit that information in advance. But the only response that came from the world outside was the sound of raindrops falling on leaves.
Rehab, Dublin, April 2011
Why had Kassandra disappeared twelve or so months before hers and Oscar’s appointment at the Hill of Tara? Where was she? The setting where we find them one year earlier is completely different, despite being similarly set in a green and lush environment. We encounter our couple in the famous Hermitage, the five-star rehabilitation clinic in the south of Dublin where rich and troubled souls the world over come looking for some peace of mind and hardcore detox. Oscar has recognized her silhouette straight away as she is heading to sit under the porch in the rose garden. At first, he had tried to hold back for a few minutes before approaching her. His body was hungry for her, of course, and there was nothing he could do about it. But at least the sight of her face can now satisfy his eyes, if only for a stolen while. Kassandra is such a poignant vision of beauty. He wishes he’d brought along his drawing pad and pencils. He can’t really resist that long, can he? So he goes over and sits next to her.“Is that your journal, Kassie? Are you writing about me?”Kassandra looks up from the page and her eyes meet Oscar’s grinning face. She smiles and nods at him.“Well, yeah, I might very well have mentioned you in here,” she winks at him. “It’s a stream-of-consciousness exercise. I like to jot down the random thoughts that emerge in my head-space because sometimes they do take over and rule the entire thinking process. I follow them in writing, to see where they take me, where my imagination is leading me... there is truth in these words, even when they don’t make much sense. My memories can come across in an erratic manner sometimes...”They are flirting even under testing circumstances. They are supposed to feel guilty about their liaison, but they don’t. “Would you like me to have a look at these bizarre thoughts of yours then? I don’t think they can be any weirder than my own ideas...”.Kassandra feigns surprise. “I didn’t mean to say there is anything strange in what I wrote. This might sound a bit far-fetched perhaps, and I don’t really know the full purpose of this exercise as yet, but anyway, for what it’s worth...”Oscar puts his hand on Kassandra’s arm. When he touches her, their exchange of energy silences their words for a few seconds. She had been longing for that contact for the past two days. That’s why she had decided to bring her diary along when she went out on her afternoon walk. Oscar is a man of a curious disposition. She was certain that he would stop to inquire about the content of her scribbling. “Here, have a look”, she says. “This is the real me, not the woman that these doctors otherwise insist that I am...”Oscar takes her diary and reads the opening paragraph.I, Kassandra Morgante, High Master of the Blue Flame, am writing this for you, Oscar O’Leary, with the intention that you will ask me to read it.“Wow”, he says, and then lifts his eyes from the page to look at Kassandra. She is now laughing.“It seems that you always get what you want from me, Miss Morgante...”Kassandra notices that Oscar’s aura is turning to gold too quickly. He isn’t yet ready to absorb the information contained in her words. His passionate, very human nature is still prevailing, which endears him to her even more.“You can read another couple of sentences, but that’s all...”“Ok, boss! I’ll read aloud then, until it’s allowed.”You have found me because I am your kin and True Friend. I am the only woman who can talk to your Star Heart. I will be your direction when you are ready to tap into the deepest part of your heart that calls for healing.Oscar’s weak heart is racing already. He shouldn’t go any further. So Kassandra places her hands on the following lines of text.“Stop now, that’s it. You get the gist”.
The journal ends up on the bench. Their tongues start to explore the depths of their mutual longing. Rapture of the senses. Another day in purgatory, which is a good day for them nonetheless.
Kassandra’s Journal (full entry)
9 April 2011I, Kassandra Morgante, High Master of the Blue Flame, am writing this for you, Oscar O’Leary, with the intention that you will ask me to read it.You have found me because I am your kin and True Friend. I am the only woman who can talk to your Star Heart. I will be your direction when you are ready to tap into the deepest part of your heart that calls for healing.One day you will understand why I live the way I do, and you will see the world from my perspective. I am of Venusian stock and I bring good tidings. And you are a true shaman and a gentleman, one whom a Star Woman like myself can’t resist. Your intuition is well developed, and at some level, you remember the true nature of our relationship.I was born to fulfill a Prophecy and help the evolution of our broken-hearted humankind into a race of immortal beings. You’re not given to know this now, because you can only bear with me to the extent to which your attention can handle my words. But one day soon, you will understand why I can talk to the deepest longings in a woman’s dreams and I can whisper seductive words into the ears of the toughest man, and make his fortress crumble. When my Power will be fully fledged, I will become invincible. We will be invulnerable.But right now, it isn’t so. And it wasn’t so when I used to be a spoiled brat who was often in denial of the gifts that I was born with. My True Nature only came to the fore when my path crossed yours, Oscar. When we met, I fell in love with the very complex, self-loathing yet generous man that you are. In our encounter, and in the love we made and shared, a new humanity became possible: our own. This is the account of how I learned to love you completely, despite the many obstacles on the way to the fulfillment of our love.My ancestry is part human and part stellar, much like yours, much like that of all of us on this planet. The difference between you and me is simply that I am programmed to remember my True Identity, and I am willing to share the path that took me there. It is not difficult to find the way back to your True Home and your True Destiny. But it does require some alternative thinking. And memories have to emerge from your own psyche to be original, to be aligned with the One Source. I hope that my presence can engage your attention and help you find your way back to that connection. Our relationship can provide you with a bit of a short cut, with a bridge across dimensions. Our union is a symbol of broader processes going on in the human species at present. Don’t listen to what they tell you. There is nothing wrong with the yearnings of your heart, and that feeling of alienation that overwhelms you sometimes. It’s your Star Seed calling you to the Light. But the ego has no use for an enlightened mind. So, as soon as life’s problems present themselves on the path, the human tendency is to lose sight of many aspects of our Souls. They then become Shadow Aspects that need to be expressed. Over time, we forget that they are illusions. Time has the habit of wiping the memory of our True Origin from our mind. But rest assured; your heart never let go of the Truth. I am here to re-awaken the Star Seed in your heart. My merge with you, my True Lover, can be read like a fairy-tale in consciousness. It operates on many levels if you decipher the signs accurately. But you must be willing to walk on the Way of the Truth, and unlearn all of the ego’s lies. I know, not all the steps may seem that clear to you, but they are true. And the Truth will always take you Home to Arkadia, the Land of Gods and Goddesses. Arkadia won’t be elsewhere in space and time once you become its living memory. Arkadia will be here, now. Look for parallels between my love for you and how you felt in relation to me. May my story mirror your awakening to your heart’s call. This is the reason why I am starting to disclose it.I remember, my Friend, that Life on Earth is an adventure in consciousness. Magic and wonder are possible. It takes a little bit of work and lots of enthusiasm. Are you ready to start the journey? It has many endings but just one beginning. Find it, and every step on the path will pan out. Trust me. Let’s go. Again.
[Continue reading Chapter Two: HYBRID YEARS]
Arkadia, Out of Time The wheels of spring were turning in the timeless land of Arkadia and in the mortal plane below it. Up in the sky, three months before its transit across the face of the Sun, Venus was already shining its serene light on its pioneering children who had left it eons before. They now lived in Arkadia, a parallel dimension closer to the Earth, their neighboring planet. The Goddess Games were in full swing at that time of the year. The Blue Flames in the cores of the Arkadians, the Ancient Venusian Settlers, brimmed with the ecstasy of attraction, made even more magnetic by the frequency of their Native Star. The Soul Mates and Twin Flames among them would soon be drawn to merge into Sacred Union. On Earth, too, human hearts could not be spared from stirring to the tides of love. That spring, Oscar O’Leary was in Paris, France, still dodging the lures of death and surviving what he called a meaningless existence. Hope, however faint, was still alive for the rekindling of the love between this complex man and the most evolved Venusian woman. At least for a little while longer.The woman Oscar had loved was none other than the Arkadian Princess. At this point in the story, she was alone in her bedchamber, opening the window to welcome the warmth of the morning sun. Her sleepy green eyes were fixed on the cloudless sky as she was running her fingers through her hair, caressing it is if belonged to someone else. Blessed with the most comely human shape and the purest stellar essence, her movements were enthralling and elegant, like the contents of her mind. Her Venusian name was Meta. Being of royal stock, she possessed all the classic Venusian traits. Her love-inspiring presence, imperscrutable and hypnotic stare and perfectly symmetric shape made her the champion of the Arkadian ideal. And she was a most stunning woman by human standards too. The Princess was one of the Ancient Founders of the Diamond Island of Arkadia, the Venusian Outpost that had long become their Earthly dwelling. Her human name, Kassandra, had now left her memory. Her mission had failed and the High Council was preparing her to return to Venus. The mating season had started. The bird-song’s sweetness, so light-hearted and wild, sounded irresistible. Meta could recognize a familiar longing for physical merging ripening in her body. She felt lonely - a very human emotion. Faint memories of nights of passion in the arms of her lover still emerged in her soul, untamed by the recent reprogramming that her mind had to undergo at the hands of the High Masters. The sun shone waves of gold on her long brown hair as she stretched out her arms, palms facing up, to invite two robins singing on the apple tree to come closer. She needed their company to take her mind off the gaping hole that was widening in her heart. “Do you know how lucky you are, my friends? You have found each other. You still need each other...”The birds, a male and a female, had flown towards her and were now cooing and chirping away on her windowsill. They loved to be around the Princess. All kinds of living beings could easily tune into her Core Signature, to partake in the bliss of her nature. She, the clearest channel of the One Source there in Arkadia, was now watching her feathered visitors with great affection and curiosity, and a hint of jealousy. Their mating rituals were driven by the Life Force, and their mutual desire reminded her of a happy time when she, too, had become vulnerable to romantic love. Now her connection with the Source had to be constant. Longing was no longer necessary or advisable at the level of the Goddess Games that she had reached, as the High Masters kept telling her.Meta’s apartments were in the Ivory Palace, the isolation quarters where Perfected Channels like her were lodged. Here, they could shine their Light in direct connection with the Universe, undisturbed by the opposing polarity of the Earth below, before ascending back to Venus. At last, the Princess’s life had a purpose again, if not the one she was born to fulfill. In Arkadia, it was considered a great gift to feel the Power of Eternity to the extent that she could. So why wasn’t she experiencing complete peace? She didn’t seem to have any agency or any personal answers anymore. Most of her thoughts were now coming straight from the Source, as if she were a mere spectator of her beautiful mind-scape. She had no Twin Flame either, she had been informed. Nor would she have one in the future, once she returned to the Native Star. Kyrius, her father and the Arkadian King, had decided to keep his only daughter in the sanctum of the Palace, where she could ponder over the Truth. This was necessary before she could be granted a farewell visit to the physical dimension in her human incarnation. In the meantime, uninterrupted connection with the Source was the only way to stop her from thinking about Oscar O’Leary, her human lover. It had to be done. Her memories of that relationship were bringing low resonance to the Holy Precincts of Elysia, Arkadia’s capital city. To her father’s relief, Meta’s thoughts were now vibrating at such a high rate again that she should have no notion left of the man she had loved, and how he had broken her heart. No dense frequency was allowed to enter Arkadia at that delicate junction in Planetary Evolution. The Council of the High Masters had had no other option but to delete any recollection of the temperamental Irish artist from the Princess’s mental files. Without announcement, the disembodied voice of Prince Lumiel filled Meta’s chamber, shifting her attention away from the lovebirds and the longings of her heart.“I sense it’s time for another visit to Earth, sister. Are you ready?”Lumiel’s thoughts had the characteristic musical tinkle of Arkadian speech. Although her brother was elsewhere in Elysia, the cells in Meta’s body recognized the familiar pitch and harmonized with the content of the message at once. His tone was grave, given the momentous occasion that awaited the stellar Princess. Yet mysterious waves of mischief were enmeshed in his words, and she was glad to feel them.“I get the message, Lu, the full message...”Her lips gave way to a smile and the Blue Flame started to radiate from her heart like a beacon. The joy that sprinkled from her Core was effortless and almost liquid. Her feathered visitors stopped their song to inhale the atoms in the air around her. She turned away from the window and caught her reflection in the mirror. The moment she did, she gave out a sigh, as she would every time she saw her face’s reflection. Unbeknown to her, her own features would always remind her subconsciously of the face of her lover, her Soul Gestalt, her Alchemical Husband, her Twin Flame.“I heard you, Meta! And I also feel a strange vacuum in that precious heart of yours”, Lumiel said from his mansion by the Crystal Lake.He knew that his sister was still in love with a man whose Blue Flame had only been partially kindled, and then left unattended by her forced return to Arkadia. She wasn’t conscious of it, but the cells of her body carried the imprint of the love that Oscar had given her, and taken away. The Ancient Venusian Prophecy could still come true if Meta continued to carry the torch for the future of the host planet. But she had forgotten. She had been made to forget because something had gone wrong with the Arkadian Plan. Right at that moment, the Council was in session. The High Masters would soon reach a decision that could help her make amends with her past: whether she should be allowed to see Oscar one final time before taking her journey back to Venus.Meta wasn’t supposed to know any of this. But Lumiel couldn’t keep his telepathic mouth shut. The least that he could do for his sister was to instill some information in advance. He wanted her to heal her past. He loved the Earth as much as she did. Although he wasn’t sure anymore that the other Arkadians were as enamored with the third dimension, the Earth’s physical realm, as he and Meta were. Not many Arkadians really understood humanity as well as the Royal Siblings did. And no, he had no intention of going back to Venus. Meta had never stopped longing to see her former lover again. It didn’t matter that the Council had removed most of her memories from her mental files. Her True Identity was firmly fixed in the Blue Flame in her heart and it still held on to those human feelings she had experienced in Oscar’s arms. The Flame, a speckle of the Primordial Thought in the Mind of the Universe, creates all life-forms around it. It is holy and nobody can alter it. Not even the Council can interfere with it. A vague remembrance of her lover had nested in her body cells, ready to be reactivated at the right time, once it had become refined and could resonate with the Arkadian Plan once more. It couldn’t be otherwise: love is the only rule there is in the Goddess Games. “I really hope they’ll let me go back to Ireland... that’s where I must go, one more time... and may Arkadia stay safe and bright in my absence. I don’t even know what reason is calling me to leave this place, but I can’t look at myself in the mirror without feeling that something is missing in me. I am incomplete, partial... longing has entered my soul... so much for being a Perfected Channel... I feel complete only when I don’t think about myself...”Lumiel was delighted that his sister was directing her energy back to a low frequency. That would help her descent into matter, which would also open the path for his own return to the material plane. Lady Myriam, his Twin Flame, wouldn’t be disappointed with his secret designs this time. He cast his glance across the imperturbable blue pond and allowed his thoughts to become still.“You will remember, dear Meta, and it will all be okay again”.In days of old, her thoughts had been fueled by the passion that she felt for her Twin Flame, and he for her. Then their interwoven destinies had been torn apart. The Ancient Venusian Prophecy had announced the cross-fertilization of Venusians and Humans through the act of love. Meta was born to be the first Venusian with the right amount of human features to kick-start this evolutionary momentum. She had found her human mirror in Oscar O’Leary, and all had seemed to go according to the Arkadian Plan. But their love story had turned sour in the end. The hurts inflicted on her emotions had left scars that the Light Frequency of the Arkadian Island couldn’t tolerate. Arkadia was in the fifth dimension where matter existed in its potential state, as a perfect idea in the Mind of the Source. The island’s very existence relied upon the harmonized drone produced by the sounds of its inhabitants’ Cores. The frequencies emitted by their Royalty were of particular importance. The place was founded on the almost constant connection that its population could maintain with the Source of Creation, and the tones produced by their thought-waves in unison with the resonance of the Sacred Stones in the Temple Mountain. Arkadia was now taking on more Earthly undertones and becoming heavier, partly because of Meta’s heartache, despite its being shadowed by forgetfulness.Meanwhile, Time itself was changing its essence back on Earth, and acquiring more Venusian, more refined connotations. Its marks on the plane of matter were becoming less pronounced. In the spring of 2012, it looked as though the Earth was following the Way of the Universe, and Arkadia had to give up some of its Light to facilitate the process. Although humans would still forget easily that love is the direction and fear is the illusion, and despite the fact that their physical vessels were still made of gross matter that tended to pull everything into a third-dimensional frequency, the Way of the Universe is unbeatable.“Meta, remember that you must keep your heart on love, and only love, in your travels, as that’s the only direction there is...”Lumiel’s words were soothing and meaningful. The Princess could sense the Blue Flame shimmering in her chest in anticipation. She had been put in isolation. They had told her it was the most prized recognition. She was the Highest of the High now. But she didn’t believe them anymore. She was merely wearing a brave face. Soon, as her rebellious brother kept reassuring her, doubt would lower her frequency and help her condense into matter, irreversibly. This way, whether the Council agreed or not, she would find herself in the third dimension, where she could stay as long as she liked.For a little while longer, Arkadian procedure had to be followed and rules had to be respected. The Arkadian Masters still wanted to help, it was obvious. But she had chosen to do things her own way, and her decision was final. A knock came on the door and her train of thoughts was suddenly cut short.“Meta... I’ve come to accompany you to the Hall”.“Mother”, the Princess said as she curtsied to the Queen.Their two auras merged into vibrant sapphire as their shapes dissolved and disappeared. Then Meta looked around and noticed that the backdrop had changed. Under the opulent vaults of the Diamond Lodge, her slight silhouette now stood alone in front of the Council. The High Masters had reached their decision and she didn’t even need to hear their words. Their thoughts were a deep, low sound, throbbing harmoniously. She could sense it permeate all the sinews and bones in her body as it was becoming heavier and more solid. Her hands were shaking. Descent into matter was approaching. Any attempt to resist would be futile now.Then she remembered - something had gone wrong with the Venusian Prophecy. Humankind hadn’t evolved into their foretold stellar potential. Had she failed her people? How had she ended up in Arkadia again? She had to go back to Earth, to find someone who had become lost, who had made the wrong choice and taken the wrong turn, following the lures of the Dark Forces. The Council wanted her to fix his mistake. Did they blame her for it? That couldn’t be the case, Arkadians were not capable of low feelings. He, whoever he was... it was he who was blaming himself, and she was feeling his pain.“The Venusian Plan can’t fail,” the King was saying. “You must find him.” Meta’s head was spinning now, as if some of her thoughts were being vacuumed out of her brain. Perhaps they were.“Find who? And why me?”She couldn’t recollect any particular face or name yet. Her heart was pounding and pulling her towards her destiny again, to her life as a woman, a star woman, a woman in love. There was no time left for explanations: the right space-time junction was drawing near.“You will remember once you reach the Earth, time-coordinates 21-03-2012. We cannot intervene. Only your True Identity can guide you. Only the Source can mentor the one you’re looking for, so you must always act in line with the Source. You must realign him with the Plan if you can, if you want to stop humanity’s fate from plunging into even lower depths.”Meta’s eyes were like saucers and her lips were lost for words. She felt numb and drained of all energy. But the Star Seed in her heart was like a sparkling wheel. Then silence fell on the Hall like a heavy curtain, torn apart by the sudden metallic noise of the door to the Teleportation Room now opening behind her. The Princess dragged her feet towards it, looking every inch the sacrificial victim. On the threshold, she stopped to cast one last, disconsolate glance at those familiar faces.
“Goodbye, Arkadia. This time I’m done with you”, she said. And she stepped into her past.
Hill of Tara, Ireland, Spring Equinox 2012
The hard surface of a rock welcomed my landing and I was jolted back from the World of Light into the material world. I looked around. The sacred spring was just a couple of steps away. I was in the right place, no doubt: the holy ground they call “Tara of the Kings”. Which to me would always be Tara of the Heart: the site of the ancient choice, and the hill that keeps the mark of our promise.
The Tara Interdimensional Portal I had come through had been used for ages by Venusians and humans alike. The ancient people of Ireland were familiar with its true function, and it was no coincidence they had placed their tribes’ seat of power at this magical junction. And no surprise that you and I would always be drawn to this place. I shook the dust off my clothes and rejoiced at the found-again solidity of my limbs, jumping up and down on the spot to appreciate the power of gravity. I was grounded and unscathed. Descent from Light into matter could still be risky, even for a consumed time-traveler like myself. I wasn’t concerned for the safety of my physical vessel. The danger was that traveling back in time could have played havoc with my mind. So I closed my eyes and scanned my memory. It was all in one piece, it seemed, and responding to old triggers. Your face came back to my mind’s eye at once. And my heart expanded, or so it seemed.“Oscar, my love.”I was on a mission to find you. The thought of you made me smile. My human name also returned to my consciousness.“Kassandra. I am Kassandra. I’m back.”A buzzing sound came from the pocket of my coat. It came from my iPhone. The calendar app had just sent me a reminder:Meet Oscar at Tara, 21 March 2012, 14:30 PM.All those years ago, I had summoned you here on the first day of spring, to resurrect our love if needed, if the wrong turn on our paths had ever made us part. Our love must have died then, I realized. Never mind. Here I was again, to bring it back to life with all of my heart’s might, to let the Blue Flame guide us back to the Truth of our bond.“I’m looking for you. Hello? Oscar? Can you hear me?”My voice sounded sweet as it pleaded you to appear. I listened for your telepathic answer but no sound was forthcoming. Just whirling feelings rising inside my chest like a tornado, and the cavalcade of my blood throbbing in my veins. What was going on? It felt as though the lies that I had been fed by the Dark Forces were being whipped out of the alcoves of my recollection, to be scattered to the Irish wind. I was being freed from that mistake, and we were being given our second chance. The Earth was our powerful ally. It was quite different from when I had left it years before. It still looked the same, though fear had since spread everywhere, taking on a number of disguises. I understood the planet needed our love to be, as much as we needed each other. Trepidant joy returned to my perspective. No need to waste any more time. I tuned into the environment to detect your frequency; we had to meet soon. I forced myself to ignore the nagging voice of the ghost of my ego, and its pointless message. I had to trust that you would be coming to our appointment. I had to put my love for you over everything else. “Doubt has no reason to be here.”The song of the stream intertwined with the sound of my whispering voice. In union with the environment, I was alone but I was connected with you again. Suddenly my cells started to reverberate to the unique signature we had created with our Alchemical Marriage. I became sure I was talking to you.“Oscar! My love! You still understand the Secret Language!”My eyes lingered on the place where we had sealed our pact fifteen years earlier, as if they expected to see you there. In my mind, I held the picture of your hazel eyes, the curve of the cupid bow of your upper lip, your tapered fingers moving towards my face. My blood felt the thrill of recognition, as if you were there, holding me in your arms, as if it were still happening. Memories flooded in. We were still young: eternity was within reach of our hands and sunshine was in our hearts. We thought we had seen the back of all our past troubles. In those carefree days, we didn’t know that the Darkness would later plague our lives again. Well, we had known shadows before, so it wasn’t in our plans to experience the tragedy that would unfold. I kept talking. I was certain then that my words would find you, my Twin Flame. The woman in love took over what little Venusian poise was left in me. I wanted to make love with you, become one with the land, with the air around me. Yet I felt so vulnerable and human.“I’m back from a parallel future without you. Crumbs from that future are still stuck in my hair so I am not sure if my return is complete, or if you can hear what I’m saying now. Yet you did understand me during our glorious time together. I would speak to the clouds and you could hear me. Now I don’t even know if you remember my face anymore. The face you would gaze at in silence, for minutes, your eyes and my eyes locked into bliss time couldn’t enter... I see you’ve managed to cloud your mind without the torch I carried for you, without the Light I shared with you. Oh darling, you’re so hopeless…”
I remembered that I had also been very angry with you because you had hurt me to the bone. And that I had forgiven you anyway. Harmonious sounds were emerging from the landscape and from my soul. Church bells were ringing in the distance. I ran my fingers through the water of the spring, caressing it as if it were your hair. I welcomed back that divided sensation I always felt when I loved you like a woman: torn between the wholeness you brought to me and the threat of knowing you might also take it away from me, as you had done before. “Our dance was erratic at best, traumatic as a rule. My instinct tells me you still need my help, like many times before. I am starting to believe that you are beyond repair. It’s always been like that with you. But I won’t give up. I had to come from the future to be at your side, to get you out any hole you might have dug yourself into. Will you ever learn from your mistakes? Why do you always let your mind travel back to the past? You carry that past with you and by that very past you let yourself be defined. Let’s blame it on your human ancestry, on your romantic streak...”If you heard me, you were probably starting to be pissed off at me for being on what you would call my 'high horse'. I looked at the sky and all around me. Fluffy clouds parted over the vast, quiet backdrop. A ray of sunshine fell on the encircling pastures. Cows were grazing absent-mindedly. Everything reminded me of you. And the Earth, my powerful ally, was paying close attention to my actions again.“I’m here to resurrect our relationship. I have to. This way we may meet again and patch up those seams in our souls we tore apart. There is another way, Oscar, and we can find it. Bear with me (despite your attention deficit, I thought). I’m not mad with you, I swear. So please don’t be angry with me. I don’t care about the Plan or the Prophecy. I just want you back. You know, a Star Woman’s words are full of Power, and they can cut like a knife. So I am choosing mine carefully.” Up in the sky, an airplane commenced its descent over Dublin Bay and into the city’s airport. You were on it, headphones on, gazing out of the window. The second you felt my caress, your eyes turned the color of the night. You right hand moved to your chest - your heart was racing.Back at Tara, I continued my seeming conversation with the water.“My heart keeps the record of the past nineteen eventful years. What they feel like from my point of view. From the comfort of my future stance, I looked back on facts and people, and us. What happened between us never fails to surprise me. The whole idea that the Darkness sold you... that the love we made was too much for you to hold on to... My heart still leaps at the memory of us together, the emotional content of our merge, the powerful union of man and woman: two bodies becoming one soul. I was born to find you, not to let you go.”I was crying. I wasn’t sad. I was just opening up, unlocking the fortress. After all those years, that lump in my throat stirred itself awake. The emotions it held captive crept out and wanted to be heard. We had loved so well. How could we let our love die? And could we ever breathe life into it again? I felt hollow, empty, and then lighter. That was the definite sign I had landed back into your life. I knew that you could at least sense my influence there and then, in your world. “In those years before I met you I was driven by a relentless force, by an incredible amount of love. My life was pulled in your direction, although I didn’t know it at the time. You were my purpose. Your heart is a magnet to me. Where has it gone now? What tune is it dancing to? Is it still dancing, I wonder… Can you not see what has become of you?”A flock of ravens cackled above the plain. A warm breeze rose and caressed my suntanned face in its trail. Back on the airplane, your iPod was playing a Doors’ song whose words held meaning to you: “Awake. Shake dreams from your hair my pretty child, my sweet one.” [
Waiting for Kassandra - 21 March 2012
When Kassandra landed back on the Hill of Tara in time for her appointment, her girlfriends were already in the souvenir shop adjacent to the cafeteria. The place would normally be packed with visitors in the summer months but it was pleasantly quiet at this time of the year. It was no surprise that Kassie had wanted to meet them there. The three women had a special connection with this ancient site.Letizia had baptized her firstborn here, according to the Goddess Tradition, on the Spring Equinox seven years earlier. The ceremony had been held on Tara’s holy ground, by the Stone of Destiny. Kassie had officiated the rites, with Polly as the godmother. Letizia had preferred to present her beautiful Daniel to the Mother before his traditional religious christening. Now the trio would be back together, to rekindle their bond as daughters of the Goddess.Polly and Letizia were excited about that afternoon’s rendezvous. It had been a while since they'd last seen their unconventional friend. Always full of surprises, a year or so earlier she had informed them that she needed to disappear from the social radar for a while. Just like that, out of the blue. Nobody knew where she had been or what she had been up to since. Kassandra was the most unpredictable person they knew. But they trusted her completely with her life choices. No matter how deeply she may end up in the Darkness, love would always sway her back to the Path of Love.Once again, she had left them in total oblivion of her deeds and given them cause for much speculation. Until a week previously, when she had contacted both friends telepathically, to let them know that she was soon to be back in Dublin and would love to see them on the Equinox. They should be warned, she had added, that the man she loved would be coming along too. "Oh no!!!!" were the words that had screamed in her friends' minds at the last piece of news.The appointment was at 2 pm. The women had arrived ten minutes early. No sign of Kassandra yet. But she was already at Tara and was now walking away from the sacred spring in the direction of the cafeteria. In the meantime, Letizia was flicking through books on Celtic art. Polly was eyeing the cupcakes and scones on display - any turmoil in her emotions would always command the complete attention of her stomach. She pulled Letizia away from the shelves and into the eating area. “Do you think we will still get on with her like in the good old days?”“Come on, Polly, be a bit more hopeful! It’s only been a year, and she’s just coming out of that strange period of isolation. She’s always been very hard to read, we know. But she’s the most heart-centered person in the world. And she’s perfectly aligned with her True Identity. We can only, as always, get on famously. I am more concerned with Oscar to be honest. He’s the one who seems to lose the plot on a regular basis...”“Well, let’s see if he turns up at all. It wouldn’t be the first time he’s let her down...”
Polly’s eyes darkened. She went to sit at the table by the window and started studying the trees and berry bushes outside. Nature’s spirits already knew what that afternoon had in store. She wished she could elicit that information in advance. But the only response that came from the world outside was the sound of raindrops falling on leaves.
Rehab, Dublin, April 2011
Why had Kassandra disappeared twelve or so months before hers and Oscar’s appointment at the Hill of Tara? Where was she? The setting where we find them one year earlier is completely different, despite being similarly set in a green and lush environment. We encounter our couple in the famous Hermitage, the five-star rehabilitation clinic in the south of Dublin where rich and troubled souls the world over come looking for some peace of mind and hardcore detox. Oscar has recognized her silhouette straight away as she is heading to sit under the porch in the rose garden. At first, he had tried to hold back for a few minutes before approaching her. His body was hungry for her, of course, and there was nothing he could do about it. But at least the sight of her face can now satisfy his eyes, if only for a stolen while. Kassandra is such a poignant vision of beauty. He wishes he’d brought along his drawing pad and pencils. He can’t really resist that long, can he? So he goes over and sits next to her.“Is that your journal, Kassie? Are you writing about me?”Kassandra looks up from the page and her eyes meet Oscar’s grinning face. She smiles and nods at him.“Well, yeah, I might very well have mentioned you in here,” she winks at him. “It’s a stream-of-consciousness exercise. I like to jot down the random thoughts that emerge in my head-space because sometimes they do take over and rule the entire thinking process. I follow them in writing, to see where they take me, where my imagination is leading me... there is truth in these words, even when they don’t make much sense. My memories can come across in an erratic manner sometimes...”They are flirting even under testing circumstances. They are supposed to feel guilty about their liaison, but they don’t. “Would you like me to have a look at these bizarre thoughts of yours then? I don’t think they can be any weirder than my own ideas...”.Kassandra feigns surprise. “I didn’t mean to say there is anything strange in what I wrote. This might sound a bit far-fetched perhaps, and I don’t really know the full purpose of this exercise as yet, but anyway, for what it’s worth...”Oscar puts his hand on Kassandra’s arm. When he touches her, their exchange of energy silences their words for a few seconds. She had been longing for that contact for the past two days. That’s why she had decided to bring her diary along when she went out on her afternoon walk. Oscar is a man of a curious disposition. She was certain that he would stop to inquire about the content of her scribbling. “Here, have a look”, she says. “This is the real me, not the woman that these doctors otherwise insist that I am...”Oscar takes her diary and reads the opening paragraph.I, Kassandra Morgante, High Master of the Blue Flame, am writing this for you, Oscar O’Leary, with the intention that you will ask me to read it.“Wow”, he says, and then lifts his eyes from the page to look at Kassandra. She is now laughing.“It seems that you always get what you want from me, Miss Morgante...”Kassandra notices that Oscar’s aura is turning to gold too quickly. He isn’t yet ready to absorb the information contained in her words. His passionate, very human nature is still prevailing, which endears him to her even more.“You can read another couple of sentences, but that’s all...”“Ok, boss! I’ll read aloud then, until it’s allowed.”You have found me because I am your kin and True Friend. I am the only woman who can talk to your Star Heart. I will be your direction when you are ready to tap into the deepest part of your heart that calls for healing.Oscar’s weak heart is racing already. He shouldn’t go any further. So Kassandra places her hands on the following lines of text.“Stop now, that’s it. You get the gist”.
The journal ends up on the bench. Their tongues start to explore the depths of their mutual longing. Rapture of the senses. Another day in purgatory, which is a good day for them nonetheless.
Kassandra’s Journal (full entry)
9 April 2011I, Kassandra Morgante, High Master of the Blue Flame, am writing this for you, Oscar O’Leary, with the intention that you will ask me to read it.You have found me because I am your kin and True Friend. I am the only woman who can talk to your Star Heart. I will be your direction when you are ready to tap into the deepest part of your heart that calls for healing.One day you will understand why I live the way I do, and you will see the world from my perspective. I am of Venusian stock and I bring good tidings. And you are a true shaman and a gentleman, one whom a Star Woman like myself can’t resist. Your intuition is well developed, and at some level, you remember the true nature of our relationship.I was born to fulfill a Prophecy and help the evolution of our broken-hearted humankind into a race of immortal beings. You’re not given to know this now, because you can only bear with me to the extent to which your attention can handle my words. But one day soon, you will understand why I can talk to the deepest longings in a woman’s dreams and I can whisper seductive words into the ears of the toughest man, and make his fortress crumble. When my Power will be fully fledged, I will become invincible. We will be invulnerable.But right now, it isn’t so. And it wasn’t so when I used to be a spoiled brat who was often in denial of the gifts that I was born with. My True Nature only came to the fore when my path crossed yours, Oscar. When we met, I fell in love with the very complex, self-loathing yet generous man that you are. In our encounter, and in the love we made and shared, a new humanity became possible: our own. This is the account of how I learned to love you completely, despite the many obstacles on the way to the fulfillment of our love.My ancestry is part human and part stellar, much like yours, much like that of all of us on this planet. The difference between you and me is simply that I am programmed to remember my True Identity, and I am willing to share the path that took me there. It is not difficult to find the way back to your True Home and your True Destiny. But it does require some alternative thinking. And memories have to emerge from your own psyche to be original, to be aligned with the One Source. I hope that my presence can engage your attention and help you find your way back to that connection. Our relationship can provide you with a bit of a short cut, with a bridge across dimensions. Our union is a symbol of broader processes going on in the human species at present. Don’t listen to what they tell you. There is nothing wrong with the yearnings of your heart, and that feeling of alienation that overwhelms you sometimes. It’s your Star Seed calling you to the Light. But the ego has no use for an enlightened mind. So, as soon as life’s problems present themselves on the path, the human tendency is to lose sight of many aspects of our Souls. They then become Shadow Aspects that need to be expressed. Over time, we forget that they are illusions. Time has the habit of wiping the memory of our True Origin from our mind. But rest assured; your heart never let go of the Truth. I am here to re-awaken the Star Seed in your heart. My merge with you, my True Lover, can be read like a fairy-tale in consciousness. It operates on many levels if you decipher the signs accurately. But you must be willing to walk on the Way of the Truth, and unlearn all of the ego’s lies. I know, not all the steps may seem that clear to you, but they are true. And the Truth will always take you Home to Arkadia, the Land of Gods and Goddesses. Arkadia won’t be elsewhere in space and time once you become its living memory. Arkadia will be here, now. Look for parallels between my love for you and how you felt in relation to me. May my story mirror your awakening to your heart’s call. This is the reason why I am starting to disclose it.I remember, my Friend, that Life on Earth is an adventure in consciousness. Magic and wonder are possible. It takes a little bit of work and lots of enthusiasm. Are you ready to start the journey? It has many endings but just one beginning. Find it, and every step on the path will pan out. Trust me. Let’s go. Again.
[Continue reading Chapter Two: HYBRID YEARS]
January 29, 2014
Two - "HYBRID YEARS"
[back to Chapter One]
TwoHYBRID YEARS
The ‘Invisibles’
Immortality, super powers, evolution… Did I always remember my True Identity? Not really. The existing common ground between me and humans often tricked me into assuming that I was a female member of the homo sapiens sapiensspecies. As a child, I looked like any other girl, and I seemed to be developing according to the same phases of growth as the rest of them. But my flesh and blood were made of a more refined, more enduring substance. My physical shape was unchangeably bound to symmetry and harmony. And my DNA possessed knowledge of a kind that only a few enlightened people during humanity’s past history had managed to unravel. So how come I didn’t always remember that I was of Venusian Stock? The little catch was in the shape of a small problem that I shared with all human beings. The only way for me to retrieve memories of my true, stellar origin was to keep my heart focused only on the feeling called love. 24/7. Uninterruptedly. So that my human body could completely transform into its upgraded, human-stellar cross-fertilized version. That was the only way I could transmute into becoming a fully-fledged Star Woman one day. An immortal human being. On that fateful day, I knew that Oscar would be there to share in my unfaltering love. At least for a while. But then he would have to make a choice: to become like me by love-fuelled osmosis, as prophesied by the Arkadian Plan, or reject me and miss the most miraculous opportunity the planet could witness. But of course I didn’t know as much in my early years. My early life of a Star Girl on Earth was often very dramatic. Events around me would always mirror inner evolutionary processes taking place in my body and psyche, and in the collective subconscious of humanity at large. I had to learn to read them as such. It wasn’t easy - my human component was very strong and I was quite attached to it. There in the third dimension, in the mortal plane, there would always be two forces trying to influence my actions. The Dark Forces would try to stop my evolution. They loved the status quo on Earth. And the Arkadian Forces would try to speed me on my path to transformation. They were my helpers and kin. I was born an only child equipped with a vast imagination. If the world around me was dull sometimes, and complicated and tragic at others, my thoughts could always take me on wonderful adventures. Daydreaming became my favorite past time, with reading fantastic adventures as a close second. By the time I was four, I had a multitude of friends that no one else could see but me. Some of them were palm-sized shiny people who lived among the trees and plants of our family’s landscaped garden at Villa Rosa, in the Asti Valley of Northern Italy. Others were bigger and resembled angels in their appearance. They had colorful waves all around them, just like wings. I couldn’t quite decide if they were angel-children or grown-up fairies. Some were a cross between the two types. They looked a little bit like me too. At the start, these visitors didn’t speak to me. So there was no way I could ask them to tell me more about their identity. It was only on the day when my dad left me and my mum that my “imaginary” friends made their tinkling sound heard for the first time. Dimly at first, and then very distinctly. Over the following year, their shapes became visible. They were not material yet, but more like liquid holograms. In time, we also learned to communicate through feelings, and eventually I could emote with the content of their minds. I didn’t know what to make of those encounters at first. I was a child and my logical mind wasn’t in the forefront yet. So I limited myself to enjoy the company of my shiny friends, especially once mum also followed dad, leaving me behind. By the time I moved in with the Hughes, my adoptive family, the ‘invisibles’, as I called them, had become my regular playtime companions. I tried to introduce them to my brother Rufus and the neighbors’ daughter Letizia, but to no avail. My two friends couldn’t see them and agreed that my imagination must have run wild again. As they didn’t want to upset me, given that my real mum and dad were no longer with me, they still went along with what they thought was a game I had made up. But the ‘invisibles’ were real beings who were very useful to me in those formative years. They helped me keep my heart from sadness and onto the more productive joyful frequency that they called the Ancient Tune, the harmonious melody emitted by the planet. All living species on the Earth, they taught me, are born attuned to it, although humans in their current state of evolution find it difficult, past their childhood years, to detect this life-giving hum through their physical senses. I needed the help of the ‘invisibles’ to let this sound fill my cells and allow for the Venusian blueprint to come to the fore through my flesh and bones. The ‘invisibles’ were happy creatures, and their visits always filled me with a sense of peace and awe. They informed me that I was capable of traveling across dimensions with my mind and emotions, and that I could always connect with those people and events, even in the future, that were milestones in the unfolding of my destiny.
Their visits stopped short before I was about to be sent to one of the best private schools in the world. I was twelve at the time, and my hormones were starting to adjust to my transforming body. It was a time of change and I was in transit between the old and the new phase in my life. Although I didn’t know, the ‘invisibles’ left me with their legacy before their disappearance.
Edinburgh, summer 1980
My first visit to Scotland coincided with a family holiday in 1980. We left Glasgow and drove through the rugged landscape surrounding the bonnie banks of Loch Lomond, up to the ruins of Urquhart Castle, perched up on a promontory overlooking the mysterious Loch Ness. By the time we reached our five star hotel outside Inverness on the same evening, I had fallen in love with the wilderness of that land and its unkempt majesty. The views I had absorbed oozed mystery and magic. Although the lochs and valleys spoke of ancient times of war, weeping and doom, the rolling mist above them whispered old words of love. I was surprised by the effect that the Scottish landscape had on my emotions. I had expected to be bored. I was a precocious teenager back then, allured by the British new wave and the Goth movement. My family and I had lived in Italy throughout my primary school studies. But that summer before secondary school, my adoptive parents had decided to move back to their native Sussex. Rufus and I had welcomed the news with elation. London would be a stone’s throw away, we thought, and with it, concerts, fashionable stores and a wealth of exciting, new cultural trends. But I soon discovered that Lord and Lady Hughes had different plans for me. In keeping with the family tradition, I would be boarding in the same school in Edinburgh where Henrietta had studied, and where my sister Ruby would soon be completing her final year. If that summer holiday was my parents’ attempt to make me fall in love with the Land of Alba, they had succeeded. My heart felt at home in Scotland. I was meant to go there for many reasons, some of which I could only intuit. The light had a timeless, otherworldly quality in the Highlands. I understood that I was on the cusp of something I couldn’t quite pin down, but which held my soul in its hands nonetheless. Strong, sudden sensations of longing came to inhabit my chest there. At first, I interpreted them as my soul telling me that I was going to become and artist. Or perhaps I was going to fall in love soon. Or both. I had wanted to fall in love since my 12th birthday. With a boy who was my perfect match as chosen by the Power of Creation itself. But how could that happen when I was soon going to be a boarder at the most prestigious all girls’ school in the country? And when I had barely entered adulthood after all? Ah, human love...My biological parents, Laura and Lorenzo, had been in love with each other. Yet their passion had burned their minds out too fast. I was the physical fruit of that initial flame. Now I was entering adolescence and I had learned not to miss them, nor resent them. I had to let them go, that was all. That longing I was starting to feel had nothing to do with the tragedies of my past. They were not mine, they didn’t belong to me. That yearning I was feeling was a call for my own freedom. I was growing up and it was time to find the way to let my life develop along it course. Lord and Lady Hughes had chosen wisely for me, although the reasons for which Scotland felt like home still eluded me and were far from what my adoptive parents had in mind.I moved into St Arnold’s Girls’ School in August that year, with eleven other first graders. My older sister was there to greet me and help me through the first days of my life away from our parents. When she met me in the hall, she looked grown up and elegant, even in the burgundy jacket and gray skirt that we had to wear at all times when we were on school grounds. She was delighted to see me and squeezed me into a bear hug.“You’re not going to like wearing this, Kassie. None of us does. But if I can look this good in it”, she gave me a twirl, “so can you”. She was a very attractive young woman. Her shape was different from mine: her body was voluptuous and markedly feminine, in contrast with my waif-like limbs. Her beauty was earthy and sensual, while mine was overwhelming and otherworldly in its symmetry. We would always be the gestalt of womanhood. The best thing about the year ahead was going to be the opportunity to spend time with my sister. She was a legend to me, like older siblings tend to be to their younger ones. While my bond with Rufus was one of affection and fun, that with Ruby was more to do with the acknowledgment of a spiritual affinity, albeit from a distance up to that point. Ruby and I had always liked each other despite the six-year gap between us. We understood that we were special people, endowed with special powers. We had never talked about it as yet. It was just a gut feeling, a telepathic symbiosis. And just like me, she always managed to get what she wanted if she put her unfaltering mind to it. We had never spent much time together before as she would only visit our family during her school holidays. Now I would have her company for nine months. She was going to be my first mentor, I knew. Ruby loved to travel and had been on the Orient Express the previous summer. Our parents didn’t mind sponsoring her cultural curiosity. I was dying to find out about her latest adventures. Before departing, she had announced to the family that she was about to embark on a quest to find her true purpose in life, in order to select the most appropriate academic pathway in the following year. She leaned towards studying psychology and languages but had not made up her mind yet. The true reason for her journey, however, which she had revealed only to me, was that she was actually looking for something deeper than the university she would eventually attend. Despite her breath-taking beauty, she had no interest in having a boyfriend yet. Boys were eating out of the palm of her hand, of course, and she was learning to manipulate their attention. But her main concern was with esoteric studies, spurred by our parent’s interests. Studying the Secret Tradition had been a burning passion for Ruby during the past year. Only people with a very spiritual make-up are interested in exploring the immaterial aspects of life at a time when their peers concern themselves with the will of their hormones and romantic emotions. Only those of us who are called to discover the invisible realms can resonate more readily with the impulses of timelessness and synchronicity. Ruby knew that her journey would reveal the next chapter of her life, and the city where she would choose to live as a university student in the year ahead. She needed to be in the place first, to experience it and let it speak to her. She had told me as much in a postcard from Budapest, where she had interrupted her journey and ended up staying for a month. From the moment the train had pulled in at the station, she was sure that the Hungarian capital was the right place for her. It didn’t matter that she didn’t speak the local language and that she knew nobody there. That was the place where she was going to live and study. The signs were everywhere. For instance, she had found a room to rent in a building on Rózsa utca, the Street of the Rose, which she interpreted as a clear Rosicrucian reference. The Secret Tradition that she belonged to on the inside was approaching her on the outside at last. Or so she believed.“I am an alchemist, Kassie, just like mum and dad, and I follow the map of my heart. It feels like I’ve been looking for people like me for as far as I can remember. I know you were one of us from the moment I met you. But there are many more, and we must find them and rally them together. What our mother and father do with the Godhead Society is a bit old-fashioned. We, the younger generation, must create a Magic Movement”.“Who are we supposed to find? Have you found any of these potential adepts in Hungary?” “My path seems to be stretching in that direction. And yours must have taken you here to Scotland for a reason too. I haven’t met these people so far. But I am sure that important lessons are awaiting me in Budapest. The city will be my learning ground. And, since we are synchronized, Kassie, I bet Edinburgh has more in store for you than the teachings of these nuns at St. Arnold’s!”
The sound of the school bell erupted through the remnants of a summer sky. Ruby winked at me, pulled my arm to signal it was time to go back to the hall and put her index finger on her lips. I nodded and slung my schoolbag across my shoulders. The roll was about to be called and we had to rush back to the entrance. It wouldn’t be a good move to be late on my first day.
Gordon, January 1991
“There, Gwen, I can see him., standing by the cigarette machine. He’s talking to Rufus. And now what? I’ll go over and my bro will say hey, this is my sis, nice to meet you, she’s lived in Scotland for a number of years, is now doing her finals at uni, studies medieval history, fond of horse riding and hocus pocus, and this is her roommate, at art college, from Wales, they were at St. Arnold’s together, blah blah blah.”Harry’s Bar was buzzing that Friday evening, pretty much like any other night. No surprise, since it had been awarded ‘best venue’ at the end of 1990. By the start of 1991, the place had become the favored drinking joint of a crowd of footballers, rugby players and an array of local celebrities and wealthy businessmen. It was also every pretty girl’s chosen platform to showcase her assets. For ambitious women, it was the ideal hunting ground for bagging themselves a boyfriend who was likely famous, or rich, or both. Kassandra, who was 23 then, was on a mission that night, and she looked stellar in her little black dress, kitten heels and flowing silky locks. She had fallen in love with Gordon Steward, the most sought after bachelor in town, and tonight her brother was going to introduce her to him. She had to accentuate her beauty for the occasion, because every single girl in the bar looked like a perfect clothes horse with big boobs, all long legs and wavy long hair. Unusually for her, Kassie was now feeling small, vulnerable, and very aware of it all of a sudden. Her blood was doing a jittery dance in her veins. She was nervous, and that was unusual too. After all, she was one of the most popular girls at Edinburgh University, and not a stranger to the art of breaking young men’s hearts. Why would this golfing champion have to be any different from her previous conquests? Why did she feel so overwhelmed by the idea of meeting him?“Kassie, relax, you can’t speak to him while you’re as hyper as this. He’ll think you’re high or something. That would put a sportsman off immediately. You’re speaking at the speed of sound and it’s not attractive at all. Slow down, breathe. Tell me, what do you think of him in person? Do you still fancy him?”How could she not? He was chocolate-box handsome. Kassandra had seen Gordon on television a few weeks earlier, shortly before the Christmas holidays. Her intention had been to stay single throughout her final year, and concentrate on her studies. But when those big, deep blue eyes had come on the screen, she had felt Gordon’s stare cut into her chest, probing for her soul’s attention. Bang! Taken! At once. How weird. She had fallen in love with his eyes. She sensed the dark story that his soul was reaching out to tell her, like rays through the pixels forming the image of his face, projected by the camera to the center of her heart, where Gordon was pitching his tent. Christmas had provided her with a little bit more free time away from the books and her thesis on the Scottish Knights Templar, and with the opportunity to hone her plans to seduce the famous golfer. She was sure that the Universe would assist her in her new romantic enterprise. So she hadn’t been too surprised when Rufus, during their family Christmas dinner, had mentioned that Gordon was ‘his mate’. Best festive season present ever! She had lied and said she didn’t know who this athlete was. Golf had never been one of her top interests after all. Polo perhaps, through the Hughes’ influence, and football for sure. She was Italian after all. But golf was an old man’s activity in her books. Rufus had insisted that it wasn’t so, it was quite sexy. He had taken up golfing at the same exclusive club where Gordon’s marvelous practice was a regular feature. With mates in common at St. Andrew’s University where both young men were studying, they had become friends. By the end of the Christmas dinner, and before the family Kimble, Kassie had already been informed that Gordon was one year her senior at 24, not particularly interested in his engineering studies and a bit of a lad and a playboy. Soon he would be spending time in Edinburgh where he intended to buy property at the foot of Arthur’s Seat, the main peak in Holyrood Park. Rufus wanted her beautiful sister to meet his new drinking buddy. Gordon had expressed his interest in her exotic looks and sophisticated upbringing from the moment he saw her photograph in Rufus’s apartment. Once again, Kassandra was getting what she wanted without even lifting a finger. And now Gordon was standing in front of her in Harry’s Bar.“He’s the perfect specimen, Gwen, isn’t he? He must be used to catwalk models and actresses for what I know. Not to pint-sized enchantresses like myself.”“Kassie, you’ve just said it yourself, you charm men and I’m yet to meet one who can resist you. I share a flat with you after all, and the number of notches on your bedpost is quite remarkable for someone who’s supposedly not dating this year. And you’re not a midget, you’re petite and quite stunning. No point in throwing this cold feet party right now. Come on, move, chop chop! Your brother is waving at us!”.The two young men approached the girls and Rufus took care of the introductions. No sign of Kassandra’s supposed insecurity was detected as she made a beeline for the Scotsman’s heart. By the end of the night, she and Gordon left Harry’s Bar in the same taxi, headed for a club at his hotel. It wasn’t just a case of young hormones and physical attraction though. The two had discovered that they had something in common: a connection with Kassandra’s academic obsession, the Knights of the Temple of Solomon. That week, it turned out, Gordon was in town to finalize the purchase of an area on the Dalkeith Road. Plans were being made to have his penthouse built there, over the year ahead. When he mentioned the location, Kassie’s eyes had almost popped out of her head. “That place”, she informed him, “had once housed the Residence of the Knights Templar. Nearby, once stood a chapel erected on a hillock known as the Mount Hooly, which belonged to the Templars. That was their holy ground, the very heart of their secret rendezvous and exchange of esoteric knowledge. Can I visit the building site before the bulk of the works start? Please?” Gordon enjoyed seeing the excitement in those long-lashed green eyes, and was already thinking of what he could do with Rufus’s sister once the visit to the Dalkeith Road building site was over. In the bar, she had seemed very cold towards him, and a bit too full of herself for his liking. Up until that lucky point in their conversation when he had mentioned the address where his new house was going to be. He thought he would impress her with the details of the plan, which involved a top-of-the range penthouse equipped with a few hot tubs and an indoor swimming pool. Dalkeith Road was also the ideal location to go for walks on Arthur’s Seat with Moses, his Irish setter, and a ball, a tee and a club. Now he could also place the lovely young daughter of Lord and Lady Hughes in the picture. Although the way in which she got in there was not quite what he had planned. Never mind. He would take her to “feel the energy of the Templars”, as she had requested. A weird girl, for sure. Nobility was always eccentric anyway. And Rufus had also warned him that nobody could stand in the way of her studies. She wanted to be an academic. He wasn’t used to women like her. They normally melted in his stare. Showbiz starlets, models and the odd easy girl had been his staple sexual diet, by the dozen every month. Now Kassandra was here to challenge his habits. He could picture her naked, with her small breasts, firm tummy, lovely round bottom, skin like velvet and the color of dark honey. She smelled pure and expensive. While they were sitting close to each other in the taxi, he had to struggle not to bury his face in her hair and kiss her neck. She kept talking of these mysterious Order that had been put on trial in Edinburgh in 1309. They held secret knowledge and were in possession of holy relics from the Crusades. Gordon had only the faintest notion of these Knights before that night. Now they had become his ticket to the heart and bed of one of the most coveted young women in Scotland. Should he consider having a girlfriend? Especially one who seemed to be more interested in her books and legends than his muscular body and rising fame? He always loved a challenge. He was born to be a winner. The harder a time she would be giving him, the more he would pursue her. And the ‘holier than thou’ she would make herself out to be, the more pleasure he would get once he could enter her doggy style and make her scream his name.
When they reached the Carlton Hotel, snowflakes started to dance in the air. A good sign, Kassie thought. Gordon didn’t even notice.
Star Dream, 10 December 1992
Love was not going to sweep me away like a waterfall until the twenty-sixth springtime of my life. Right then, it was still the winter before such a wondrous time. I was twenty-four and didn’t yet have an idea of the size of the feeling that would hit me a few months later. I can zoom into that day very easily: another gray morning was about to break and the seven hills of Edinburgh were shrouded in cold mist. In one of the Georgian houses in the New Town, I was fast asleep in my blue bedroom. I had painted the entire room, floor to ceiling, that color a few months earlier, during a bout of misplacement activity whilst studying for my Masters Degree. Blue would help my mind focus on the books, I thought. So I had varnished the floor boards “the color of the Ionic sea”, as I informed Gwen, who at the time was one of my two roommates. “I’ll have the walls in a hue akin to the Italian sky at the offset of spring, when the air is a-blaze with the love-spell of blossoms.” I had a penchant for metaphors at that age, especially when I was talking to myself or I was day-dreaming. I guess it was my Venusian blood talking. I knew that many of my friends couldn’t stand my ‘poetic descriptions’. They thought that I used them to come across as different. But Gwen didn’t share their point of view, so I could let my fondness of enchanting descriptions emerge in our conversations. My Welsh friend was an artist who understood that imaging is the staple of life, and words are symbols made to encapsulate stories, convey moods and capture dreams. In years to come, she would become a prominent member of the Transformation Movement, the worldwide association for the evolution of humankind which I would found in 1997. Of course, we both didn’t know any of that, way back in our student years. At that point in time, I was fast asleep and still unclear as to my specific role in the Arkadian Plan. The curtains were pulled. In my dreams, my kaleidoscopic thoughts were immersed in the world of my imagination. It was 5:40 a.m. and my mind was lulled by a vision: I lived on a star I was at one with. With no boundaries, I floated and whirled in a fairy-tale landscape of a pinkish radiance. The environment looked beautiful and liquid. Objects and people were outlined in vivid colors interwoven with harmonious sounds and a palette of delicate, happy feelings. It was a familiar place. An invisible melodic drone underlined this magical climate. My heart, eyes and ears were processing this dream-world in complete synchrony, producing a mono-feeling of bliss that I hoped would last forever and I could remember upon awakening. In my dream, I was floating down the stream of notes, sounds and pulsations which felt like an echo through my body. My hands were resting on my tummy, sensing the pulsation of musical beats running through my veins. It was pleasant and arousing. I wasn’t alone in my vision. A strong sexual presence followed me: male energy with a powerful sensation of longing. The whole being of this man was pining for me. His breath drew me to the center of his heart where there was a waterfall of emotions. I couldn’t quite see him, yet I felt complete in his company. I stirred in my sleep. My arm stretched out to look for Gordon. He wasn’t in my bed that morning. So I let my fingers slip inside my knickers instead. My body was then filled by a stream of gentle Light-beats. It felt like a musical instrument. The intensity of the starry drone grew as my limbs turned to velvet and sounded like an orchestra. Somewhere in my chest, there was a loud hammering. My heart was the bass drum. The sound became more thunderous and sharper, filling the space between my cells with the distinct tinkle of triangles, cymbals and bell - the loudest bells in the Universe. My fingers kept busy. Climax was approaching. Whirlpools of metallic reverberations traveled up to my head and into my ears in waves of sparkling chimes, on and on like a fountain, like a waterfall upside down. Just a fraction of a second from pleasure, the alarm went off on my bedside table, in loud metallic shrieks. My hand abandoned the warmth of my thighs to silence the clock - 6 AM. My awareness returned to my youthful body. I became the university student again, on automatic pilot. With my eyes half-closed and star-fragments still scattered in my mind, I got out of bed and dragged myself to sit by the window. Not a sound came from the crescent below. “What a dream,” I thought. Its meaning was beyond words. I remembered flashes of sensations, sounds and emotions. Breathing deeply to make myself awake, I parted the muslin curtains to see the outside world. It was snowing. The coldness of the weather moved through my limbs, bringing me back to this new day. Lampposts were lit. Their dim light pierced through the blackness preceding the dawn and across the whiteness of the ground. I sat on the floor resting my back on the radiator. The heat was the first material gift of the day. But it could not be compared to the marvels that had filled my senses just a few minutes before. I smiled from the heart. There was something familiar about that dream: the intimacy of eternity. While I was lighting a stick of incense, I caught a glimpse of my face in the mirror above the fireplace. Despite my bed hair and the dark circles around my eyes, I could see why men found me irresistible. Although my relationship with Gordon had also taught me to feel confident in my womanly charms, that morning I noticed something new in my features and expression. A fresh injection of Life Force had been instilled in me. This is the power that comes from the center of the Universe. “Thank you, Life,” I said. High time was approaching to fulfill my role in the Plan, and express my True Identity. Perhaps what I was supposed to do would soon become clear. My actions were as measured and poised as usual. Just like any other day, I stopped in the kitchen for a glass of hot water with lemon. I thought my roommates would be asleep for another couple of hours. It wasn’t so. I was surprised by a hushed rustling coming from the kitchen. Sam was already up, making scrambled eggs on toast for his breakfast. The caffettiera on the stove was whistling its aromatic tune. He had exams that morning, and he was very nervous. His eyes lowered when he saw me. I kissed him on the cheek and ruffled his blond curls. His mind seemed miles away. I loved Sam like a brother. Although he hated my boyfriend. From the moment Gordon had entered my life almost two years before, bringing the rough throes of his material world into my flawless, ethereal precinct, Sam had always ventilated his disapproval. As a professional golfer, Gordon was a practical, physical man, and my antithesis by all means. But I was an easy prey to his chiseled looks and boyish charms because, for all my depth, I was equally vain then. I was only 23 when we had met, and much of the wisdom that I was to gain in my adult years was only hinted at then, and still lacked the depth of experience. Sam’s eyes were sunken and grave that morning. Did he also guess that time had come for me to embrace my role, and that I would soon leave Piper’s Crescent?“Morning, Kassandra”, he said. He looked very, very tired. “Have you been up all night, Sammy boy?”I placed my hand on his chest: his heart was racing, as I expected. He nodded and blushed, always puzzled at how easily I could touch others without announcing it. Then my energy made him feel calm. “You’re a genius anyway, put those books down!”I laughed as I left the kitchen, closing the door behind me. The house was silent apart from my footsteps on the cracking floorboards of the long, cluttered corridor. I tread carefully as I walked past Sam’s bedroom and three stacked-up bicycles. Stepping over boxes, coats and hats, I passed by Gwen’s tiny box-room, which was adjacent to my own. Ours was a typical student house. It still amuses me to remember the contrast between the order in my room and the chaos outside it. I opened the door to my “magic bedroom.” The sweet scent of incense welcomed me in, soothing my senses and making me feel at home again. I couldn’t bear messy environments or chaotic emotions for too long: they upset my eyes and heart respectively. I needed clarity and space all around me. I was a Venusian after all, although at that stage I didn’t fully know it. My room was wide and airy, a Georgian sanctuary to my strong aesthetic sense. My bed was by the window, opposite the fireplace. The large McIntosh mirror made the room appear even bigger. A crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling. Its light danced on the floor in waves that made it look like water. Shelves were stacked with books on the Templars, the Godhead Society and other esoteric traditions. I had carved out a sitting room area next to the fireplace. It consisted of a settee covered by a golden Damascus throw, and a coffee table made of ivory and wooden plugs. This room was my pride and joy, my temple. My friends thought that only a control freak could live and thrive in such a geometrically perfect, impossibly tidy environment. They couldn’t guess that my love for symmetry and order was spurn by my stellar DNA, and neither could I, way back then.The yoga mat was rolled out on the floor. I lit the gas fire, slipped out of my pajama and put on my leggings and a vest. I clang my Tibetan bells three times and proceeded to salute the Sun with a flow of graceful movements; they were like second nature to me. I loved this moment in my day. It seemed as if time stood still and offered space to potentiality. I called it contemplation through action. After my yoga session, I meditated for ten minutes and then did some journaling back in bed. By 7 a.m. I needed my breakfast so I went back to the kitchen. Sam was taking a shower. He had left some hot coffee in the percolator. I poured myself a cup and put a slice of rye bread in the toaster. Just as the toast popped up, Gwen walked in. We sat at the table and talked about the dreams we had the night before, as we often would. I had studied psychology as part of my undergraduate degree and developed an interest for dream analysis. My roommate illustrated her dream of the previous night, which was about a river of music and light. To her surprise, I told her I had had a similar nocturnal experience. Brad, a black model from Chicago who was Gwen’s new lover, surfaced from her room while my friend and I were reminiscing over the feelings associated with our dream. Everyone was up unusually early that day. It transpired that we’d all dreamed what seemed to be the same imagery. We all roamed sound-filled, starry climes. While I had been woken up by my alarm, the other two had been jolted out of their slumber by a vivid semi-orgasmic sensation in their limbs that they had never experienced before. It had nothing to do with their intimate rendezvous, they swore. It seemed that we each had our own special take of the experience, and we all described it from the perspective of our own consciousness. There was no doubt whatsoever that we had landed in the same “place” during our sleep. That freaked them out. Gwen’s star might have been more colorful. Mine seemed more magical. Brad’s was more physical. But it was the same star nonetheless. The coincidence of three people catching the same imagery and sensations during sleep, on the same night, was beyond statistics. I loved coincidences. The others didn’t. Gwen thought that she and Brad had smoked too much hash the night before. Or perhaps our house was receiving dangerous radiations from some secret technical equipment. Brad did not really say much but kept staring at me, which I didn’t mind as he was quite easy on the eye. Unlike them, I knew that Star like the back of my hand. It was my original home. Sometimes I could even reach it through the power of my intention. And now the energy of my Native Star was making itself felt on Earth, on Piper’s Crescent, through me. I was the bridge between here and there. It was fantastic news. I couldn’t wait to speak to Dr. Boyd at the School of Parapsychological Studies now. She might help me figure out the full meaning of the event. This wasn’t the first instance of some metaphysical oddity in the house. After all, Piper’s Crescent, where we lived, lay on a very prominent ley-line, one of the Earth’s power-spots. Did my experience meant that the Arkadian Plan I had learned about when I was a child was becoming manifest? If so, Dr. Boyd would be ecstatic. What about Lord and Lady Hughes? And Maria-Carmen and Lydia at the Godhead Society? I couldn’t wait to let them know what had happened. For all my enthusiasm, there was definitely someone I wouldn’t want to inform of this remarkable occurrence: Gordon. I knew he wouldn’t be interested in the slightest. He would find it funny, if not ridiculous. A veil of sadness descended on the crimson of my cheeks. I shook it off. My boyfriend was my ‘aspect out of balance’, and the fact was daunting. He was no real mirror to my heart. I still hoped that, over time, things might change, and he might too. That was no time for sentimentality though: I had to get going. The Arkadian Plan was definitely unfolding although I had not yet remembered the details of it. “They will become clear as they are happening”, I reassured myself. “No need to have too much knowledge in advance. The sheer beauty of experiencing my True Identity in last night’s dream will more than do for now”. The snow was still falling when I stepped out. Edinburgh was as pretty as a Christmas postcard. The day was alive with the promise of wonders ahead. My holy heart was singing because I had found the Key connecting me to my Birth Star, the Key that was going to kick-start my transformation, the frequency that could change those around me too.
[continue to Chapter Three: HEARTBREAK]
January 28, 2014
Chapter Three - "HEARTBREAK"
[back to Chapter Two] ThreeHEARTBREAK
Meanwhile in Arkadia (Earth time: December 1992)
We are the Arkadian Masters. We are known to humans as the saints of all cultures and ages, as the gods and goddesses of ancient lore, as heavenly angels visiting the Earth. Through many lifetimes, we have become self-realized. We can raise the vibration of the cells of our bodies to sustain the frequency of the Light. We operate in the fourth dimension, at the junction between the material and the spiritual. We can travel across space and time. Our lives are at the service of humanity. Our Plan is to help the Earth transform back into the Garden of Eden, which is its natural state. Our purpose is to assist humankind in achieving its potential for Divinity, in alignment with the Ancient Venusian Prophecy and the Will of the Universe.We are elsewhere in space and out of time. This message is reaching you from Arkadia, the Earthly outpost of Venusian activity hovering over the Gobi Desert, where we live. This place, which is invisible to the human eye, is the Earth’s Blueprint in the Mind of the Universe. It is the Thought Form of the third planet from the Sun in its pristine state, as conceived of by its Maker. Arkadia vibrates to the pulsation of the fifth dimension, a parallel plane of potentiality also known as the Realm of Ideas. Indeed, all the Arts originate here, as do many of humanity’s hopes and dreams. For humans, poetry, music, dance and romance are some of the paths back to this dimension. Where we are, reality and unreality can swap places, and time and motion are recognized as illusions. Here, the mind controls matter.True artists and healers are among our allies on Earth. They are beacons pointing the way towards the Realm of Arkadia for the rest of humanity. These sensitive human beings can act as vessels for the symbols that the Universe conveys in the guise of art, and that we call the Secret Language. These symbols contain love-keys that can activate a transformation in those who let their senses receive them. Artists and healers are shamans and initiates into the Mysteries of Ascension, the evolution of humankind into its immortal potential. Oscar O’Leary is one of such artists. They are always on the lookout for the signs the Earth is sending their way in the form of harmonious patterns. Whilst they are incarnated in the third dimension, the plane of materiality, duality and separation, they can catch these signs so they can bring them back home. True artists and shamans can move through the fourth dimension, which is the meeting place of spirit and matter, and back to the fifth dimension of ideas, potentiality, monism and unity here in Arkadia. The material and the spiritual planes are embodied by the Earth and Arkadia, which are separated by a filter called the Veil of Illusion, or the Veil of Maya. This Veil is where the Mind of Creation is perceived as fragmented, although this is pure illusion, a trick played by the individualized minds of each living being. In fact, all minds are but One. However, the sense of human identity is greatly determined by the ego. Unity of mind is only experienced by a few enlightened souls on the three-dimensional Earth. The opposite is true in Arkadia, which is inhabited by pure minds whose symbiosis and synchronicity are constantly perfected. We are such minds, and we use our Light-Bodies in our work to ensure that the Purpose of Creation can be revealed to the dwellers of the Earth. Arkadia is as real to us as it is a myth to human beings. As the legend goes, the Gobi desert was once a great ocean where there was a landmass called the Diamond Island. Its dwellers had bodies made of Light. The humans called them saints and worshiped them as deities in the past. To the uninitiated, the desert is all that can be seen. But Arkadia is no legend: it is a parallel dimension. To us, there is no desert but an ocean of Light surrounding our Kingdom. We are those Light Beings, and the island is our home. In origin, we were are a colony of Higher Beings. Some of us are of Earthly descent or, more precisely, of human ascent. Those among us who were born humans reached this level by perfecting our deeds and raising the frequency of our material bodies to transfiguration. But most of us are Star People from Venus. We often interact with humans, though invisibly so. We hear and answer their prayers.Kassandra is inseparable from the purpose of our Arkadian Plan. Her role in the Movement for Planetary Ascension is fundamental. The Movement includes humans as well as Light Beings, mortal and immortal alike. It revolves around the Ancient Venusian Prophecy that tells how humanity will change into a higher, more evolved, more loving race. This will happen once humankind wakes up to its Potential, and to the Light of the human soul. However, over time, the ego has cast the thick fog of illusion over it. Thus, humans perceive and create the world in a distorted manner. The physical location of this Light is in the pineal gland, or third eye, of the species’ brain. Initiates into the Mysteries of Ascension undergo training to open the third eye. This, in turn, will kick-start the complete reworking of the human organism into a more sophisticated instrument, and will activate humanity’s twelve-strand spiritual DNA. The first two strands of DNA, scientifically discovered by humanity, are physical: the double helix building blocks of life. But there are five other double helix pairs in the DNA system of life. These pairs are non-physical and are imprinted on the human energy field. Together, the six pairs of strands constitute the “twelve-strand DNA system”. Through the process of activation of the other five pairs, human beings will become ‘enlightened’ at the physical level, transforming their bodies into special vehicles capable of self-healing, teletransportation, telepathy and other so-called ‘super powers’. They will become the masters of matter and elude death for longer than they are currently able. According to a famous Mayan prophecy, which is none other than a reinterpretation of the Ancient Venusian Prophecy, on 21 December 2012 the number of ascended humans will reach a critical mass. This will trigger a series of transformations and bring about major changes in the world. For the better. It will be the end of the world as humankind knows it. It will happen against many odds, although many are sabotaging the Prophecy. But we know the outcome because we travel across time, just like Kassandra.The Earth is Paradise, despite the fact that not many can see that. Children can catch a glimpse of the beauty of this planet, albeit growing up tends to adulterate one’s soul. But the day is approaching when, in the Light of the True Self, human dwellers will learn to distinguish the illusions of their egos from the truth of their souls. Evil will disappear. All internal conflict, which once produced external struggle, hatred, competition and war, shall cease to exist at last. The King of Arkadia will emerge to govern the New Earth, revealed in all her glory to the renewed human race. The story has a happy-ending, and it’s been written in the stars. However, a period of decadent, dissolute materialism will precede the Age of Arkadia. This dark prelude coincides with the final decades of the twentieth century, and the first few decades of the new millennium. At the time of this communication, the Great Diamond Lodge is buzzing with activity. The meeting of the High Council is about to start. We, the Arkadian Masters, are set to discuss new developments in Kassandra’s life on Earth. Our session has to be kept secret from the rest of the Island’s inhabitants. It has become difficult to connect with the Star Girl and detect her frequency on Earth. She is changing, she is becoming less of herself, we think. Gordon is an agent of the Dark Forces. It is obvious that his influence has lowered her energy and challenged her self-focus. She is leaning a bit too much towards her human side for our liking. It is important that we should maintain a watchful eye on her, to keep her from deviating from her destiny’s course any further. Although we cannot intervene directly lest she incur the penalty of karma, we must trust her ability to remember her True Identity even without our help. Is she going to do that?Kassandra is a young woman in love, or at least she thinks that she is, and her heart is becoming more and more human through experience, by exchanging and absorbing the low-frequency material that forms matter. Her Star Seed is still strong and fully functioning in its Divinity, but she is now often unaware of it. She is too busy paying attention to Gordon’s interests, his golfing tournaments, and devising sultry ways to keep him from the lures of the women who flock around him. He is famous and sought after. She is jealous. Her Italian genes are stubborn and to the fore these days. It is all part of the Plan, and we, the Masters, know it. But we hadn’t expected Kassandra to follow her hormones rather than her Venusian know-how to this extent. We can only mean for things to pan out, because this is our nature and this is the way things are in the fifth dimension. Anything that veers from the Plan is but the product of the Dark Forces and their mischievous leader. It all looks like an illusion from here, but not from the Earth. It seems that unruliness is to characterize Kassandra’s Earthly adventures from this point onward. Our congenitally fixed outlook now requires some flexibility on our part. This is a challenge that calls for all our individual skills and for the most synchronized joint effort.“Lady Master Venusia, our Queen, is summoned to speak first on the matter of concern”, thunders the Arkadian Chief Councilor, Lord Kutuh, Master of the Earth.“Masters, it is only expected that we shouldn’t understand this part of Kassandra’s journey”, Lady Venusia starts. “She has to go through the most profound human initiation known as heartbreak. It’s part of her destiny: she must understand what it takes to be a woman. Healing the imbalance of the man-woman relationship on Earth lies at the core of the Ancient Arkadian Prophecy. Kassandra must connect her essence to that of all the other women who are currently alive on the Earth, as well as those who had incarnated before. Women carry the ancestral mark of suffering at the hand of men. Female humans are light-carriers, holders of the Sacred Blue Flame, initiators of the Spark. But they have forgotten. Kassandra must now take the same journey that all women on the Earth have taken. As life-bringers, the are betrayed and abandoned on a regular basis, violated, cheated upon, humiliated, ridiculed, bought and sold, insulted, hurt and even killed. History as well as the present times are plagued by instances of the denial of the Divine Feminine, of the denial of the Life Force itself, which women embody and distribute. Only a low-vibrational human being such as Gordon Steward can ensure that this kind of pain will be inflicted deeply also on my Star Child. Kassandra must endure the predicament of being brought down to a frequency level that she has never experienced, for the sake of healing the past for the female of the human species. She can and she will. It is a taxing test for her Star Seed, to see if the Plan can indeed program actions even at the low frequency of matter. Her Blue Flame might appear tiny, even invisible, from here. But that seems to be so only through the illusion of time. Kassandra is exactly like any other young woman of her age right now. But I can assure you that we won’t lose her. However, it is true that we won’t see her and that I shall remain the only connection to her actions for a little while longer. Because a mother’s bond can never die, even when it’s been strained by unfamiliar situations like those my daughter is starting to encounter.”“Very well, Venusia”, Kutuh continues. “But we, the Masters, also share a forever-bond with the Star Girl, one which cannot be severed or clouded, even if temporarily. And the mere fact of talking about her is also activating her fifth-dimensional abilities, although her heart is set on very Earthly concerns. This can have strange consequences, as we’ve seen before through the experiences of other Venusian Masters on Earth, from Jesus to Leonardo. Not to mention the great loss we experienced from the start, the Lost Prince, who fell prey to the temptations of the material plane... The human experience can prove a real challenge for the blue-flamed ones. This time we can’t even conceive of yet another failed attempt at turning humans into their better version, of losing our most important Royal ...”The Arkadian King radiates golden rays across the Hall to signal that he wants to speak next.“Kassandra is infallible. Just like the Prophecy. The Lost Prince was supposed to help her but he proved unreliable from the start. He was supposed to find her in those early days, and he ended up becoming trapped in matter. But there is no need to worry when it comes to Kassandra, there is no point in causing concern to the rest of the Arkadian population, even now that events seem to be deviating from the Plan. The other Arkadians must be spared from all of this, so that they can continue to keep their minds on the idea that the Plan is perfect. Because it is. Everything else is an illusion, which has no space here in Elysia. If things were to go wrong in Scotland, or if Kassandra’s course were to stir from what is written in the Stars and by the Stars, well, Time will go into a loop and actions will repeat themselves until resolution. It is fixed. She stands for the end of Time as it is known on Earth. She is at the Center of the Circle, where only what is rightful and what is best will survive. Everything else will have to disappear into the meaninglessness whence it came”.“But Kyrius”, Venusia is now speaking again, boldly interrupting the King’s contribution, “your stance is very cold. You don’t really appreciate that things on Earth are different, and that there is beauty and love in being flexible, in allowing for change, in accepting that sometimes things won’t go the way you had hoped they would. I know that because of my connection to my offspring, I can feel their emotions, every quiver with trepidation at any difficult choice they have to make, at any joy that sings in their souls... I try not to let these Earthly emotions dwell on my mind for too long. They are very different from the fifth dimensional waves that give rise to Arkadia, that keep it together. But human love and pain still contain aspects of the Core Frequency. I know that and I can assure you that this is the reason why the Plan cannot fail, that humans are reaching for the Stars as much as we are. Deep down, I feel that by now I can call the whole of humanity the Children of Venus...”At Lady Venusia’s final words, our rays converge like laser beams towards the Blue Flame radiating from her heart. Our eyes pop open like saucers. What is our Queen implying? But new waves of peace are entering our souls in this moment of revelation, so no further uttering can now escape our lips, nor can doubt of any form dwell on our minds any longer. Because the Truth always makes you forget everything else.
Kassandra’s Diary, 2 January 1993
I am writing this first thing in the morning while I’m still in bed. I’m in the Borders where I’m staying at Gordon’s family house for Hogmanay. He is lying next to me and still sound asleep … his face so handsome in its vulnerability, his muscular body relaxed while his mind is in his dream world. I am wide awake instead, and I didn’t get much sleep last night. It was a fun party and we had plenty to drink. Then we continued our private celebrations in Gordon’s old bedroom, trying to keep quiet not be heard by Mr and Mrs Steward. I thought I would sleep like a log as we certainly burnt a lot of energy in our nocturnal tryst. But no, here I am just a couple of hours later, having just woken up with a great sense of alertness and clarity. And I don’t feel tired at all, but completely alert. I look at my boyfriend and I want to stroke his legs and wait for his morning erection. But stuff is going through my head, and it’s too powerful to ignore. Even Gordon’s body can’t stop me from listening to the information I seem to be retrieving unintentionally and yet relentlessly. It’s impossible to fight this stream of consciousness... Memories of my True Identity are flooding in. I need to capture them before they disappear like faint images from a lovely dream. I am not fully human, or only human to be precise. My life has a higher purpose, though I often tend to forget about it. Throughout my childhood years, I could sense I was being observed and tested. The contents of my mind were never left completely alone. I received messages and instructions, like my mum did, except I heard them clearly and they made sense. Yet this didn’t scare me or cause me any concern. As I child, I didn’t find it particularly odd to keep all this information to myself. I didn’t think that I was being delusional or showing the signs of schizophrenia. I found the process natural; it was simply the outcome of my higher powers being fiercely expressed. My life then had not yet been tarnished by the lies and concerns of adulthood. I wasn’t a normal child from the very beginning. Grown-ups would praise me for my intelligence, my attentiveness, my ability to learn and articulate concepts remarkably well for my very young age. They didn’t know that in actual fact I was acquainted with a lot of things long before life made me experience them. All knowledge was present in my DNA, and I only had to keep an open mind to access it. I taught myself to read and write very early in life, for instance, though my father insisted he was the one who helped me learn. But I deciphered the symbols of the alphabet myself. From a ripe young age, my memory would often be unfazed by the boundaries of time. Knowledge came before experience, and my intelligence and memory were all-embracing.I could even remember the day when I was born. I could re-live it in my mind. There I was, being born! A human being! A girl! It did take me a while to get out of that tunnel, and I didn’t know how to do it. After all, I was experiencing this ‘while’, something that I was utterly unfamiliar with, for the first time, pondering as I was whether I’d made the right decision or not. But everybody in this Galaxy knows that the right decision is the one you’ve made or else! Once you’re in matter, once you materialize, it does take this strange currency called time to change your mind. And time is a traitor sometimes. It makes you forget who you are, why you’re here, who you’re here with, and so on and so forth. So there I was, having been stuck for seventy-two hours, when at last, the full moon my accomplice, the final pull (that was actually my mum’s pushing) took me to the light. Born into sight of this world, into sight of the Earth. I was born on Lovers’ Day, as I had intended, except that my consciousness had shrunk to such a tiny point I couldn’t remember any of this. I was a bundle of confusion, chaos, cells, a bombardment of sensations. In a second I couldn’t remember who I was anymore, let alone the fact that I had decided to incarnate to find my Other Half, my Shadow Self, my Soul Mate, my Alchemical Twin, my Holy Mirror.My physical senses were a novelty. How weird reality seemed through the channels of experience that humans use to approach the world. Reality appeared painful, wobbly! So limited, so different. Fragmented. I felt as if I was the whole of creation squeezed into a tiny form. All I could do was scream my lungs out. The entire Universe was in me, here, howling its shrieks. What I was thinking was “Let go of the pain you’ve just experienced, let go, let go... forget, forget, forget... it’s worth nothing... that’s all there is to it... human... birth... one of the peak experiences to have... don’t cling to it... sure it’s your first and only Earthly life and you want to take your time.... But let go quickly or this pain will squirm through your heart... and squeeze out the memories of your True Identity... sleep, sweet one, sleep...” Pain was easy to let go of way back then, as my body had no previous frame of reference to connect it to. Being human felt like something was missing from the very beginning. It is that ‘something’ I am here to find. The symbolism of human birth is remarkable: separation from the Source is expressed so violently... it hurts so much that we all forget it... Yet we are here to remember... Not an easy game, this life on Earth. Perhaps on some level the human predicament may seem like a pretty, yet sad ‘fairy tale’ type of a story. Hopeless, even. A search for wholeness in a world of separateness. Despite all the necessary difficulties that my human birth entailed, it was impossible for me to forget that I was here because of my choice. I knew that everything and everyone in my life was meant to remind me of me, that life reflected me back, and that the Universe would help me remember completeness again. I had to hold that vision. I was looking at the world through my own eyes. My little life story, as insignificant as it may have seemed to an onlooker, would be informing all of my experience while I was incarnate, whether I was observing it consciously or reacting to it subconsciously. The outcome of the accuracy of my choices could be life as a Star Woman in a human body. The Earth herself was calling out for the birth of the new race I was starting, a race of angels...My long and difficult birth had made me a very aloof child who was often reluctant to take part in mundane activities. I found solace in my own company and shied away from that of other people. I preferred my mind and what it came up with to watching telly. I didn’t listen to other people’s opinions and I often knew before they expressed them that they were biased. I was bright, very bright: my Core-Light was fully switched on. Even in my mother’s womb I could figure things out. I would listen to those muffled conversations beyond ‘the Veil’ of her flesh. I could feel the energy of her surroundings. I could tell changes in her swinging moods and visualize them in different colors. I could even tell what the world around her looked like: I could picture it in my mind without having laid my physical eyes on it. Of course, I recognized the invisible visitors from my early years. And I envisaged that dad would abandon mum and me when I was still a little girl. And that mum would leave me too. I knew right from the inception that there was someone who would never desert me, even though at times he’d want and try to. I’ve not met him in manifest life yet, though his spirit is strongly connected to mine. That someone isn’t Gordon, as much as I try to convince myself otherwise. When my powers grow stronger, I will find the strength to let Gordon go. Not yet though. But soon, I guess, the day will come when I will show the world that there’s so much more to me than meets the eye. From the day I was conceived, I’ve had what they call the gift of prophecy. I call it coming from the future. My purpose in life is calling me to accept my function in the Arkadian Plan. I am not going to fight it anymore. My human side is frightened. I have to let my soul take care of it.
Edinburgh, February 1993: 25th Birthday
The new year had started on the wrong foot for Gordon and me. We argued constantly over the most irrelevant things, such as which restaurants to go to or how to spend our holidays and free time together. The only good thing about it was making up afterward, which meant mind-blowing sex of the type that makes you blush when you think about it the day after. Gordon and I were addicted to each other on the physical plane. And we were both jealous of each other’s power over the members of the opposite gender. Ours was a match made in hell, despite the fact that I was trying to drag it into heaven by squeezing the handsome Mr Steward into my definition of my Soul Mate. When the eve of my twenty-fifth birthday finally arrived, it was shrouded in a cloak of sorrow so heavy I wouldn’t outgrow it for a few months. It wasn’t the passing of time that was my concern. I didn’t feel I was about to get any older. I didn’t believe in aging. Such were the preoccupations of those who didn’t know the Truth. I was afraid of Gordon. I sensed that he was about to brand a scorching mark onto the focus of my attention. My intuition was already sending butterflies in my stomach. He would soon end our relationship so badly, like a coward, choosing the norm against the almost impossible wonders that I’d always hinted at, that I had so lovingly and generously prepared for him. Not that I could tell him the secret that I held. It wasn’t stuff for the uninitiated. But I hadn’t expected his betrayal to hurt me so deeply, and to shake the very foundation of my identity.I had known for a while that he was growing weary of my mysterious ways, I could concede that. But I had hoped that he could continue to be magnetized by my charms and generous sexual know-how. I kept fooling myself in my belief that the promise of another world could wait until the day he could become part of it. But in the end, Gordon didn’t want to play along with me and my dreams. Instead, he chose to become involved with someone else who was older than me and him, and by all means my inferior in intelligence and beauty. What could I expect of him? He was a creature of the Earth, so he let his earthly nature have the best of the Star Seed I had tried to plant in his heart, to no avail. Earlier that night, in a candle-lit restaurant on the Castle Esplanade, I faced up to my fears about my future with Gordon, or the lack of one. I had always dreaded the thought that our relationship wouldn’t last through to the Shift of Paradigm set to culminate in 2012. My most recent concerns, however, had been of a much more human nature. Something had gone very, very wrong. He was cheating on me, I was sure. Having imbibed half a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc to ease my nerves and after a very expensive dinner he was going to pay for, I confronted him. “Are you sleeping with Linda?”He didn’t expect that. His blue eyes turned serious, deep, and then angry. There was a long silence. He didn’t have the courage to look at me as I was talking. Then he excused himself to go to the toilet, leaving me alone at the table with a pale face and my whole world on a cliff hanger. It took him forever to come back, and he seemed angry now. His words were cold and his stare was unfaltering. I guessed he had practiced in the mirror in the gents. Oddly, I found him irresistible. “I only had a one-night stand with her, two months ago. You had your exams and no time for me, and I’m a man... And now she’s pregnant. This is the real headache...”His hands kept folding and unfolding the linen napkin. The blue of his eyes had turned to steel. Responsibility towards others had never been his forte. Now he seemed to lay the blame for his actions on me and Linda. I had heard enough. I could hardly breathe but I tried my best to articulate my words as if I wasn’t hurt. But my heart had almost come to a halt“You’re such an idiot, Gordon.” I almost chocked on my words. “Were you ever going to tell me or did you expect me to find out by other means?” He seemed surprised at my strength, and so was I. Courage is in my stellar nature after all, and it had come to my rescue. I stood up, shot him a cold glance and said: “Don’t even try to follow me.” With dignity and poise, I walked away from him and the pain he’d inflicted. I even gyrated my hips in what I thought was a sexy stride. Luck was on my side and I found a taxi waiting at the rank by St Giles’ Cathedral. I managed some chit-chat with the driver on the way to Piper’s Crescent. The journey only took five minutes at night. When I arrived, I climbed the stairs up to my apartment focusing on my breath not to panic. Once I hit the silence of my room, I broke down in sobs. Gwen and Sam woke up. My body was shaking in misery, uncontrollably. My mind could hardly grasp what had happened. My ego had just brought me down to my knees. I couldn’t fight it any longer: my human side had surrendered to desperation. Gordon had turned me and my love for him down. He had rejected me. I wasn’t wanted, he had preferred someone else. Even if only once, as he maintained. But that was enough to severe our bond forever. He was my enemy now. He had brought Darkness into my heart, he had clouded my mind and my emotions. I didn’t know any of those feelings that were now running down my veins like a flooding river. I was in pain, I was suffering. My throat had started to hurt with all the crying. I hugged my pillow and buried my lovelorn face in it. The light in my room was switched off, just like my connection to the Source. I felt abandoned by Life itself, as if I were falling into an abyss. A cruel male voice was whispering cynical words in my ear. Was it the remnants of Gordon’s ego?“Kassandra, what a fool! The perfect match doesn’t exist, all the love that you feel is just a by-product of madness, of the neediness of the orphan that you are... you have no Twin Soul, no one can make you feel complete, all you will do is long for perfection but you will never achieve it. This is only the beginning of your heartache...”Who was this entity who seemed to rejoice in my sorrow? Why did he want to possess me and fill my soul with the lowest emotions? The thought of death came to my mind in that very moment, but it disappeared quickly. Then a heavy silence came to soothe me all of a sudden.
[continue to Chapter Four: POWER]
Meanwhile in Arkadia (Earth time: December 1992)
We are the Arkadian Masters. We are known to humans as the saints of all cultures and ages, as the gods and goddesses of ancient lore, as heavenly angels visiting the Earth. Through many lifetimes, we have become self-realized. We can raise the vibration of the cells of our bodies to sustain the frequency of the Light. We operate in the fourth dimension, at the junction between the material and the spiritual. We can travel across space and time. Our lives are at the service of humanity. Our Plan is to help the Earth transform back into the Garden of Eden, which is its natural state. Our purpose is to assist humankind in achieving its potential for Divinity, in alignment with the Ancient Venusian Prophecy and the Will of the Universe.We are elsewhere in space and out of time. This message is reaching you from Arkadia, the Earthly outpost of Venusian activity hovering over the Gobi Desert, where we live. This place, which is invisible to the human eye, is the Earth’s Blueprint in the Mind of the Universe. It is the Thought Form of the third planet from the Sun in its pristine state, as conceived of by its Maker. Arkadia vibrates to the pulsation of the fifth dimension, a parallel plane of potentiality also known as the Realm of Ideas. Indeed, all the Arts originate here, as do many of humanity’s hopes and dreams. For humans, poetry, music, dance and romance are some of the paths back to this dimension. Where we are, reality and unreality can swap places, and time and motion are recognized as illusions. Here, the mind controls matter.True artists and healers are among our allies on Earth. They are beacons pointing the way towards the Realm of Arkadia for the rest of humanity. These sensitive human beings can act as vessels for the symbols that the Universe conveys in the guise of art, and that we call the Secret Language. These symbols contain love-keys that can activate a transformation in those who let their senses receive them. Artists and healers are shamans and initiates into the Mysteries of Ascension, the evolution of humankind into its immortal potential. Oscar O’Leary is one of such artists. They are always on the lookout for the signs the Earth is sending their way in the form of harmonious patterns. Whilst they are incarnated in the third dimension, the plane of materiality, duality and separation, they can catch these signs so they can bring them back home. True artists and shamans can move through the fourth dimension, which is the meeting place of spirit and matter, and back to the fifth dimension of ideas, potentiality, monism and unity here in Arkadia. The material and the spiritual planes are embodied by the Earth and Arkadia, which are separated by a filter called the Veil of Illusion, or the Veil of Maya. This Veil is where the Mind of Creation is perceived as fragmented, although this is pure illusion, a trick played by the individualized minds of each living being. In fact, all minds are but One. However, the sense of human identity is greatly determined by the ego. Unity of mind is only experienced by a few enlightened souls on the three-dimensional Earth. The opposite is true in Arkadia, which is inhabited by pure minds whose symbiosis and synchronicity are constantly perfected. We are such minds, and we use our Light-Bodies in our work to ensure that the Purpose of Creation can be revealed to the dwellers of the Earth. Arkadia is as real to us as it is a myth to human beings. As the legend goes, the Gobi desert was once a great ocean where there was a landmass called the Diamond Island. Its dwellers had bodies made of Light. The humans called them saints and worshiped them as deities in the past. To the uninitiated, the desert is all that can be seen. But Arkadia is no legend: it is a parallel dimension. To us, there is no desert but an ocean of Light surrounding our Kingdom. We are those Light Beings, and the island is our home. In origin, we were are a colony of Higher Beings. Some of us are of Earthly descent or, more precisely, of human ascent. Those among us who were born humans reached this level by perfecting our deeds and raising the frequency of our material bodies to transfiguration. But most of us are Star People from Venus. We often interact with humans, though invisibly so. We hear and answer their prayers.Kassandra is inseparable from the purpose of our Arkadian Plan. Her role in the Movement for Planetary Ascension is fundamental. The Movement includes humans as well as Light Beings, mortal and immortal alike. It revolves around the Ancient Venusian Prophecy that tells how humanity will change into a higher, more evolved, more loving race. This will happen once humankind wakes up to its Potential, and to the Light of the human soul. However, over time, the ego has cast the thick fog of illusion over it. Thus, humans perceive and create the world in a distorted manner. The physical location of this Light is in the pineal gland, or third eye, of the species’ brain. Initiates into the Mysteries of Ascension undergo training to open the third eye. This, in turn, will kick-start the complete reworking of the human organism into a more sophisticated instrument, and will activate humanity’s twelve-strand spiritual DNA. The first two strands of DNA, scientifically discovered by humanity, are physical: the double helix building blocks of life. But there are five other double helix pairs in the DNA system of life. These pairs are non-physical and are imprinted on the human energy field. Together, the six pairs of strands constitute the “twelve-strand DNA system”. Through the process of activation of the other five pairs, human beings will become ‘enlightened’ at the physical level, transforming their bodies into special vehicles capable of self-healing, teletransportation, telepathy and other so-called ‘super powers’. They will become the masters of matter and elude death for longer than they are currently able. According to a famous Mayan prophecy, which is none other than a reinterpretation of the Ancient Venusian Prophecy, on 21 December 2012 the number of ascended humans will reach a critical mass. This will trigger a series of transformations and bring about major changes in the world. For the better. It will be the end of the world as humankind knows it. It will happen against many odds, although many are sabotaging the Prophecy. But we know the outcome because we travel across time, just like Kassandra.The Earth is Paradise, despite the fact that not many can see that. Children can catch a glimpse of the beauty of this planet, albeit growing up tends to adulterate one’s soul. But the day is approaching when, in the Light of the True Self, human dwellers will learn to distinguish the illusions of their egos from the truth of their souls. Evil will disappear. All internal conflict, which once produced external struggle, hatred, competition and war, shall cease to exist at last. The King of Arkadia will emerge to govern the New Earth, revealed in all her glory to the renewed human race. The story has a happy-ending, and it’s been written in the stars. However, a period of decadent, dissolute materialism will precede the Age of Arkadia. This dark prelude coincides with the final decades of the twentieth century, and the first few decades of the new millennium. At the time of this communication, the Great Diamond Lodge is buzzing with activity. The meeting of the High Council is about to start. We, the Arkadian Masters, are set to discuss new developments in Kassandra’s life on Earth. Our session has to be kept secret from the rest of the Island’s inhabitants. It has become difficult to connect with the Star Girl and detect her frequency on Earth. She is changing, she is becoming less of herself, we think. Gordon is an agent of the Dark Forces. It is obvious that his influence has lowered her energy and challenged her self-focus. She is leaning a bit too much towards her human side for our liking. It is important that we should maintain a watchful eye on her, to keep her from deviating from her destiny’s course any further. Although we cannot intervene directly lest she incur the penalty of karma, we must trust her ability to remember her True Identity even without our help. Is she going to do that?Kassandra is a young woman in love, or at least she thinks that she is, and her heart is becoming more and more human through experience, by exchanging and absorbing the low-frequency material that forms matter. Her Star Seed is still strong and fully functioning in its Divinity, but she is now often unaware of it. She is too busy paying attention to Gordon’s interests, his golfing tournaments, and devising sultry ways to keep him from the lures of the women who flock around him. He is famous and sought after. She is jealous. Her Italian genes are stubborn and to the fore these days. It is all part of the Plan, and we, the Masters, know it. But we hadn’t expected Kassandra to follow her hormones rather than her Venusian know-how to this extent. We can only mean for things to pan out, because this is our nature and this is the way things are in the fifth dimension. Anything that veers from the Plan is but the product of the Dark Forces and their mischievous leader. It all looks like an illusion from here, but not from the Earth. It seems that unruliness is to characterize Kassandra’s Earthly adventures from this point onward. Our congenitally fixed outlook now requires some flexibility on our part. This is a challenge that calls for all our individual skills and for the most synchronized joint effort.“Lady Master Venusia, our Queen, is summoned to speak first on the matter of concern”, thunders the Arkadian Chief Councilor, Lord Kutuh, Master of the Earth.“Masters, it is only expected that we shouldn’t understand this part of Kassandra’s journey”, Lady Venusia starts. “She has to go through the most profound human initiation known as heartbreak. It’s part of her destiny: she must understand what it takes to be a woman. Healing the imbalance of the man-woman relationship on Earth lies at the core of the Ancient Arkadian Prophecy. Kassandra must connect her essence to that of all the other women who are currently alive on the Earth, as well as those who had incarnated before. Women carry the ancestral mark of suffering at the hand of men. Female humans are light-carriers, holders of the Sacred Blue Flame, initiators of the Spark. But they have forgotten. Kassandra must now take the same journey that all women on the Earth have taken. As life-bringers, the are betrayed and abandoned on a regular basis, violated, cheated upon, humiliated, ridiculed, bought and sold, insulted, hurt and even killed. History as well as the present times are plagued by instances of the denial of the Divine Feminine, of the denial of the Life Force itself, which women embody and distribute. Only a low-vibrational human being such as Gordon Steward can ensure that this kind of pain will be inflicted deeply also on my Star Child. Kassandra must endure the predicament of being brought down to a frequency level that she has never experienced, for the sake of healing the past for the female of the human species. She can and she will. It is a taxing test for her Star Seed, to see if the Plan can indeed program actions even at the low frequency of matter. Her Blue Flame might appear tiny, even invisible, from here. But that seems to be so only through the illusion of time. Kassandra is exactly like any other young woman of her age right now. But I can assure you that we won’t lose her. However, it is true that we won’t see her and that I shall remain the only connection to her actions for a little while longer. Because a mother’s bond can never die, even when it’s been strained by unfamiliar situations like those my daughter is starting to encounter.”“Very well, Venusia”, Kutuh continues. “But we, the Masters, also share a forever-bond with the Star Girl, one which cannot be severed or clouded, even if temporarily. And the mere fact of talking about her is also activating her fifth-dimensional abilities, although her heart is set on very Earthly concerns. This can have strange consequences, as we’ve seen before through the experiences of other Venusian Masters on Earth, from Jesus to Leonardo. Not to mention the great loss we experienced from the start, the Lost Prince, who fell prey to the temptations of the material plane... The human experience can prove a real challenge for the blue-flamed ones. This time we can’t even conceive of yet another failed attempt at turning humans into their better version, of losing our most important Royal ...”The Arkadian King radiates golden rays across the Hall to signal that he wants to speak next.“Kassandra is infallible. Just like the Prophecy. The Lost Prince was supposed to help her but he proved unreliable from the start. He was supposed to find her in those early days, and he ended up becoming trapped in matter. But there is no need to worry when it comes to Kassandra, there is no point in causing concern to the rest of the Arkadian population, even now that events seem to be deviating from the Plan. The other Arkadians must be spared from all of this, so that they can continue to keep their minds on the idea that the Plan is perfect. Because it is. Everything else is an illusion, which has no space here in Elysia. If things were to go wrong in Scotland, or if Kassandra’s course were to stir from what is written in the Stars and by the Stars, well, Time will go into a loop and actions will repeat themselves until resolution. It is fixed. She stands for the end of Time as it is known on Earth. She is at the Center of the Circle, where only what is rightful and what is best will survive. Everything else will have to disappear into the meaninglessness whence it came”.“But Kyrius”, Venusia is now speaking again, boldly interrupting the King’s contribution, “your stance is very cold. You don’t really appreciate that things on Earth are different, and that there is beauty and love in being flexible, in allowing for change, in accepting that sometimes things won’t go the way you had hoped they would. I know that because of my connection to my offspring, I can feel their emotions, every quiver with trepidation at any difficult choice they have to make, at any joy that sings in their souls... I try not to let these Earthly emotions dwell on my mind for too long. They are very different from the fifth dimensional waves that give rise to Arkadia, that keep it together. But human love and pain still contain aspects of the Core Frequency. I know that and I can assure you that this is the reason why the Plan cannot fail, that humans are reaching for the Stars as much as we are. Deep down, I feel that by now I can call the whole of humanity the Children of Venus...”At Lady Venusia’s final words, our rays converge like laser beams towards the Blue Flame radiating from her heart. Our eyes pop open like saucers. What is our Queen implying? But new waves of peace are entering our souls in this moment of revelation, so no further uttering can now escape our lips, nor can doubt of any form dwell on our minds any longer. Because the Truth always makes you forget everything else.
Kassandra’s Diary, 2 January 1993
I am writing this first thing in the morning while I’m still in bed. I’m in the Borders where I’m staying at Gordon’s family house for Hogmanay. He is lying next to me and still sound asleep … his face so handsome in its vulnerability, his muscular body relaxed while his mind is in his dream world. I am wide awake instead, and I didn’t get much sleep last night. It was a fun party and we had plenty to drink. Then we continued our private celebrations in Gordon’s old bedroom, trying to keep quiet not be heard by Mr and Mrs Steward. I thought I would sleep like a log as we certainly burnt a lot of energy in our nocturnal tryst. But no, here I am just a couple of hours later, having just woken up with a great sense of alertness and clarity. And I don’t feel tired at all, but completely alert. I look at my boyfriend and I want to stroke his legs and wait for his morning erection. But stuff is going through my head, and it’s too powerful to ignore. Even Gordon’s body can’t stop me from listening to the information I seem to be retrieving unintentionally and yet relentlessly. It’s impossible to fight this stream of consciousness... Memories of my True Identity are flooding in. I need to capture them before they disappear like faint images from a lovely dream. I am not fully human, or only human to be precise. My life has a higher purpose, though I often tend to forget about it. Throughout my childhood years, I could sense I was being observed and tested. The contents of my mind were never left completely alone. I received messages and instructions, like my mum did, except I heard them clearly and they made sense. Yet this didn’t scare me or cause me any concern. As I child, I didn’t find it particularly odd to keep all this information to myself. I didn’t think that I was being delusional or showing the signs of schizophrenia. I found the process natural; it was simply the outcome of my higher powers being fiercely expressed. My life then had not yet been tarnished by the lies and concerns of adulthood. I wasn’t a normal child from the very beginning. Grown-ups would praise me for my intelligence, my attentiveness, my ability to learn and articulate concepts remarkably well for my very young age. They didn’t know that in actual fact I was acquainted with a lot of things long before life made me experience them. All knowledge was present in my DNA, and I only had to keep an open mind to access it. I taught myself to read and write very early in life, for instance, though my father insisted he was the one who helped me learn. But I deciphered the symbols of the alphabet myself. From a ripe young age, my memory would often be unfazed by the boundaries of time. Knowledge came before experience, and my intelligence and memory were all-embracing.I could even remember the day when I was born. I could re-live it in my mind. There I was, being born! A human being! A girl! It did take me a while to get out of that tunnel, and I didn’t know how to do it. After all, I was experiencing this ‘while’, something that I was utterly unfamiliar with, for the first time, pondering as I was whether I’d made the right decision or not. But everybody in this Galaxy knows that the right decision is the one you’ve made or else! Once you’re in matter, once you materialize, it does take this strange currency called time to change your mind. And time is a traitor sometimes. It makes you forget who you are, why you’re here, who you’re here with, and so on and so forth. So there I was, having been stuck for seventy-two hours, when at last, the full moon my accomplice, the final pull (that was actually my mum’s pushing) took me to the light. Born into sight of this world, into sight of the Earth. I was born on Lovers’ Day, as I had intended, except that my consciousness had shrunk to such a tiny point I couldn’t remember any of this. I was a bundle of confusion, chaos, cells, a bombardment of sensations. In a second I couldn’t remember who I was anymore, let alone the fact that I had decided to incarnate to find my Other Half, my Shadow Self, my Soul Mate, my Alchemical Twin, my Holy Mirror.My physical senses were a novelty. How weird reality seemed through the channels of experience that humans use to approach the world. Reality appeared painful, wobbly! So limited, so different. Fragmented. I felt as if I was the whole of creation squeezed into a tiny form. All I could do was scream my lungs out. The entire Universe was in me, here, howling its shrieks. What I was thinking was “Let go of the pain you’ve just experienced, let go, let go... forget, forget, forget... it’s worth nothing... that’s all there is to it... human... birth... one of the peak experiences to have... don’t cling to it... sure it’s your first and only Earthly life and you want to take your time.... But let go quickly or this pain will squirm through your heart... and squeeze out the memories of your True Identity... sleep, sweet one, sleep...” Pain was easy to let go of way back then, as my body had no previous frame of reference to connect it to. Being human felt like something was missing from the very beginning. It is that ‘something’ I am here to find. The symbolism of human birth is remarkable: separation from the Source is expressed so violently... it hurts so much that we all forget it... Yet we are here to remember... Not an easy game, this life on Earth. Perhaps on some level the human predicament may seem like a pretty, yet sad ‘fairy tale’ type of a story. Hopeless, even. A search for wholeness in a world of separateness. Despite all the necessary difficulties that my human birth entailed, it was impossible for me to forget that I was here because of my choice. I knew that everything and everyone in my life was meant to remind me of me, that life reflected me back, and that the Universe would help me remember completeness again. I had to hold that vision. I was looking at the world through my own eyes. My little life story, as insignificant as it may have seemed to an onlooker, would be informing all of my experience while I was incarnate, whether I was observing it consciously or reacting to it subconsciously. The outcome of the accuracy of my choices could be life as a Star Woman in a human body. The Earth herself was calling out for the birth of the new race I was starting, a race of angels...My long and difficult birth had made me a very aloof child who was often reluctant to take part in mundane activities. I found solace in my own company and shied away from that of other people. I preferred my mind and what it came up with to watching telly. I didn’t listen to other people’s opinions and I often knew before they expressed them that they were biased. I was bright, very bright: my Core-Light was fully switched on. Even in my mother’s womb I could figure things out. I would listen to those muffled conversations beyond ‘the Veil’ of her flesh. I could feel the energy of her surroundings. I could tell changes in her swinging moods and visualize them in different colors. I could even tell what the world around her looked like: I could picture it in my mind without having laid my physical eyes on it. Of course, I recognized the invisible visitors from my early years. And I envisaged that dad would abandon mum and me when I was still a little girl. And that mum would leave me too. I knew right from the inception that there was someone who would never desert me, even though at times he’d want and try to. I’ve not met him in manifest life yet, though his spirit is strongly connected to mine. That someone isn’t Gordon, as much as I try to convince myself otherwise. When my powers grow stronger, I will find the strength to let Gordon go. Not yet though. But soon, I guess, the day will come when I will show the world that there’s so much more to me than meets the eye. From the day I was conceived, I’ve had what they call the gift of prophecy. I call it coming from the future. My purpose in life is calling me to accept my function in the Arkadian Plan. I am not going to fight it anymore. My human side is frightened. I have to let my soul take care of it.
Edinburgh, February 1993: 25th Birthday
The new year had started on the wrong foot for Gordon and me. We argued constantly over the most irrelevant things, such as which restaurants to go to or how to spend our holidays and free time together. The only good thing about it was making up afterward, which meant mind-blowing sex of the type that makes you blush when you think about it the day after. Gordon and I were addicted to each other on the physical plane. And we were both jealous of each other’s power over the members of the opposite gender. Ours was a match made in hell, despite the fact that I was trying to drag it into heaven by squeezing the handsome Mr Steward into my definition of my Soul Mate. When the eve of my twenty-fifth birthday finally arrived, it was shrouded in a cloak of sorrow so heavy I wouldn’t outgrow it for a few months. It wasn’t the passing of time that was my concern. I didn’t feel I was about to get any older. I didn’t believe in aging. Such were the preoccupations of those who didn’t know the Truth. I was afraid of Gordon. I sensed that he was about to brand a scorching mark onto the focus of my attention. My intuition was already sending butterflies in my stomach. He would soon end our relationship so badly, like a coward, choosing the norm against the almost impossible wonders that I’d always hinted at, that I had so lovingly and generously prepared for him. Not that I could tell him the secret that I held. It wasn’t stuff for the uninitiated. But I hadn’t expected his betrayal to hurt me so deeply, and to shake the very foundation of my identity.I had known for a while that he was growing weary of my mysterious ways, I could concede that. But I had hoped that he could continue to be magnetized by my charms and generous sexual know-how. I kept fooling myself in my belief that the promise of another world could wait until the day he could become part of it. But in the end, Gordon didn’t want to play along with me and my dreams. Instead, he chose to become involved with someone else who was older than me and him, and by all means my inferior in intelligence and beauty. What could I expect of him? He was a creature of the Earth, so he let his earthly nature have the best of the Star Seed I had tried to plant in his heart, to no avail. Earlier that night, in a candle-lit restaurant on the Castle Esplanade, I faced up to my fears about my future with Gordon, or the lack of one. I had always dreaded the thought that our relationship wouldn’t last through to the Shift of Paradigm set to culminate in 2012. My most recent concerns, however, had been of a much more human nature. Something had gone very, very wrong. He was cheating on me, I was sure. Having imbibed half a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc to ease my nerves and after a very expensive dinner he was going to pay for, I confronted him. “Are you sleeping with Linda?”He didn’t expect that. His blue eyes turned serious, deep, and then angry. There was a long silence. He didn’t have the courage to look at me as I was talking. Then he excused himself to go to the toilet, leaving me alone at the table with a pale face and my whole world on a cliff hanger. It took him forever to come back, and he seemed angry now. His words were cold and his stare was unfaltering. I guessed he had practiced in the mirror in the gents. Oddly, I found him irresistible. “I only had a one-night stand with her, two months ago. You had your exams and no time for me, and I’m a man... And now she’s pregnant. This is the real headache...”His hands kept folding and unfolding the linen napkin. The blue of his eyes had turned to steel. Responsibility towards others had never been his forte. Now he seemed to lay the blame for his actions on me and Linda. I had heard enough. I could hardly breathe but I tried my best to articulate my words as if I wasn’t hurt. But my heart had almost come to a halt“You’re such an idiot, Gordon.” I almost chocked on my words. “Were you ever going to tell me or did you expect me to find out by other means?” He seemed surprised at my strength, and so was I. Courage is in my stellar nature after all, and it had come to my rescue. I stood up, shot him a cold glance and said: “Don’t even try to follow me.” With dignity and poise, I walked away from him and the pain he’d inflicted. I even gyrated my hips in what I thought was a sexy stride. Luck was on my side and I found a taxi waiting at the rank by St Giles’ Cathedral. I managed some chit-chat with the driver on the way to Piper’s Crescent. The journey only took five minutes at night. When I arrived, I climbed the stairs up to my apartment focusing on my breath not to panic. Once I hit the silence of my room, I broke down in sobs. Gwen and Sam woke up. My body was shaking in misery, uncontrollably. My mind could hardly grasp what had happened. My ego had just brought me down to my knees. I couldn’t fight it any longer: my human side had surrendered to desperation. Gordon had turned me and my love for him down. He had rejected me. I wasn’t wanted, he had preferred someone else. Even if only once, as he maintained. But that was enough to severe our bond forever. He was my enemy now. He had brought Darkness into my heart, he had clouded my mind and my emotions. I didn’t know any of those feelings that were now running down my veins like a flooding river. I was in pain, I was suffering. My throat had started to hurt with all the crying. I hugged my pillow and buried my lovelorn face in it. The light in my room was switched off, just like my connection to the Source. I felt abandoned by Life itself, as if I were falling into an abyss. A cruel male voice was whispering cynical words in my ear. Was it the remnants of Gordon’s ego?“Kassandra, what a fool! The perfect match doesn’t exist, all the love that you feel is just a by-product of madness, of the neediness of the orphan that you are... you have no Twin Soul, no one can make you feel complete, all you will do is long for perfection but you will never achieve it. This is only the beginning of your heartache...”Who was this entity who seemed to rejoice in my sorrow? Why did he want to possess me and fill my soul with the lowest emotions? The thought of death came to my mind in that very moment, but it disappeared quickly. Then a heavy silence came to soothe me all of a sudden.
[continue to Chapter Four: POWER]
January 27, 2014
Chapter Four - "POWER"
FourPOWER
Rescue Visit
The room was dark when we arrived and gathered around Kassandra. She was lying on her bed, fully dressed, with her coat and scarf still on. A few seconds later, her roommates came in and switched the lights on. They sat on her bed and started asking questions. Gwen caressed her back, trying to calm her down. We tried to help our inconsolable friend by sending her positive energy and Light. The cloak of sadness around her heart made it more difficult than usual for us to connect with her.Full communication had become erratic during the past two years, as from around the time she had started dating Gordon. We knew him and his very low, ego-driven frequency. Kassandra was enmeshed in his depleting vibration through the regular act of sex with him. Their relationship had clouded her mind to some considerable extent, but we still managed to communicate with her. We always got through during her meditations. Now she really needed our help or she would lose her way. We couldn’t let her lose the grip on her Star Heart. Our connection, however, was intermittent at best.Gwen and Sam talked to Kassandra for an hour, hugging and reassuring her. The young man in boxer shorts prepared a hot-toddy: to help her sleep. When the pain finally appeared to have eased, they left her room. Kassandra undressed and went to bed. We raised our frequency again, until we eventually got through to her. She started to calm down. Her wailing receded. Her breath began to slow down until it became lighter and she fell asleep. Her powers were safe. Human-chrysalises always become very vulnerable, and life around them seems to fall to pieces, when their time for transformation is approaching. Despite her stellar ancestry, Kassandra was no exception. High time was drawing near. The most difficult part for us was to step back and let her do this on her own. The rules of the Plan are binding even for a soul of her caliber. The room was dark when we arrived and gathered around Kassandra. She was lying on her bed, fully dressed, with her coat and scarf still on. A few seconds later, her roommates came in and switched the lights on. They sat on her bed and started asking questions. Gwen caressed her back, trying to calm her down. We tried to help our inconsolable friend by sending her positive energy and Light. The cloak of sadness around her heart made it more difficult than usual for us to connect with her.Full communication had become erratic during the past two years, as from around the time she had started dating Gordon. We knew him and his very low, ego-driven frequency. Kassandra was enmeshed in his depleting vibration through the regular act of sex with him. Their relationship had clouded her mind to some considerable extent, but we still managed to communicate with her. We always got through during her meditations. Now she really needed our help or she would lose her way. We couldn’t let her lose the grip on her Star Heart. Our connection, however, was intermittent at best. Gwen and Sam talked to Kassandra for an hour, hugging and reassuring her. The young man in boxer shorts prepared a hot-toddy: to help her sleep. When the pain finally appeared to have eased, they left her room. Kassandra undressed and went to bed. We raised our frequency again, until we eventually got through to her. She started to calm down. Her wailing receded. Her breath began to slow down until it became lighter and she fell asleep. Her powers were safe. Human-chrysalises always become very vulnerable, and life around them seems to fall to pieces, when their time for transformation is approaching. Despite her stellar ancestry, Kassandra was no exception. High time was drawing near. The most difficult part for us was to step back and let her do this on her own. The rules of the Plan are binding even for a soul of her caliber.
Aura
I let my heart plunge into that gutter of an emotion. I could have sworn I would be sailing my way through to the destination. Paradise found without flexing a muscle, full stop. Oh no, far from it. I didn’t want to admit that Gordon had been a mistake. For all my so-called powers, I couldn’t let go of the hurt this rejection was generating. Desperate thoughts ran through my head. I’d been tricked by Gordon’s ego. I wanted to believe him when he said that he loved me. Why had I forced myself into such an unfounded tenet? I knew I was wrong, yet why did it take me so much time to find the courage to face up to the truth? It was my all fault, I thought. And now what? My ego proved stronger than I’d expected. In the end, I fell asleep praying to the Universe to send me a sign. It wouldn’t fail me. I needed its help so badly. Restless sleep got the best of my internal chatter. I dreamed that I was being chased. I woke up in a sweat in the middle of the night. Pitch black in the room. Pitch black in my heart. I opened my eyes. The palm of my hand was lying on my pillow next to my face. It was emanating an almost liquid light of blue, purple and yellow: my aura. It was real, like an extension of my body.
My broken heart was showing me that. The cocoon had been pierced. Despite all that was happening on the outside, I was ready. My True Being was quickening and preparing to get out of its chrysalis. My powers had been switched on. Time for transformation. It felt so normal. I watched my reflection in the mirror: the Light stemming from my limbs made me look like a winged woman. I let the beauty of the experience sink in and become one with me. The magic of the moment made me feel drowsy once again. By 3 a.m. I had succumbed to deep slumber.
Birthday Blues
The morning of my twenty-fifth birthday jolted me out of the spell of sleep and into the ice splinters of reality. My alarm woke me up at 6 o’clock as usual. The day was cold. Time hit me like a whip.“Shit!,” I said, “I feel like shit!”Despite the nocturnal occurrence, in the morning I couldn’t care less about auras, evolution and all that airy-fairy stuff. I wanted Gordon. I wanted to have sex with him. I remembered the mess he confessed he had made. I wanted to help him. I wanted to cry again. But my pride didn’t allow me to think about him for longer than a few seconds. I went to the kitchen on automatic pilot and put the kettle on. “Instant coffee and a bowl of porridge will do: there isn’t much to celebrate today...” Confusion still ran unbridled in my soul. I wanted to run away from my destiny. I wanted to forget it all and be normal. I craved an ordinary relationship. I needed to be loved too. I had had enough of my heavy heart and its stupid Key. The tall pine trees in the back garden were shaking at the whim of the blustery wind. I was at one with the weather: beaten and cold. “Happy fucking birthday, Kassandra,” I hissed to myself.Caffeine started to ground me. Sam and Gwen appeared unexpectedly, making such a racket with balloons, champagne and a chocolate cake. It was shortly after 6 in the morning, and yet they managed to organize a birthday do for little broken-hearted me. It was a gallant effort given their predisposition to sleep in and the fact that I’d kept them up until late with my scene the night before. I let my despair melt into the tender hugs of my friends. This moment of flat-sharing bliss only people in their twenties can appreciate lifted my soul and took my mind away from my sorrow, if for a little while. Was I starting to feel better? I was grateful for my friends’ cheer and affection. Their kind gesture was in sheer contrast with my curse: the whole world loved me with the blatant exception of the one man I’d chosen. I had to accept it. I was aware that too much was at stake in my choice of a partner. I had just been reminded of that. I couldn’t even be spared on the eve of my birthday. My destiny had conspired against what had turned out to be a star-crossed affair. Out on a limb, I didn’t know what to do. I could lose my mind over that. I needed protection and help but I was too proud to admit it. I wasn’t as capable and powerful as I thought I was. Ah, the foolish naiveté of my youth.After my birthday breakfast, I decided to go out shopping for my presents. Something was calling me out despite the lousy weather and the sense of despair and loneliness that was playing havoc with my heart. I didn’t want to stay in and chill in my room, sitting by the fire reading a novel, or in the kitchen chatting with my friends. I didn’t fancy journaling either. Longing had taken over. There was a strong yearning inside me that didn’t belong to me. I was trained to recognize signs like this. The Earth wanted me to go out on a walk. She would send me signs and symbols until I would understand the message, the signposts she wanted to deliver. I threw my scarf around my neck and put on a woolly hat, big hiking boots and my favorite coat. I closed the front door behind me and stepped into my birthday storm.I walked down Piper’s Crescent to the Film House. Images from the previous night were back on my mind. I felt as if I was nowhere: as if I didn’t exist and someone or something other than me was calling me into being. I roamed the lands of potentiality as the ghost of someone else’s dream, as the light of someone else’s hope, as a faltering light-beam in the throes of a hurricane. I found myself on Princes Street so I went shopping. It was one of my weaknesses even then. It would nullify my mind for a couple of hours. My aimless wandering continued later. To my surprise, the signs of transformation returned unannounced on that windswept morning in February, on that fateful day consecrated to romantic love. The local human crowd didn’t seem to pay much heed. I was headed for the Old Town. In front of me, the Castle’s lonely silhouette stood out all alone against the ghastly sky, towering somewhat reassuringly as a backdrop to my personal drama. My delicate frame made me struggle against the wind, highlighting its brutality. I shivered in my tweed coat with my turquoise scarf wrapped up to my nose and my eyes staring at the menacing dark clouds above. On days like that, I regretted leaving the warmth of Italy, my country, to follow my destiny on that harsh northern island. I was at my lowest, at my most useless. I went as far as hoping I would die.Preoccupied as I was with those thoughts of despair bouncing in my head, how could I envisage that the Timeless Power was about to fully manifest through me for the first time? Gordon’s betrayal had to be part of the Plan. Throughout my romantic life, love had always worked mysteriously and disappeared in an equally baffling fashion. Burning a hole in my heart every time. Every single hole was my link to the Heart of the Earth. And the Earth was calling me, wooing me, drawing me into my true function. The buses’ headlights shone but a faint ray of hope that I could soon find a canvas to express the knowledge I kept: a mirror for my heart. The gloom of the weather was contagious. I didn’t notice any trace of romance on the High Street. No couples were holding hands and kissing under archways. There wasn’t a smile in sight. Just the guts of umbrellas in waste bins, and passers-by bent over the tortures of their minds. The heavens were cut open by a blustery shower and icy rain was beating up the city. I forced my fairy-like body against the elements with tears now streaming down my cheeks. The cold whirlwind whipped my long curls onto my face. I couldn’t see the way ahead. My olive skin had turned a shade of gray. I looked like a homesick Mediterranean Banshee returning from a shopping spree. “Poor dark sky, ripped open from the inside out, just like my heart... Why did he choose to hurt me? Why did he turn my love down?”My shopping bags flapped from my hands like the wings of a monstrous creature as I crawled against the storm. I was a weary urban ghost struggling along her way past shops decorated with love hearts, champagne flutes and chocolate boxes. They seemed to have popped out of some faraway, happier dimension in their complete oblivion of the weather outside and the moods it generated. I didn’t belong there. So why did I feel at one with the cold Siberian wind that was lashing on the streets? “Devastated, cold and alone. Left in silence without an explanation. What’s the point? What for? And, above all, who for? How could he swap me for some amateur painter whose charms escape me and the rest of the country?”Shivers rattled my bones and made me walk faster. I wanted to spit my anger out and rid myself of that loneliness that haunted me. “This isn’t my true nature. I don’t belong with this sadness. It will pass. A shadowy illusion has entered my mind. I have to be careful. I am the keeper of a secret I am sworn to by my very origin...” I recited a mantra in my head.“I am not a rejected woman. I am not going to fall into the cobweb of illusion spun by my ego. There is certainly much more to me than my heartache.”The flame of my wisdom was faint. That day wasn’t only my birthday, after all: it was also Valentine’s Day. And I was single. Again. I really thought Gordon could learn to love me on my terms. I could teach him and squeeze him into the Plan one day. We still had a good few years to go before the Shift. As it turned out, he was just another temptation on the path. It hurt to know that his blond hair and muscular embrace had gone out of my life into some other woman’s. And a baby would make three. I wasn’t meant for low vibrations. I could only aim high. I wasn’t built to suffer. Yet the situation sucked and my human side sulked. I gave out a sob. “Poor me, nobody seems to notice my sadness through this frenzy of raindrops and blizzards... nobody knows the meaning of Love...” Like a heroine from the silver screen I had combed the Edinburgh streets and roamed its pubs searching for him: the man who could put an end to my yearnings, whose glance would bring me peace and stillness, whose embrace would feel like home, whose encounter would signal the beginning of a process I wasn’t quite sure of but, as adepts had assured me, was written in the stars. It was very easy for me to allure the other sex. I was a lovely-looking woman in my mid-twenties. Men would often stop and do a double take at me. But true love still seemed to elude me.“I’d always returned home carrying only the mere scraps of love: one-night stands, adventures, fun-loving moments. Until the day I met Gordon. I thought that was it, I had found my match. But oh no, far from it: that was the worst of my mistakes, and it has now turned into the biggest heartbreak.”Much more was at stake than simple match-making in my choice of a partner. Special blood flowed in my veins. Yet it meant fuck-all on the morning of my twenty-fifth birthday. Despite all my qualities, I had been discarded and substituted like a flat tire. Where was that retarded true love of mine hiding? Looking for answers, I kept my eyes peeled and all my senses on alert as I trod down the Grassmarket. I hoped Maria-Carmen was at home. I walked past Greyfriars Cemetery. I could sense the echo of old Templar vows, the clanging of swords, the galloping of horses. Promises made and oaths taken there were still palpable in the air I was breathing. The gloom of the place became pervasive. I found it hard to believe in my predicament and honor my fate.
“Is my secret real or just the offspring of a delusional mind? Am I really who they say I am? Do I foster all those powers? How am I to harness them? Does the Dark Side I need to guard myself from really exist? Do I truly have such a central role in the Plan? And why can’t I date a professional golf player and settle for the joys of being a pretty Italian woman in Scotland? Why was I chosen to carry the torch of evolution?”
First Out-of-Time Experience
I missed the turn for Maria-Carmen’s apartment and went past it. By the time I realized I was supposed to head to her place, I was already walking down the Royal Mile close to Holyrood Palace. The Tudor buildings reminded me of my timeless origin. A few people were walking down the street on the other side of the pavement. They looked like characters out of place. Inside me, there was stillness, liquid silence, and the remarkable sensation of space without time that only the initiated can recognize as a sign of connection with higher dimensions. The most life-laden peace came upon me. My devastation became irrelevant. I was at the right space-time junction. My heart acknowledged that. At that moment, time stood still. The world went motionless and soundless. I slipped into eternity. I had switched that experience on myself. I didn’t know how and why. Yet everything and everyone around me froze. Even the rain stopped mid-air, paralyzed in its fall. I touched the surrounding space: dry, weightless, invisible talcum powder. I ran my hands on the wall of the Edinburgh Tolbooth to my left: pleasant texture, like sand. I stroke the face of the middle-aged woman standing opposite me on the pavement. Soft wax. Her scarf fluttering to one side had been seized by this timelessness vacuum and had the consistence of wet jelly.“Don’t touch anything. Be still and listen,” a voice roared from out of nowhere, filling that weird landscape in its entirety. It tinkled like hundreds of crystal bells ringing just for me. Then it turned into the most beautiful harmony. I could finally hear the cells that make up the Earth and its inhabitants vibrate to the sound of the Ancient Tune. Unison. Universe. My heart melted into that reverberation. My being expanded to embrace the whole planet. Love filled every atom. Everything was One Entity. In a fraction of a second, my surroundings and their inhabitants returned to the normality of motion, temperature and texture. I was back in my body but it didn’t feel the same. I felt unbeatable. Incredible. Alive. Sexual. Powerfully excited. Charged. Electric. Buzzing. An amazing sensation. My mobile rang in my bag and grounded me into materiality. “Kassandra?” The gentle voice of the old Englishman fell on my ears like a soothing breeze on a mirror-like mountain lake. “Lord Hughes!!!!” I sounded surprisingly chirpy and happy. “Long time no hear! How are you? How is Lady Hughes? Hello, hello, hello! I’m so glad to be speaking to you!!! You won’t believe what’s happened to me just now. I was about to fall into one of the holes in my heart when...”“My dear girl,” Lord Hughes said, “are you talking to me from a helicopter? What is that deafening noise in the background? Please tell me that my far from perfect hearing is not the reason for that!”He giggled. He had been suffering from tinnitus for years but the condition had not deteriorated. And he’d never once feared losing his hearing. I suspected he’d brought the ‘problem’ on himself, to keep him from listening to all the rubbish that society feeds our ears with on a regular basis. Lord Professor Ralph Hughes, my adoptive father, was incapable of sadness. Or doubt. His frequency was too high, his intelligence far too encompassing and his emotions far too balanced to have the need to feel blue. He was an aeronautics genius and the youngest Nobel laureate to be awarded the prize. He was also a renowned philanthropist and a fabulous friend. I never felt comfortable calling him dad though. I preferred to use his title or his first name.My adoptive parents loved me dearly and they were the most suited for a Star Girl like me. They had an open mind about life and were keen esotericists. They understood my ‘visions’ and were interested in my more Arkadian beliefs regarding my true nature, my powers and the Plan. They considered me eccentric but highly imaginative and intelligent. They were happy with my results at university. But they were also aware that I had never grieved for my parents’ loss, and didn’t know what to make of my remarkable aloofness. They never probed into my life as a result, and contented themselves with the part of it I wanted to share with them.“It’s the Scottish rain, Ralph. And it’s very windy, as usual...”“Poor little flower... find some shelter immediately for the love of Venus... I know what the climate can be like there... and that cruel wind!”I stood under the archway of a close. An army of ghosts ran up and down the stonework. Past, present and future overlapped like the chords of an accordion. I was invincible now. Furthermore, Lord Ralph Waldo Hughes meant protection and joy to me. He was my spiritual mentor. Just talking to him could raise my frequency and make me feel clear and stable. I could picture him on the phone in his study, surrounded by huge bookcases covering the walls and the fragrant mark of knowledge and kindness in the air.“Are you alright now?”, he said. “We are in grand form, petal. And very busy. Indeed, Henrietta is soon to visit the Scottish branch of the Society. We hear from Lydia that you have been a very active member at their meetings, and I am not surprised. Not that there is something for you to learn there, you know. You’re there as a teacher, whether you like it or not.”I tried combing my windswept hair with my fingers. “Don’t worry, Ralph, I’m starting to like it now.”“Nevertheless,” he said, “let me tell you why I’m phoning you now. Of course it’s for the most mundane of excuses: we’d like to wish you a happy birthday, young lady!”I was on top of the world. The burden in my soul had completely lifted and disappeared. The Light of my purpose was shining brightly and resolutely. “Thank you! And please, thank Henrietta as well on my behalf. I miss you both and I’m delighted that I’ll be seeing her up here in Edinburgh very soon. Things are moving fast and the Shift is gaining pace by the minute. Of recent, I had found it hard to remember that the future is certain, that we come from the future. Today started as a strange one. I decided to go on a walkabout and read the signs. But wait until you hear what happened to me!”My mentor had expected that such a wonderful occurrence would take place sooner or later. But my ability to channel the Power on my birthday still impressed him. “I reckon the timing of it has to do with your penchant for drama. Nevertheless, your knowledge of the Secret Language is beyond our best expectations. You were guided to the right place at the right time to get your Power Upgrade, it seems…” When we finally said goodbye, we parted with the promise of meeting soon. We never made precise arrangements. The Plan was in charge of them. As I pressed the stop button on my mobile, the rain came to a halt. The sky turned blue and subsided into two rainbows. That was another sign I needed. The Earth had also obviously heard my request. I dashed back to Maria-Carmen’s flat without getting lost in my thoughts this time. I rang the bell. She leaned out of the window to greet me and opened the door to her apartment. When Maria-Carmen’s partly reconstructed face appeared at the threshold, my pulse began to slow down until it resumed its normal pace. She had the most pacifying effect on me. Her house was a home from home. There I could share the wonders of what had just happened to me with a considerate and knowledgeable ally.“Kassandra, my darling, we were expecting you. Happy birthday!”I entered her house to find that she had prepared a birthday lunch for me. Lydia was there too, smiling and with a book in her lap. A tarot deck was spread out on the coffee table. The two women had been divining the future. Maria-Carmen was Lydia’s mentor. Lydia was Maria-Carmen’s. The former was a beautiful middle-aged woman, maybe fifty, with short black hair, amber-like mestizo complexion and gentle Hispanic features. She was a Brazilian lawyer who lived in Rio for half of the year and worked as a tourist guide in Scotland for the rest. At least that was her ‘public identity’. The two of us had met during a visit to Roslyn Chapel while we were standing under the vaults of that site of ancient knowledge, reading the symbols, mesmerized by the ornate secrets. We both loved that mysterious place. We had engaged in conversation immediately and naturally: we had recognized each other as Star-kin. The Brazilian was softly spoken. She articulated her words with an impeccable ‘stiff upper lip’ English accent. I loved the sound of her voice from the start. She treasured my rebellious wisdom. Through her, I eventually met Lydia. She was from England and had a distinct, down-to-earth south London accent. She was in her late fifties but looked younger in the way overweight people often do. She wasn’t conventionally beautiful but was altogether attractive. Her hair was still naturally blond and thick. Her big blue eyes always looked happy, even when she was tired. She had married a Scotsman twenty-five years previously and had two grown-up children. She had been an active member of the Godhead Society for over a decade at the time of her divorce, clinging to the ancient knowledge as one would to a life jacket in a shipwreck. She met Maria-Carmen at one of the lectures when the former was the guest speaker on the topic of mind control techniques. They since became first inseparable, and then lovers.I took off my shoes. “Can I have a towel to dry my hair, please?”Lydia came over to hug me. “You’re drenched and yet you look stunning: I hate you, Italian woman!”I related the details of my out-of-time exploit over lunch. Later Maria-Carmen read the tarot for me. The Lovers’ card was laid at the center of my spread. She winked at me. “Looks like the time has come for you to meet a valid candidate.”After tea, I left and went to meet some friends for a quick birthday drink in a pub in the Grassmarket. It was 4 o’clock now and it had already got very dark. I rushed through the Cowgate to get to my appointment. I was running half an hour late. I was always a bit ‘challenged’ when it came to time-keeping. Time is a human construct that means nothing to me. That’s why its passage left very few marks on my body. My mates, however, had a different opinion: they thought it was a cultural trait that characterized Southern Europeans, and always expected me to be at least twenty minutes late. It got very cold. As I pulled my scarf over my nose, something flew above me and made me startle. A white dove fluttered its wings only a couple of inches from my right ear, and was joined shortly by a second one on the windowsill of a derelict, abandoned house. They started cooing. Two sacred white doves: what were they doing here in Edinburgh on Valentine’s Day? They are an ancient symbol of weddings because they mate for life; the Earth had sent them my way to remind me that my alchemical marriage was imminent. Who was I going to marry? That would remain shrouded in mystery for a little while longer.Everybody was already in the pub when I arrived. Polly, my closest friend and confidante, knew about me and Gordon. Sam had clued her up.“I hated the guy from day one. He always treated me with contempt and I know he made fun of my braces and glasses. I’m only happy to see the back of him...” I sat down at the table in front of a glass of Bacardi and diet coke they’d already ordered for me. Finally, it was really ‘happy birthday to me’! Sam clicked his glass against mine. “Kassie, your good cheer is a brilliant surprise. Well done for getting over that idiot so quickly!” Polly showed me a flyer that advertised an exhibition due to be staged at a famous art gallery in Glasgow early in April. “We should go along to the opening. Gordon the Fool is going to be there to accompany that Linda Fobbes. She has an installation at the gallery.”A bell rang in my head. “I remember he had mentioned the title of the piece his ‘friend’ Linda, that’s how he’d referred to her, was going to exhibit - ‘Butterflies in a cage’. Ludicrous and predictable or what?” Polly put two fingers down her mouth and pretended to vomit. “We must go. And you must look gorgeous, breath-taking even. Gordon has to realize his loss. Revenge will be sweet.”I was tempted. I would think about it. But this conversation had slipped out of my mind and into oblivion only two hours later. Love and revenge were to be kept on the backburner while I spent the following two months concentrating on my postgraduate dissertation and sharpening my newly acquired Power with the help of the Godhead Society. Those were the days when I learned more about my function in the Arkadian Plan. I discovered that my totem was a blue and red butterfly. Red was the Earth’s color, and blue was the color of Venus. I would often see this beautiful winged visitor flying around me or landing in my immediate environment, at times when my mind was stumbling on fragments of the Truth. I figured out that its presence was a confirmation of my guesswork from the Universe. I didn’t know, of course, that that butterfly was my connection with Arkadia at a time when my emotions would often swing between joy and amazement at my predicament, and a deep sadness and anger for what humanity still was. I was coming of age in my Power. At the same time, while I was vulnerable, the Dark Forces were tightening the web they had been spinning around me. Since they had little hold over every other part of me, they were now aiming for my blossoming but still broken Star Heart.
Rescue Visit
The room was dark when we arrived and gathered around Kassandra. She was lying on her bed, fully dressed, with her coat and scarf still on. A few seconds later, her roommates came in and switched the lights on. They sat on her bed and started asking questions. Gwen caressed her back, trying to calm her down. We tried to help our inconsolable friend by sending her positive energy and Light. The cloak of sadness around her heart made it more difficult than usual for us to connect with her.Full communication had become erratic during the past two years, as from around the time she had started dating Gordon. We knew him and his very low, ego-driven frequency. Kassandra was enmeshed in his depleting vibration through the regular act of sex with him. Their relationship had clouded her mind to some considerable extent, but we still managed to communicate with her. We always got through during her meditations. Now she really needed our help or she would lose her way. We couldn’t let her lose the grip on her Star Heart. Our connection, however, was intermittent at best.Gwen and Sam talked to Kassandra for an hour, hugging and reassuring her. The young man in boxer shorts prepared a hot-toddy: to help her sleep. When the pain finally appeared to have eased, they left her room. Kassandra undressed and went to bed. We raised our frequency again, until we eventually got through to her. She started to calm down. Her wailing receded. Her breath began to slow down until it became lighter and she fell asleep. Her powers were safe. Human-chrysalises always become very vulnerable, and life around them seems to fall to pieces, when their time for transformation is approaching. Despite her stellar ancestry, Kassandra was no exception. High time was drawing near. The most difficult part for us was to step back and let her do this on her own. The rules of the Plan are binding even for a soul of her caliber. The room was dark when we arrived and gathered around Kassandra. She was lying on her bed, fully dressed, with her coat and scarf still on. A few seconds later, her roommates came in and switched the lights on. They sat on her bed and started asking questions. Gwen caressed her back, trying to calm her down. We tried to help our inconsolable friend by sending her positive energy and Light. The cloak of sadness around her heart made it more difficult than usual for us to connect with her.Full communication had become erratic during the past two years, as from around the time she had started dating Gordon. We knew him and his very low, ego-driven frequency. Kassandra was enmeshed in his depleting vibration through the regular act of sex with him. Their relationship had clouded her mind to some considerable extent, but we still managed to communicate with her. We always got through during her meditations. Now she really needed our help or she would lose her way. We couldn’t let her lose the grip on her Star Heart. Our connection, however, was intermittent at best. Gwen and Sam talked to Kassandra for an hour, hugging and reassuring her. The young man in boxer shorts prepared a hot-toddy: to help her sleep. When the pain finally appeared to have eased, they left her room. Kassandra undressed and went to bed. We raised our frequency again, until we eventually got through to her. She started to calm down. Her wailing receded. Her breath began to slow down until it became lighter and she fell asleep. Her powers were safe. Human-chrysalises always become very vulnerable, and life around them seems to fall to pieces, when their time for transformation is approaching. Despite her stellar ancestry, Kassandra was no exception. High time was drawing near. The most difficult part for us was to step back and let her do this on her own. The rules of the Plan are binding even for a soul of her caliber.
Aura
I let my heart plunge into that gutter of an emotion. I could have sworn I would be sailing my way through to the destination. Paradise found without flexing a muscle, full stop. Oh no, far from it. I didn’t want to admit that Gordon had been a mistake. For all my so-called powers, I couldn’t let go of the hurt this rejection was generating. Desperate thoughts ran through my head. I’d been tricked by Gordon’s ego. I wanted to believe him when he said that he loved me. Why had I forced myself into such an unfounded tenet? I knew I was wrong, yet why did it take me so much time to find the courage to face up to the truth? It was my all fault, I thought. And now what? My ego proved stronger than I’d expected. In the end, I fell asleep praying to the Universe to send me a sign. It wouldn’t fail me. I needed its help so badly. Restless sleep got the best of my internal chatter. I dreamed that I was being chased. I woke up in a sweat in the middle of the night. Pitch black in the room. Pitch black in my heart. I opened my eyes. The palm of my hand was lying on my pillow next to my face. It was emanating an almost liquid light of blue, purple and yellow: my aura. It was real, like an extension of my body.
My broken heart was showing me that. The cocoon had been pierced. Despite all that was happening on the outside, I was ready. My True Being was quickening and preparing to get out of its chrysalis. My powers had been switched on. Time for transformation. It felt so normal. I watched my reflection in the mirror: the Light stemming from my limbs made me look like a winged woman. I let the beauty of the experience sink in and become one with me. The magic of the moment made me feel drowsy once again. By 3 a.m. I had succumbed to deep slumber.
Birthday Blues
The morning of my twenty-fifth birthday jolted me out of the spell of sleep and into the ice splinters of reality. My alarm woke me up at 6 o’clock as usual. The day was cold. Time hit me like a whip.“Shit!,” I said, “I feel like shit!”Despite the nocturnal occurrence, in the morning I couldn’t care less about auras, evolution and all that airy-fairy stuff. I wanted Gordon. I wanted to have sex with him. I remembered the mess he confessed he had made. I wanted to help him. I wanted to cry again. But my pride didn’t allow me to think about him for longer than a few seconds. I went to the kitchen on automatic pilot and put the kettle on. “Instant coffee and a bowl of porridge will do: there isn’t much to celebrate today...” Confusion still ran unbridled in my soul. I wanted to run away from my destiny. I wanted to forget it all and be normal. I craved an ordinary relationship. I needed to be loved too. I had had enough of my heavy heart and its stupid Key. The tall pine trees in the back garden were shaking at the whim of the blustery wind. I was at one with the weather: beaten and cold. “Happy fucking birthday, Kassandra,” I hissed to myself.Caffeine started to ground me. Sam and Gwen appeared unexpectedly, making such a racket with balloons, champagne and a chocolate cake. It was shortly after 6 in the morning, and yet they managed to organize a birthday do for little broken-hearted me. It was a gallant effort given their predisposition to sleep in and the fact that I’d kept them up until late with my scene the night before. I let my despair melt into the tender hugs of my friends. This moment of flat-sharing bliss only people in their twenties can appreciate lifted my soul and took my mind away from my sorrow, if for a little while. Was I starting to feel better? I was grateful for my friends’ cheer and affection. Their kind gesture was in sheer contrast with my curse: the whole world loved me with the blatant exception of the one man I’d chosen. I had to accept it. I was aware that too much was at stake in my choice of a partner. I had just been reminded of that. I couldn’t even be spared on the eve of my birthday. My destiny had conspired against what had turned out to be a star-crossed affair. Out on a limb, I didn’t know what to do. I could lose my mind over that. I needed protection and help but I was too proud to admit it. I wasn’t as capable and powerful as I thought I was. Ah, the foolish naiveté of my youth.After my birthday breakfast, I decided to go out shopping for my presents. Something was calling me out despite the lousy weather and the sense of despair and loneliness that was playing havoc with my heart. I didn’t want to stay in and chill in my room, sitting by the fire reading a novel, or in the kitchen chatting with my friends. I didn’t fancy journaling either. Longing had taken over. There was a strong yearning inside me that didn’t belong to me. I was trained to recognize signs like this. The Earth wanted me to go out on a walk. She would send me signs and symbols until I would understand the message, the signposts she wanted to deliver. I threw my scarf around my neck and put on a woolly hat, big hiking boots and my favorite coat. I closed the front door behind me and stepped into my birthday storm.I walked down Piper’s Crescent to the Film House. Images from the previous night were back on my mind. I felt as if I was nowhere: as if I didn’t exist and someone or something other than me was calling me into being. I roamed the lands of potentiality as the ghost of someone else’s dream, as the light of someone else’s hope, as a faltering light-beam in the throes of a hurricane. I found myself on Princes Street so I went shopping. It was one of my weaknesses even then. It would nullify my mind for a couple of hours. My aimless wandering continued later. To my surprise, the signs of transformation returned unannounced on that windswept morning in February, on that fateful day consecrated to romantic love. The local human crowd didn’t seem to pay much heed. I was headed for the Old Town. In front of me, the Castle’s lonely silhouette stood out all alone against the ghastly sky, towering somewhat reassuringly as a backdrop to my personal drama. My delicate frame made me struggle against the wind, highlighting its brutality. I shivered in my tweed coat with my turquoise scarf wrapped up to my nose and my eyes staring at the menacing dark clouds above. On days like that, I regretted leaving the warmth of Italy, my country, to follow my destiny on that harsh northern island. I was at my lowest, at my most useless. I went as far as hoping I would die.Preoccupied as I was with those thoughts of despair bouncing in my head, how could I envisage that the Timeless Power was about to fully manifest through me for the first time? Gordon’s betrayal had to be part of the Plan. Throughout my romantic life, love had always worked mysteriously and disappeared in an equally baffling fashion. Burning a hole in my heart every time. Every single hole was my link to the Heart of the Earth. And the Earth was calling me, wooing me, drawing me into my true function. The buses’ headlights shone but a faint ray of hope that I could soon find a canvas to express the knowledge I kept: a mirror for my heart. The gloom of the weather was contagious. I didn’t notice any trace of romance on the High Street. No couples were holding hands and kissing under archways. There wasn’t a smile in sight. Just the guts of umbrellas in waste bins, and passers-by bent over the tortures of their minds. The heavens were cut open by a blustery shower and icy rain was beating up the city. I forced my fairy-like body against the elements with tears now streaming down my cheeks. The cold whirlwind whipped my long curls onto my face. I couldn’t see the way ahead. My olive skin had turned a shade of gray. I looked like a homesick Mediterranean Banshee returning from a shopping spree. “Poor dark sky, ripped open from the inside out, just like my heart... Why did he choose to hurt me? Why did he turn my love down?”My shopping bags flapped from my hands like the wings of a monstrous creature as I crawled against the storm. I was a weary urban ghost struggling along her way past shops decorated with love hearts, champagne flutes and chocolate boxes. They seemed to have popped out of some faraway, happier dimension in their complete oblivion of the weather outside and the moods it generated. I didn’t belong there. So why did I feel at one with the cold Siberian wind that was lashing on the streets? “Devastated, cold and alone. Left in silence without an explanation. What’s the point? What for? And, above all, who for? How could he swap me for some amateur painter whose charms escape me and the rest of the country?”Shivers rattled my bones and made me walk faster. I wanted to spit my anger out and rid myself of that loneliness that haunted me. “This isn’t my true nature. I don’t belong with this sadness. It will pass. A shadowy illusion has entered my mind. I have to be careful. I am the keeper of a secret I am sworn to by my very origin...” I recited a mantra in my head.“I am not a rejected woman. I am not going to fall into the cobweb of illusion spun by my ego. There is certainly much more to me than my heartache.”The flame of my wisdom was faint. That day wasn’t only my birthday, after all: it was also Valentine’s Day. And I was single. Again. I really thought Gordon could learn to love me on my terms. I could teach him and squeeze him into the Plan one day. We still had a good few years to go before the Shift. As it turned out, he was just another temptation on the path. It hurt to know that his blond hair and muscular embrace had gone out of my life into some other woman’s. And a baby would make three. I wasn’t meant for low vibrations. I could only aim high. I wasn’t built to suffer. Yet the situation sucked and my human side sulked. I gave out a sob. “Poor me, nobody seems to notice my sadness through this frenzy of raindrops and blizzards... nobody knows the meaning of Love...” Like a heroine from the silver screen I had combed the Edinburgh streets and roamed its pubs searching for him: the man who could put an end to my yearnings, whose glance would bring me peace and stillness, whose embrace would feel like home, whose encounter would signal the beginning of a process I wasn’t quite sure of but, as adepts had assured me, was written in the stars. It was very easy for me to allure the other sex. I was a lovely-looking woman in my mid-twenties. Men would often stop and do a double take at me. But true love still seemed to elude me.“I’d always returned home carrying only the mere scraps of love: one-night stands, adventures, fun-loving moments. Until the day I met Gordon. I thought that was it, I had found my match. But oh no, far from it: that was the worst of my mistakes, and it has now turned into the biggest heartbreak.”Much more was at stake than simple match-making in my choice of a partner. Special blood flowed in my veins. Yet it meant fuck-all on the morning of my twenty-fifth birthday. Despite all my qualities, I had been discarded and substituted like a flat tire. Where was that retarded true love of mine hiding? Looking for answers, I kept my eyes peeled and all my senses on alert as I trod down the Grassmarket. I hoped Maria-Carmen was at home. I walked past Greyfriars Cemetery. I could sense the echo of old Templar vows, the clanging of swords, the galloping of horses. Promises made and oaths taken there were still palpable in the air I was breathing. The gloom of the place became pervasive. I found it hard to believe in my predicament and honor my fate.
“Is my secret real or just the offspring of a delusional mind? Am I really who they say I am? Do I foster all those powers? How am I to harness them? Does the Dark Side I need to guard myself from really exist? Do I truly have such a central role in the Plan? And why can’t I date a professional golf player and settle for the joys of being a pretty Italian woman in Scotland? Why was I chosen to carry the torch of evolution?”
First Out-of-Time Experience
I missed the turn for Maria-Carmen’s apartment and went past it. By the time I realized I was supposed to head to her place, I was already walking down the Royal Mile close to Holyrood Palace. The Tudor buildings reminded me of my timeless origin. A few people were walking down the street on the other side of the pavement. They looked like characters out of place. Inside me, there was stillness, liquid silence, and the remarkable sensation of space without time that only the initiated can recognize as a sign of connection with higher dimensions. The most life-laden peace came upon me. My devastation became irrelevant. I was at the right space-time junction. My heart acknowledged that. At that moment, time stood still. The world went motionless and soundless. I slipped into eternity. I had switched that experience on myself. I didn’t know how and why. Yet everything and everyone around me froze. Even the rain stopped mid-air, paralyzed in its fall. I touched the surrounding space: dry, weightless, invisible talcum powder. I ran my hands on the wall of the Edinburgh Tolbooth to my left: pleasant texture, like sand. I stroke the face of the middle-aged woman standing opposite me on the pavement. Soft wax. Her scarf fluttering to one side had been seized by this timelessness vacuum and had the consistence of wet jelly.“Don’t touch anything. Be still and listen,” a voice roared from out of nowhere, filling that weird landscape in its entirety. It tinkled like hundreds of crystal bells ringing just for me. Then it turned into the most beautiful harmony. I could finally hear the cells that make up the Earth and its inhabitants vibrate to the sound of the Ancient Tune. Unison. Universe. My heart melted into that reverberation. My being expanded to embrace the whole planet. Love filled every atom. Everything was One Entity. In a fraction of a second, my surroundings and their inhabitants returned to the normality of motion, temperature and texture. I was back in my body but it didn’t feel the same. I felt unbeatable. Incredible. Alive. Sexual. Powerfully excited. Charged. Electric. Buzzing. An amazing sensation. My mobile rang in my bag and grounded me into materiality. “Kassandra?” The gentle voice of the old Englishman fell on my ears like a soothing breeze on a mirror-like mountain lake. “Lord Hughes!!!!” I sounded surprisingly chirpy and happy. “Long time no hear! How are you? How is Lady Hughes? Hello, hello, hello! I’m so glad to be speaking to you!!! You won’t believe what’s happened to me just now. I was about to fall into one of the holes in my heart when...”“My dear girl,” Lord Hughes said, “are you talking to me from a helicopter? What is that deafening noise in the background? Please tell me that my far from perfect hearing is not the reason for that!”He giggled. He had been suffering from tinnitus for years but the condition had not deteriorated. And he’d never once feared losing his hearing. I suspected he’d brought the ‘problem’ on himself, to keep him from listening to all the rubbish that society feeds our ears with on a regular basis. Lord Professor Ralph Hughes, my adoptive father, was incapable of sadness. Or doubt. His frequency was too high, his intelligence far too encompassing and his emotions far too balanced to have the need to feel blue. He was an aeronautics genius and the youngest Nobel laureate to be awarded the prize. He was also a renowned philanthropist and a fabulous friend. I never felt comfortable calling him dad though. I preferred to use his title or his first name.My adoptive parents loved me dearly and they were the most suited for a Star Girl like me. They had an open mind about life and were keen esotericists. They understood my ‘visions’ and were interested in my more Arkadian beliefs regarding my true nature, my powers and the Plan. They considered me eccentric but highly imaginative and intelligent. They were happy with my results at university. But they were also aware that I had never grieved for my parents’ loss, and didn’t know what to make of my remarkable aloofness. They never probed into my life as a result, and contented themselves with the part of it I wanted to share with them.“It’s the Scottish rain, Ralph. And it’s very windy, as usual...”“Poor little flower... find some shelter immediately for the love of Venus... I know what the climate can be like there... and that cruel wind!”I stood under the archway of a close. An army of ghosts ran up and down the stonework. Past, present and future overlapped like the chords of an accordion. I was invincible now. Furthermore, Lord Ralph Waldo Hughes meant protection and joy to me. He was my spiritual mentor. Just talking to him could raise my frequency and make me feel clear and stable. I could picture him on the phone in his study, surrounded by huge bookcases covering the walls and the fragrant mark of knowledge and kindness in the air.“Are you alright now?”, he said. “We are in grand form, petal. And very busy. Indeed, Henrietta is soon to visit the Scottish branch of the Society. We hear from Lydia that you have been a very active member at their meetings, and I am not surprised. Not that there is something for you to learn there, you know. You’re there as a teacher, whether you like it or not.”I tried combing my windswept hair with my fingers. “Don’t worry, Ralph, I’m starting to like it now.”“Nevertheless,” he said, “let me tell you why I’m phoning you now. Of course it’s for the most mundane of excuses: we’d like to wish you a happy birthday, young lady!”I was on top of the world. The burden in my soul had completely lifted and disappeared. The Light of my purpose was shining brightly and resolutely. “Thank you! And please, thank Henrietta as well on my behalf. I miss you both and I’m delighted that I’ll be seeing her up here in Edinburgh very soon. Things are moving fast and the Shift is gaining pace by the minute. Of recent, I had found it hard to remember that the future is certain, that we come from the future. Today started as a strange one. I decided to go on a walkabout and read the signs. But wait until you hear what happened to me!”My mentor had expected that such a wonderful occurrence would take place sooner or later. But my ability to channel the Power on my birthday still impressed him. “I reckon the timing of it has to do with your penchant for drama. Nevertheless, your knowledge of the Secret Language is beyond our best expectations. You were guided to the right place at the right time to get your Power Upgrade, it seems…” When we finally said goodbye, we parted with the promise of meeting soon. We never made precise arrangements. The Plan was in charge of them. As I pressed the stop button on my mobile, the rain came to a halt. The sky turned blue and subsided into two rainbows. That was another sign I needed. The Earth had also obviously heard my request. I dashed back to Maria-Carmen’s flat without getting lost in my thoughts this time. I rang the bell. She leaned out of the window to greet me and opened the door to her apartment. When Maria-Carmen’s partly reconstructed face appeared at the threshold, my pulse began to slow down until it resumed its normal pace. She had the most pacifying effect on me. Her house was a home from home. There I could share the wonders of what had just happened to me with a considerate and knowledgeable ally.“Kassandra, my darling, we were expecting you. Happy birthday!”I entered her house to find that she had prepared a birthday lunch for me. Lydia was there too, smiling and with a book in her lap. A tarot deck was spread out on the coffee table. The two women had been divining the future. Maria-Carmen was Lydia’s mentor. Lydia was Maria-Carmen’s. The former was a beautiful middle-aged woman, maybe fifty, with short black hair, amber-like mestizo complexion and gentle Hispanic features. She was a Brazilian lawyer who lived in Rio for half of the year and worked as a tourist guide in Scotland for the rest. At least that was her ‘public identity’. The two of us had met during a visit to Roslyn Chapel while we were standing under the vaults of that site of ancient knowledge, reading the symbols, mesmerized by the ornate secrets. We both loved that mysterious place. We had engaged in conversation immediately and naturally: we had recognized each other as Star-kin. The Brazilian was softly spoken. She articulated her words with an impeccable ‘stiff upper lip’ English accent. I loved the sound of her voice from the start. She treasured my rebellious wisdom. Through her, I eventually met Lydia. She was from England and had a distinct, down-to-earth south London accent. She was in her late fifties but looked younger in the way overweight people often do. She wasn’t conventionally beautiful but was altogether attractive. Her hair was still naturally blond and thick. Her big blue eyes always looked happy, even when she was tired. She had married a Scotsman twenty-five years previously and had two grown-up children. She had been an active member of the Godhead Society for over a decade at the time of her divorce, clinging to the ancient knowledge as one would to a life jacket in a shipwreck. She met Maria-Carmen at one of the lectures when the former was the guest speaker on the topic of mind control techniques. They since became first inseparable, and then lovers.I took off my shoes. “Can I have a towel to dry my hair, please?”Lydia came over to hug me. “You’re drenched and yet you look stunning: I hate you, Italian woman!”I related the details of my out-of-time exploit over lunch. Later Maria-Carmen read the tarot for me. The Lovers’ card was laid at the center of my spread. She winked at me. “Looks like the time has come for you to meet a valid candidate.”After tea, I left and went to meet some friends for a quick birthday drink in a pub in the Grassmarket. It was 4 o’clock now and it had already got very dark. I rushed through the Cowgate to get to my appointment. I was running half an hour late. I was always a bit ‘challenged’ when it came to time-keeping. Time is a human construct that means nothing to me. That’s why its passage left very few marks on my body. My mates, however, had a different opinion: they thought it was a cultural trait that characterized Southern Europeans, and always expected me to be at least twenty minutes late. It got very cold. As I pulled my scarf over my nose, something flew above me and made me startle. A white dove fluttered its wings only a couple of inches from my right ear, and was joined shortly by a second one on the windowsill of a derelict, abandoned house. They started cooing. Two sacred white doves: what were they doing here in Edinburgh on Valentine’s Day? They are an ancient symbol of weddings because they mate for life; the Earth had sent them my way to remind me that my alchemical marriage was imminent. Who was I going to marry? That would remain shrouded in mystery for a little while longer.Everybody was already in the pub when I arrived. Polly, my closest friend and confidante, knew about me and Gordon. Sam had clued her up.“I hated the guy from day one. He always treated me with contempt and I know he made fun of my braces and glasses. I’m only happy to see the back of him...” I sat down at the table in front of a glass of Bacardi and diet coke they’d already ordered for me. Finally, it was really ‘happy birthday to me’! Sam clicked his glass against mine. “Kassie, your good cheer is a brilliant surprise. Well done for getting over that idiot so quickly!” Polly showed me a flyer that advertised an exhibition due to be staged at a famous art gallery in Glasgow early in April. “We should go along to the opening. Gordon the Fool is going to be there to accompany that Linda Fobbes. She has an installation at the gallery.”A bell rang in my head. “I remember he had mentioned the title of the piece his ‘friend’ Linda, that’s how he’d referred to her, was going to exhibit - ‘Butterflies in a cage’. Ludicrous and predictable or what?” Polly put two fingers down her mouth and pretended to vomit. “We must go. And you must look gorgeous, breath-taking even. Gordon has to realize his loss. Revenge will be sweet.”I was tempted. I would think about it. But this conversation had slipped out of my mind and into oblivion only two hours later. Love and revenge were to be kept on the backburner while I spent the following two months concentrating on my postgraduate dissertation and sharpening my newly acquired Power with the help of the Godhead Society. Those were the days when I learned more about my function in the Arkadian Plan. I discovered that my totem was a blue and red butterfly. Red was the Earth’s color, and blue was the color of Venus. I would often see this beautiful winged visitor flying around me or landing in my immediate environment, at times when my mind was stumbling on fragments of the Truth. I figured out that its presence was a confirmation of my guesswork from the Universe. I didn’t know, of course, that that butterfly was my connection with Arkadia at a time when my emotions would often swing between joy and amazement at my predicament, and a deep sadness and anger for what humanity still was. I was coming of age in my Power. At the same time, while I was vulnerable, the Dark Forces were tightening the web they had been spinning around me. Since they had little hold over every other part of me, they were now aiming for my blossoming but still broken Star Heart.
January 26, 2014
Chapter Five - "CHILDHOOD"
FiveCHILDHOOD
Kassandra in Italy
From our abodes in the etheric city of Elysia, we, the Arkadian Masters, had always kept a close eye on Kassandra’s developments on Earth. Unbeknown to her, we had been observing her right from the day when she was conceived. She held the Key to kick-start the evolution of human beings into an immortal species. Her stellar heart kept the frequency of unchanging, eternal love. If she could learn to maintain her heart-signature in the face of adversity first, and eventually in a romantic relationship, the constant drone emitted from her Blue Flame, which is the Key, would activate the cells of many humans into evolution. We could detect her frequency easily when she was young and her mind was pure. Her core signature was perfectly sounded in harmony with the Universe’s Ancient Tune, which meant that our girl was capable solely of love, wisdom and bliss.Indeed, Kassandra’s days on Earth had started according to the Plan. The incarnation she had chosen was meant to make her remember her True Identity. She was the Star Woman who was going to act as a midwife in the rebirth of humanity into its higher self. Her memory was so accomplished that she could remember this in any place at all times, consciously or at least subconsciously. To facilitate her progress, we had opted to give her an easy start in life, although her good luck would often be challenged by the Dark Forces. And while it was true that she was programmed to become invincible, that wasn’t necessary the case for the people in her life. She was born into the aristocratic Morgante family in Turin, Northern Italy, on a cold February morning in 1968. Her mother, Laura, was one of the most attractive women that the region had produced in recent decades. She loved power and status. Her father, Count Lorenzo Morgante, was a gentle soul with a sensitive temperament, if somewhat weak. Love was all that mattered to him, despite its impracticalities. Indeed, he had been disowned by his parents the year before Kassandra’s birth. They didn’t approve of his choice of a wife. Nevertheless, he had been left with a sizable estate, much to his calculating wife’s relief. Snow was falling in Piedmont when Laura gone into labor. The Star Girl’s parents had made sure that their baby would open her eyes and lungs to the material world in the best private clinic in the city. A perfect, fat full moon was hanging in the sky, governing the Life Force tides that had made Kassandra’s birth coincide with such an ideal space-time junction. When the time came, the event was broadcast on etheric screens across the Island of Arkadia. Kassandra’s human mother had also timed her child’s conception with great care and according to the esoteric knowledge that she possessed. She wanted her baby to be born at astrologically relevant coordinates. She was sure that her offspring was special. Throughout her pregnancy, Laura’s already sharp psychic abilities had reached previously unchartered heights. She could channel us, her otherworldly visitors, with great ease now. We had clearly informed her that the baby she was carrying was indeed a girl, and a Star Child at that. Laura had immediately thought of calling her baby Kassandra, in honor of the ancient prophetess who had tried to help humanity. This time, this Kassandra’s predictions weren’t doomed to be ignored.
“My baby, you will be different”, the young woman kept saying. “You’re going to bring more Light into this crazy world”.The girl was to be born on Valentine’s day, just like her mother, who was sure that the spirits had been guiding her every step of the way. It had always been like that with her. Her life was in the hands of her superhuman allies. Except that sometimes she wouldn’t get our messages clearly. More dangerously for the Prophecy, and more often than we had hoped for, she would also be guided by the Dark Forces and their Dark Lord. From the moment Laura had met Kassandra’s father at a skiing holiday in the Aosta Valley in 1964, her heart had been set on marrying him. He was rich, which was important. But he was also almost as handsome as the man she believed to be the human embodiment of Lucifer: Mr. Robert Harker, her guru and the leader of the Circle of the Flame, the secret sect that she belonged to. Of course, she couldn’t even fathom seducing the leader: they were kin in the Pact of Light. Lorenzo was the perfect candidate to satisfy her longings for love and the ways of all flesh. Incidentally, the dashing Mr. Harker was an old acquaintance of ours, and we also had been keeping an eye on him for quite some time.When Laura and Lorenzo met, the Count fell for the local beauty on the spot, as all men normally did. He started to pursue her heart relentlessly during that holiday in Courmayeur. He couldn’t get over how stunning she was, a cross between Sofia Loren and Brigitte Bardot, but with the elegance of Grace Kelly and the quirky charm of Audrey Hepburn. She made him think in stereotypes, his mother would say, which wasn’t a good sign in her opinion. Still, he knew that Laura was a combination of the Goddess Archetypes, and could have easily won the contest for the most appropriate representative of the beauty ideal in 1960s Italy. Laura knew how to use her charms to perfection. Being a war orphan, she had had to rely on her physical attractiveness from a very young age to make her stand in the world. By the time she was 21, when she met Lorenzo, she was already one of the beautiful people of Turin. Her face was often in magazines, pictured with her arm firmly clasping that of a wealthy industrialist or a wine producer. Nobility had always attracted her. Why? She knew that she was no ordinary woman, and that she had an incredible ability to make things go the way she wanted. She had made a pact with Lucifer, the Light Carrier - she had given him her soul. In return, she would always get what she wanted. She was after the best life possible, the most intensively active and alluring existence available. When she saw Lorenzo, she knew that she had to marry him and become Countess Morgante. It was a shortcut to more power.When Lorenzo proposed, the Morgantes refused to welcome Laura into their family. They couldn’t believe that their son and heir had opted to tie the knot with a pauper. Rank was all to them. Yet, even without their blessing, the couple married within a year in a small private ceremony. It was 1967, the Summer of Love, when Laura, appropriately, became pregnant. Everything was going exactly as she had intended. The adepts of the Circle of Light insisted that the child was the Chosen One. What they didn’t know was the full scope of Kassandra’s Power, and her True Origin. They only guessed it, if imprecisely. The geographic location of Kassandra’s birth, Turin, had also been carefully chosen by our Arkadian Council. Piedmont’s capital was immediately favored due to the history and mighty energies that characterize the place, known by esoteric adepts as the City of Magic. It stands on the cusp between good and evil, indicated by the small obelisk half-hidden by trees in a square called Piazza Statuto, at the perfect latitude of 45 degrees. Legends recount that, with Prague and Lyon, Turin is one of the corners of a White Magic Triangle. But it is also on the corner of a Black Magic Triangle, alongside London and San Francisco. It is no surprise that one of the most famous fortunetellers of the past, Nostradamus, had once lived just a few hundred meters from the square. Turin’s power stems from the position of the junction on which it rises, on a magnetic axis among Earthly currents. In Roman times, the area where the square now is had witnessed the trial and execution of thousands of criminals, degenerates, and even a few innocent souls. As it lay outside the original walls of the city on the west side, and there were no cemeteries, it was also the place where bodies were often dumped outside the walls in the ancient necropolis. Today, a Gothic fountain rises in the square, at the spot where the gallows once stood, near a manhole covering a series of underground tunnels. The angelic statue at the center may seem innocent enough for the onlooker who lacks in esoteric notion. It represents a lovely angel with a five-pointed star on his head and a feathered pen in his right hand. The angel soars majestically above boulders stacked with several souls, suffering in torment below. Although the monument was supposedly built to commemorate the workers who died while digging the Frejus Tunnel in the Alps, we, the Arkadians, were the true inspiration behind its design. In actual fact, the monument is an allegory of the difficulty with which humankind tries to conquer the True Knowledge, represented by the angel with the star, who is a Venusian like ourselves.
The presence of the star, a symbolic and magical emblem at once, would actually act as a reminder for Kassandra of the purpose of her life on Earth: to make humanity immortal. The fountain is said to hide the “Door to Hell”, and the winged figure on top is seen to be Lucifer, the most beautiful angel who fell to Earth after his rebellion against the Creator. It is an interesting fact that the fountain actually rises on Turin’s contemporary ‘hell’, its sewage system. As symbolized by the statue, every human life does indeed hold the potential to either choose to open the ‘door to hell’ or walk into the Garden of Eden. This depends on the decisions one makes, and how these bring those who make them closer or further away from their True Identity.
Kassandra’s subconscious could use the statue’s symbols at once to remember her True Identity as a Star Woman on Earth, and that the Star Seed in humanity was ready to be born. In its majestic simplicity, the monument encapsulates the Ancient Venusian Prophecy, and indicates that the struggle of humankind could soon be over, once the Star Seed awakens in the human species.We, the Arkadians, don’t have any concept of good and evil because our minds are unified with the Mind of Creation to smaller or greater extents, according to our Ascension Level and Function in the Goddess Games. Humanity, however, still classifies reality in a dichotomous way by categorizing things by opposites, as belonging to the Light or the Darkness. What humans don’t know, and we do, is that anything that happens in the Darkness is not real: it is an illusion projected by the ego. Only the Light is capable of True Creation, of True Experience. The rest are the irrelevant details of the ego’s lies and constructs. Kassandra’s human incarnation meant that the illusion of mortality and suffering would one day soon be wiped off by the evolution that the Star Seeds were to cause on Earth.The girl was born to be the Star Woman who would open such a momentous evolutionary dance. She was a Magic Child because she was a Child of Light, a being who is still perfectly aligned with her Identity as a Thought in the Mind of the Source. Arkadia was happy in those early days of her life.Her childhood was blessed by all the luxuries available to a girl born under affluent circumstances. She was already fluent in French and English as well as her native Italian, like all members of the Morgante family. Her young life was spent between her family’s city apartment in Turin and their country mansion in the Asti region. She had many toys and mates to play with. Her best friend in the city was Letizia, the daughter of her parents’ accountant. And when she was in the countryside, Kassandra would spend most of her time with another aristocratic kid whose parents owned a villa near her parents’. His name was Rufus Hughes, the second child of Lord and Lady Hughes of Sussex, who passed much of their leisure time in the beautiful wine region. Their older daughter, Ruby, was at boarding school in Scotland. While their son was still too young to board, he was tutored at home, just like Kassandra.Our Star Girl loved her English pal. She thought that one day they would marry, just like her mum and dad. By the time Kassandra was four, dad had to spend a lot of time away from the villa. Mum was often sad and mysterious. And when her parents were together, they often argued over something that she could not quite understand. She didn’t worry about it though. She had other things on her mind. Like showing Rufus and Letizia how to speak to the clouds, or feel the loving energy of a kitten, or listen to the stories that the rain could tell her. Her two friends taught that she was funny, and her imagination was wild and irreverent.Lord and Lady Hughes had become very close friends of her mother’s. They shared Laura’s passion for metaphysics. And they always treated Kassandra with great affection and gentleness. She could notice how they always changed the way they spoke, and how they made their words sound sweeter, when they addressed her. She didn’t quite understand why, but she liked it. Mum was becoming less affectionate with her, and more troubled every day. So Kassandra welcomed spending more time with her neighbors. She had a feeling that her parents might decide to separate. Mum would hate that for sure. The young girl had heard her say some crazy words to her dad once.“If you think you can leave me, be very scared, because it’s either life with me ... or death”.Although Kassandra’s heart knew that her parents’ souls were only playing games, the little girl that she was hoped that they would nonetheless stop.
Darkness Strikes, May 1972
Kassandra was four, and she was quite sure that she was the happiest girl in the world. She had recently discovered her favorite past time: reading everything about all forms of life on Earth. She could do that effortlessly and at great speed, and was always surprised that grown-ups thought that she was precocious. She was curious, that was all. And she had invisible friends who had been whispering magical sounds in her ears for as far as she could remember. When she was still three, she had told them that she wanted to learn to read. She had little patience and couldn’t always rely on the adults’ willingness to share some play-time with her. The ‘invisibles’ had shown her the symbol for each letter of the alphabet, projecting images in the air around her. Kassandra had learned them all in one afternoon, and by the following morning she could already read a story from her favorite comic, although a bit slowly. But she was a fast learner, and by the time she was four, not even a year later, she had read her way through many children’s classics. She understood full well that every fairy-tale dealt with the obstacles in the human psyche that hamper the evolution of the human brain. At that young age, however, she couldn’t quite put it into such scientific terms. She had a gut feeling, that’s all. She was already starting to understand that human beings are partial and that she was somewhat different. If anything, she felt and knew that she was a complete, fully evolved and fully functioning human being. And that she was quite unique.That afternoon she was in the Hughes’ rose gardens with Rufus. She was trying to teach her friend how to catch a glimpse of the spirits who lived in the blooming flowers. The trick involved doing a little circular dance and then stopping, keeping very still and staring at the roses in a relaxed manner. The roses, she insisted, wanted to send their guardians, as they called them, to meet the kids. Rufus couldn’t see anything different. The roses were still just roses. Perhaps he didn’t know how to relax properly. Then, all of a sudden, a bolt of jittery energy encircled his body as his mouth erupted into belly laughter by its own volition. Contact was made with the fairies, it seemed. He was surprised.The effect of his encounter with the rose fairies only lasted for a couple of magical seconds. It was interrupted by the arrival of his father who looked concerned and even more serious than normal. The kids turned towards him with puzzled faces. Was he angry at their game? Had they done something that wasn’t allowed? That couldn’t be the case. They always thought that Rufus’s dad was as much of a kid as they were. Something else was the cause of his concern.He greeted them and then went over to Kassandra, picked her up in his arms and kissed her forehead. He then gave her a long, sad look that made her feel that he was very likely hiding something. Then he put her down and proceeded to ruffle Rufus’s hair.“Time for tea, children”. The girl and the boy picked up the dolls and cuddly toys that were scattered on the lawn, and toddled behind Lord Hughes to the courtyard, where Lady Hughes had prepared all sorts of afternoon treats for their stomachs. Kassandra was surprised to see that her mother was no longer there with her friend. Perhaps she had gone to take a nap, after all that crying.“Has mummy gone home?”, Kassandra said.“Your mother had to go to Turin to be with your dad, pet. You are going to spend the night with us until she comes back”, Lady Hughes said. For some reason, Henrietta Hughes couldn’t look the girl in the eye as she was speaking, and kept staring at her feet. Kassandra was even more puzzled now. Dad had stormed off at lunchtime, slamming the door behind him, after another argument with mum. She had heard the sound of his car’s engine in the courtyard, and the heavy silence his sudden departure had left behind. She could feel that her mum’s heart had gone numb, but she couldn’t understand why. Then the Darkness had entered her mum’s mind, and Kassandra felt that the etheric bond between them now ran the risk of becoming severed. She didn’t understand her mother when she was like that. Why had she decided to join her father in Turin after all that racket?“But daddy said he didn’t want to see mummy anymore”, Kassandra said to Lady Hughes, certain that her father was not one to tell lies and, true to his nature, he had really meant his goodbye this time.Lord and Lady Hughes were looking increasingly uncomfortable. Kassandra didn’t mind their tense behavior. She was hungry after all, and in good company anyway. So she winked at Rufus and shifted her attention away from the grown-ups, and onto the slice of apple pie with cream that was staring at her from the plate on the table.In the meantime, Kassandra’s mother was in a car that was speeding on the motorway. Letizia’s dad, who was the Morgantes’ accountant, was driving it. Laura was sobbing uncontrollably, and screaming from time to time.“Come on Carlo, hurry up, Lorenzo needs me by his side. I have to get to the hospital as soon as possible!”The police had been trying to reach her for the entire afternoon. In the end, they only managed to get in touch with their accountant, Carlo Giuliani, who had in turn contacted the Hughes. He guessed that Laura and Kassandra would probably be visiting their neighbors. Then Carlo drove to the Asti villa to collect Laura and take her to the hospital. Lorenzo had been in a car crash. He was in intensive care, Laura was told. She had to be at the hospital as soon as possible, to make important decisions as she was his wife. He was unconscious and in very serious conditions, hanging on the thinnest thread between life and death. Kassandra was meant to be on that crashed car too. Lorenzo wanted to take her away that weekend but his argument with his wife had made him change his plans. Laura felt guilty and in the deepest despair.“Breathe deeply, cara signora. Concentrate on your breath and don’t panic. We’ll be there in 10 minutes.”As soon as they reached the hospital where Lorenzo had been admitted, Laura ran to a phone booth. Carlo was surprised to see that she wasn’t dashing to her husband’s bedside at once.“She must be calling one of her strange friends”, he thought. He could only catch a few words of her conversation before she closed the door of the booth.“Hi, it’s me. Something terrible has happened to my husband. I don’t know what to do...”The handsome man at the other end of the line was sitting in an office decorated with mystical symbols and trophies. He looked at his reflection in the mirror and his lips curved into a half-smile. Perhaps Kassandra was awakening to her True Identity too quickly, he was thinking, for those around her to keep pace. And no, she wasn’t turning her family and friends into the best version of themselves at all, as he had feared she could. Luckily, it was more the opposite – she had ignited her parents’ egos into fireworks.“Be strong, Laura. I’ll be there within an hour”.Back in Arkadia, we, the High Masters, were taken aback by the recent events brought about by the Dark Side. We were not sure if we should intervene as yet. Some among the High Ones worried that the days ahead could bring fear into Kassandra’s still very human heart. This might make her forget her True Identity for some time. Nobody could predict for how long. What effect was her oblivion going to have on Arkadia? Would the Council lose its connection with the little girl? Could she even become vulnerable to the Dark Forces? The influence of the Circle of Light on Kassandra’s mother was already stronger than we had expected. Could its power be stretched to embrace Kassandra at a vulnerable time? Was there anything that we could do to help Lorenzo? Could we change the course of history now?
Some of us wanted to protect Kassandra. Others thought that this challenge would only make her stronger. Kyrius and Venusia, her Star parents, chose not to disclose their feelings and thoughts on the matter, and protected their auras with a special etheric bubble. The Royal Couple understood why the element of surprise had been introduced in the life of Kassandra. It was a way for us Arkadians to learn to return our minds to the One Source and still believe that the Plan was unchangeable, even in the face of very Earthly temptation. Temptation, as the root meaning of the word implies, is simply a time-making mechanism. Arkadia had to accept that time was now required in Kassandra’s human development, as well as this initiation offered by the Darkness. We trusted our girl to remember that only love is real and only love can endure, even when her world was collapsing into debris.
A Metaphysical Bedtime Story, Spring Equinox 1973
Kassandra was five when we visited her one night. She was lying in bed. A beautiful young woman sat on the chair next to her. An onlooker would have immediately guessed that they were mother and daughter, given their likeness and the tenderness of their interaction. The sun had long set and Comet Kahoutek was blazing its trail through the sky. This astral body had opened a gate of Cosmic Consciousness to lead the way for a number of Star-Seeds like her to incarnate on Earth in the five years before and after its appearance. From the Teleportation Room in the Diamond Lodge, we had transferred our Light-Bodies to our girl’s bedroom, where we turned invisible. “Mummy,” Kassandra said, “tell me a story.”Her tired eyes were fighting against sleep and just about winning. The dim light of a revolving mobile cast shapes on the ceiling: butterflies, birds and stars. She loved the stars, this sensitive child. Despite her tender age, she could name many constellations and loved gazing at their light in the nighttime sky. She felt connected to her star-kin. They always made her feel reassured. She knew that she belonged with them. When she was very, very small, her father had told her that she could focus on a star to send her prayers out to the angels, and pass messages on to those she loved. Star-gazing was one of the gifts that he had left her with, before his disappearance about one year to the night of this particular visit of ours to Kassie’s bedroom. She still missed her dad sometimes. His framed photograph was on display on her windowsill, where she kept it when the weather was dry, in the hope that one day soon, like Peter Pan returning from Never Never Land, he would also come back from the eternity he had gone to. She knew that he was never far away from her, although it was impossible to see him now. In the meantime, she had decided that she wouldn’t pay much heed to his absence, unlike her mum who wouldn’t think of anything else. Kassandra had a new friend anyway, one whom she loved dearly, despite the fact that no one else knew of his existence. And indeed, when we arrived in her room that night, we noticed another fuzzy presence, perhaps of partial Star stock given the strong harmonics of his frequency. Even we couldn’t perceive his energy in detail. It was clear, however, that he was somewhat connected to our girl - she called him her invisible friend. But he wasn’t one of us. We couldn’t linger our focus on him because when we contact the third dimension, we have to follow the dictates of the Plan. So we proceeded to attend to our more pressing deed. The bed-time story was about to start now. We had to make sure that this would be the story that the Star Child needed to hear. We gathered behind the woman, Kassandra’s mother, as she opened her mouth to speak. Our thoughts became her voice as she started channeling our words.“Once upon a time, on a night like tonight,” she said, “a colony of pioneering souls was standing in a queue on the Dark Side of the Moon, ready for a big journey. They had come from afar and had been observing the Earth for quite a while, preparing to tune into the destiny of the Blue Planet and make it into Paradise. Sometime soon, the people of the Earth would come face to face with the otherworldliness of these creatures who resembled humans in their appearance, were it not for the fact that their features were much more symmetrical and attractive, and their skin seemed to be flawless. On closer inspection, they looked like immaterial holograms, as if they were computer-generated, three-dimensional projected images devoid of materiality but endowed with all the other characteristics of living beings.At that particular moment, these spirits’ excitement filled the air. The Light that made up their bodies was bubbly in its radiance. The pregnant, heavy stillness of the Earth’s atmosphere was new to them. Beat by beat, pulsation by pulsation, breath by breath, they were trickling closer to the Launcher. They were lost in contemplation, standing as they were on the verge of new territory. The void of potentiality was open wide in front of them. The concept of incarnation was amusing. Before long, it would push them to condense into form, like crystals glistening in the sunshine. They would leave the realm of ideas to become physical entities. They gazed at the azure, yearning Earth. It was calling to them. They could still hear the dim hum of the Ancient Tune. That sound was very familiar. It was their direction. The attraction of matter and the thought of mortality made them shiver for a second (though strictly speaking, they were yet to acquire the concept of time and ‘a second’ meant nothing to them).” Suddenly Kassandra stirred in bed. “These souls... had they always been alive or was there a point in time when they were not?” What an insightful question from the little one.“They were immortal,” we said through her mother’s lips. “And they knew it back then. Their minds weren’t faltering yet. They couldn’t remember anything apart from eternity. At that stage in their adventure, they couldn’t forget that they came from another planet: a different plane that humans, from the Earth’s viewpoint, sometimes call the Morning Star.” Kassandra sighed at the last two words, just like only a Star Girl born to bring our Plan to the Earth could. We had admired how her progress had gone from steady to remarkable throughout her first few years as a human. In the past, she could somewhat detect our forms and the content of our minds. But now she was engaged in a conversation with us, and this was happening whilst her body was still mostly made up of dense, three-dimensional cells that clouded the radiations of her Star Seed. Whilst her mother was a mere channel for our words, the necessary factor in our inter-dimensional communication was Kassandra’s ability to receive our utterances. It was clear to us now that Kassandra understood that the tale she was being told was going in a direction that she was familiar with. She looked reassured and calm. Through Laura’s hands, we caressed her hair as the story went on. “These spirits understood they would not be able to recall their origin any longer, once they entered the Earth’s atmosphere. Right then, however, they still felt at one with their Birth Star, filled as they were by a wholeness that could not be limited by duality or split by gender. They were the One. They were at one with It All. And that was beautiful, and all was beautiful to their eyes.”Kassandra thought that she could see them in her imagination. “They are so pretty...” “Indeed,” we said. “In their place of origin all Beings are perfectly formed and in unity with creation. They are most pleasing to the eye, though comeliness there is not necessarily what humans consider as fetching. It means being harmonious from the inside out. These spirits’ outlines contain bright, reverberating cells that gather around their Cores and project into their radiating shapes. That’s why these disembodied, Light-speckled Beings resonate to the most exquisite of frequencies. The sensation of existence from their point of experience is similar to what humans refer to as love. But unlike the human experience of love, their perception of it is constant, uninterrupted, undivided. Truly, they are made of love.”“I know what it feels like,” Kassandra said, thinking that she was talking to her mother. “Like when I feel so happy because you’re baking a yogurt cake and the sun is shining and the birds are singing and the chamomile flowers smell so sweet!” “That’s exactly it,” we replied. “That’s what being at one with everything is. When all your senses – your sight, your hearing, your bodily processes and mental expectations - merge into a blissful, liquid awareness that revolves around your happy heart. Now let’s go back to these friendly spirits and the place they came from. You should know that the home they left is the realm of what humans call angels. These Beings are Pure Thoughts in the Mind of Creation. Their deeds are perfected to the point that the center of the souls - their Core Signatures - are always following the ever-changing tides of the Life Force. That’s why they are immortal. These spirits resonate harmoniously to the beat of love, the Sound that keeps this Universe together. They don’t perceive themselves as apart from it. Love in this sense feels more like layers of sounds that create a symphony to the trained ear: molecules held together by love, shapes formed by love espoused with intention, entire universes gelled together by the sound of creation, by the Ancient Tune.”By that point in the story, our little friend had given in to deep slumber. It’s remarkable how children can doze off and be sound asleep in a couple of seconds. Perhaps the information we were conveying sounded still a bit too far-fetched, and her young Star brain could only receive it subconsciously. Nevertheless, we continued to relate these memories of Kassandra’s True Origin, since it is our habit to make the most of our points of contact on Earth. And anyway, our words would linger in the room for a few hours, days, months, or even years, until the time would come when Kassandra would be ready to detect them, and embrace the message that they carried for her. “These spirits had gone through all possible levels of the Goddess Games on Venus, their native Morning Star. Now they were ready for a challenge. The Earth and its human inhabitants would provide it, thanks to what was known as the Experience of Matter, or the Illusion of Separation. They were about to split their soul in two, forget about one of the resulting two sparks, and play a sort of ‘hide and seek’ of the True Self, with the Earth as their playground. They kept reassuring themselves that they would remember their True Nature sooner or later, even in the dense plane of human experience. Those who succeeded could try to make a new kind of creature. Their ultimate intention was to incarnate and create a fresh race of higher humans, or human Venusians: perfected human beings made of a special flesh and blood, capable of self-healing and immortality by means of correct choice. The only catch in all of this was that they had to find the right partner, their Twin Soul, and align with them in order to regain their full powers. A handful of adventurous souls before them had started the trend, whereby the physical merge of two human souls who could both hold the Light of the Morning Star had started to create Perfected Beings even on Earth. However, at these point in their adventure, these highly evolved beings waiting for incarnation on the Moon didn’t yet fully grasp what they were really getting themselves into. Success rates so far had been dangerously low. The risk of becoming trapped into matter was real. The peril of forgetting the purpose of their Earth Journey and falling prey to the Wheel of Karma for many lifetimes was high on the cards. “Earth angels” had been few and far between: just a handful every thousand or so Earth years. To make things worse, the outcomes to date had been frequently either very short-lived, or resulting in ascetic human creatures devoid of sexuality. Lucifer was one notorious exception, of course. After all, this ambitious pioneer was the Venusian who had started the Goddess Games on Earth with his famous ‘fall’. He then made his home there and decided to linger on. And now he is a well-established presence on the blue planet, and a very human one at that.Given that the ‘making of an angel’ on Earth was no easy task, much pondering and exploring the concept of ‘life as humans’ had filled these Venusian spirits’ lives, before deciding to give it a try. They hoped that the memory of their original Light – their frequency signatures – would be enough for them to remember that they were actually one imagining to become two as a bit of fun. Matter, however, would prove tricky and sticky. It would provide a completely new experience for which they had no frame of reference. Hopefully, their Venusian ancestry could enable them to have human bodies made of a type of flesh that couldn’t hold on to anything that wasn’t conducive to love, wisdom and bliss for too long. Nevertheless, they understood that the frequency of love on Earth was very sluggish and weak, their physical senses would slow down experience, and the Ancient Tune - the Cosmic Music that holds the threads of Creation in perfect balance - wouldn’t always be detected. They might fall prey to the illusion of separation, and feel lost, confused, alone...Back to the point where these spirits were lining up for incarnation. Among them was one who is at the heart of this story. This playful soul was staring at the Earth, transfixed by surprise and anticipation. So engrossed was she in this new vision that her essence unexpectedly projected itself in space-time, and into the realm of matter. Although briefly, and solely through her perception, this spirit ended up on Earth before having actually entered the Launcher. It is impossible to tell the length of her visit, given that the spirit had not acquired the notion of time yet. Did anyone among the Earth’s inhabitants notice this fleeting visitation? Did her presence on the planet leave a mark, or an imprint? Did it change someone’s life? And if so, how? Someone was bound to have sensed this unusual, higher presence. In this uncharted territory, a weird sensation of incompleteness crept in from the outside and into the spirit’s mind. As she scanned the new surroundings, she realized something was missing. This made the curious, disembodied visitor want to loiter on for a while longer. She felt compelled to set out searching for the absent element, finding novel trepidation and a new sense of pleasure in tuning into the alien environs. It was becoming obvious to the visitor that in this new place, perfection wasn’t expressed in stillness but in action: through flowing, becoming, evolving. How totally different an experience this was from what life had presented her with, up until then...Right before the experience could sink in properly, and in the blink of an eye (figuratively speaking), this solitary, adventurous spirit was pulled back to the queue on the Moon. Perhaps nobody had noticed her brief absence, she hoped. Then the air turned red and vibrant: high time was approaching. This and the other fellow spirits increased their frequencies. Their orchestral sound turned deeper, like a drone. The tempo of their Core pulsations quickened. All that these ground-breaking souls wanted to do was to surrender to the pull of matter, and follow the change in their frequency signature. After eons of calmness, the moment had come for them to fall temporarily asleep, and wait for the Big Wave to cut them in two.At last, they reached and entered the Launcher. Their Cores dissipated into time-fueled semi-oblivion. Their Light became squashed and compressed into an egg, and off they went to Earth. So this how the story ends. Just as another one begins.”Having accomplished our mission, we left the room and returned to Arkadia, elsewhere in space and out of time.Kassandra stirred. “Mummy?,” she said. “Goodnight...”Her mother awoke suddenly. She had fallen asleep in her chair. Antidepressants would often make her do that. At least she had not been crying that day. She sat on Kassandra’s bed, removed an unruly brown curl from the child’s eyes and placed the whisper of a kiss on her forehead. They smiled at each other.“Goodnight, Kassie, sweet dreams.” The little girl fell asleep again, right away. She dreamed that she was running with other children on a meadow in bloom, without a care in the world. A part of her was still like any other child after all.
Kassandra in Italy
From our abodes in the etheric city of Elysia, we, the Arkadian Masters, had always kept a close eye on Kassandra’s developments on Earth. Unbeknown to her, we had been observing her right from the day when she was conceived. She held the Key to kick-start the evolution of human beings into an immortal species. Her stellar heart kept the frequency of unchanging, eternal love. If she could learn to maintain her heart-signature in the face of adversity first, and eventually in a romantic relationship, the constant drone emitted from her Blue Flame, which is the Key, would activate the cells of many humans into evolution. We could detect her frequency easily when she was young and her mind was pure. Her core signature was perfectly sounded in harmony with the Universe’s Ancient Tune, which meant that our girl was capable solely of love, wisdom and bliss.Indeed, Kassandra’s days on Earth had started according to the Plan. The incarnation she had chosen was meant to make her remember her True Identity. She was the Star Woman who was going to act as a midwife in the rebirth of humanity into its higher self. Her memory was so accomplished that she could remember this in any place at all times, consciously or at least subconsciously. To facilitate her progress, we had opted to give her an easy start in life, although her good luck would often be challenged by the Dark Forces. And while it was true that she was programmed to become invincible, that wasn’t necessary the case for the people in her life. She was born into the aristocratic Morgante family in Turin, Northern Italy, on a cold February morning in 1968. Her mother, Laura, was one of the most attractive women that the region had produced in recent decades. She loved power and status. Her father, Count Lorenzo Morgante, was a gentle soul with a sensitive temperament, if somewhat weak. Love was all that mattered to him, despite its impracticalities. Indeed, he had been disowned by his parents the year before Kassandra’s birth. They didn’t approve of his choice of a wife. Nevertheless, he had been left with a sizable estate, much to his calculating wife’s relief. Snow was falling in Piedmont when Laura gone into labor. The Star Girl’s parents had made sure that their baby would open her eyes and lungs to the material world in the best private clinic in the city. A perfect, fat full moon was hanging in the sky, governing the Life Force tides that had made Kassandra’s birth coincide with such an ideal space-time junction. When the time came, the event was broadcast on etheric screens across the Island of Arkadia. Kassandra’s human mother had also timed her child’s conception with great care and according to the esoteric knowledge that she possessed. She wanted her baby to be born at astrologically relevant coordinates. She was sure that her offspring was special. Throughout her pregnancy, Laura’s already sharp psychic abilities had reached previously unchartered heights. She could channel us, her otherworldly visitors, with great ease now. We had clearly informed her that the baby she was carrying was indeed a girl, and a Star Child at that. Laura had immediately thought of calling her baby Kassandra, in honor of the ancient prophetess who had tried to help humanity. This time, this Kassandra’s predictions weren’t doomed to be ignored.
“My baby, you will be different”, the young woman kept saying. “You’re going to bring more Light into this crazy world”.The girl was to be born on Valentine’s day, just like her mother, who was sure that the spirits had been guiding her every step of the way. It had always been like that with her. Her life was in the hands of her superhuman allies. Except that sometimes she wouldn’t get our messages clearly. More dangerously for the Prophecy, and more often than we had hoped for, she would also be guided by the Dark Forces and their Dark Lord. From the moment Laura had met Kassandra’s father at a skiing holiday in the Aosta Valley in 1964, her heart had been set on marrying him. He was rich, which was important. But he was also almost as handsome as the man she believed to be the human embodiment of Lucifer: Mr. Robert Harker, her guru and the leader of the Circle of the Flame, the secret sect that she belonged to. Of course, she couldn’t even fathom seducing the leader: they were kin in the Pact of Light. Lorenzo was the perfect candidate to satisfy her longings for love and the ways of all flesh. Incidentally, the dashing Mr. Harker was an old acquaintance of ours, and we also had been keeping an eye on him for quite some time.When Laura and Lorenzo met, the Count fell for the local beauty on the spot, as all men normally did. He started to pursue her heart relentlessly during that holiday in Courmayeur. He couldn’t get over how stunning she was, a cross between Sofia Loren and Brigitte Bardot, but with the elegance of Grace Kelly and the quirky charm of Audrey Hepburn. She made him think in stereotypes, his mother would say, which wasn’t a good sign in her opinion. Still, he knew that Laura was a combination of the Goddess Archetypes, and could have easily won the contest for the most appropriate representative of the beauty ideal in 1960s Italy. Laura knew how to use her charms to perfection. Being a war orphan, she had had to rely on her physical attractiveness from a very young age to make her stand in the world. By the time she was 21, when she met Lorenzo, she was already one of the beautiful people of Turin. Her face was often in magazines, pictured with her arm firmly clasping that of a wealthy industrialist or a wine producer. Nobility had always attracted her. Why? She knew that she was no ordinary woman, and that she had an incredible ability to make things go the way she wanted. She had made a pact with Lucifer, the Light Carrier - she had given him her soul. In return, she would always get what she wanted. She was after the best life possible, the most intensively active and alluring existence available. When she saw Lorenzo, she knew that she had to marry him and become Countess Morgante. It was a shortcut to more power.When Lorenzo proposed, the Morgantes refused to welcome Laura into their family. They couldn’t believe that their son and heir had opted to tie the knot with a pauper. Rank was all to them. Yet, even without their blessing, the couple married within a year in a small private ceremony. It was 1967, the Summer of Love, when Laura, appropriately, became pregnant. Everything was going exactly as she had intended. The adepts of the Circle of Light insisted that the child was the Chosen One. What they didn’t know was the full scope of Kassandra’s Power, and her True Origin. They only guessed it, if imprecisely. The geographic location of Kassandra’s birth, Turin, had also been carefully chosen by our Arkadian Council. Piedmont’s capital was immediately favored due to the history and mighty energies that characterize the place, known by esoteric adepts as the City of Magic. It stands on the cusp between good and evil, indicated by the small obelisk half-hidden by trees in a square called Piazza Statuto, at the perfect latitude of 45 degrees. Legends recount that, with Prague and Lyon, Turin is one of the corners of a White Magic Triangle. But it is also on the corner of a Black Magic Triangle, alongside London and San Francisco. It is no surprise that one of the most famous fortunetellers of the past, Nostradamus, had once lived just a few hundred meters from the square. Turin’s power stems from the position of the junction on which it rises, on a magnetic axis among Earthly currents. In Roman times, the area where the square now is had witnessed the trial and execution of thousands of criminals, degenerates, and even a few innocent souls. As it lay outside the original walls of the city on the west side, and there were no cemeteries, it was also the place where bodies were often dumped outside the walls in the ancient necropolis. Today, a Gothic fountain rises in the square, at the spot where the gallows once stood, near a manhole covering a series of underground tunnels. The angelic statue at the center may seem innocent enough for the onlooker who lacks in esoteric notion. It represents a lovely angel with a five-pointed star on his head and a feathered pen in his right hand. The angel soars majestically above boulders stacked with several souls, suffering in torment below. Although the monument was supposedly built to commemorate the workers who died while digging the Frejus Tunnel in the Alps, we, the Arkadians, were the true inspiration behind its design. In actual fact, the monument is an allegory of the difficulty with which humankind tries to conquer the True Knowledge, represented by the angel with the star, who is a Venusian like ourselves.
The presence of the star, a symbolic and magical emblem at once, would actually act as a reminder for Kassandra of the purpose of her life on Earth: to make humanity immortal. The fountain is said to hide the “Door to Hell”, and the winged figure on top is seen to be Lucifer, the most beautiful angel who fell to Earth after his rebellion against the Creator. It is an interesting fact that the fountain actually rises on Turin’s contemporary ‘hell’, its sewage system. As symbolized by the statue, every human life does indeed hold the potential to either choose to open the ‘door to hell’ or walk into the Garden of Eden. This depends on the decisions one makes, and how these bring those who make them closer or further away from their True Identity.
Kassandra’s subconscious could use the statue’s symbols at once to remember her True Identity as a Star Woman on Earth, and that the Star Seed in humanity was ready to be born. In its majestic simplicity, the monument encapsulates the Ancient Venusian Prophecy, and indicates that the struggle of humankind could soon be over, once the Star Seed awakens in the human species.We, the Arkadians, don’t have any concept of good and evil because our minds are unified with the Mind of Creation to smaller or greater extents, according to our Ascension Level and Function in the Goddess Games. Humanity, however, still classifies reality in a dichotomous way by categorizing things by opposites, as belonging to the Light or the Darkness. What humans don’t know, and we do, is that anything that happens in the Darkness is not real: it is an illusion projected by the ego. Only the Light is capable of True Creation, of True Experience. The rest are the irrelevant details of the ego’s lies and constructs. Kassandra’s human incarnation meant that the illusion of mortality and suffering would one day soon be wiped off by the evolution that the Star Seeds were to cause on Earth.The girl was born to be the Star Woman who would open such a momentous evolutionary dance. She was a Magic Child because she was a Child of Light, a being who is still perfectly aligned with her Identity as a Thought in the Mind of the Source. Arkadia was happy in those early days of her life.Her childhood was blessed by all the luxuries available to a girl born under affluent circumstances. She was already fluent in French and English as well as her native Italian, like all members of the Morgante family. Her young life was spent between her family’s city apartment in Turin and their country mansion in the Asti region. She had many toys and mates to play with. Her best friend in the city was Letizia, the daughter of her parents’ accountant. And when she was in the countryside, Kassandra would spend most of her time with another aristocratic kid whose parents owned a villa near her parents’. His name was Rufus Hughes, the second child of Lord and Lady Hughes of Sussex, who passed much of their leisure time in the beautiful wine region. Their older daughter, Ruby, was at boarding school in Scotland. While their son was still too young to board, he was tutored at home, just like Kassandra.Our Star Girl loved her English pal. She thought that one day they would marry, just like her mum and dad. By the time Kassandra was four, dad had to spend a lot of time away from the villa. Mum was often sad and mysterious. And when her parents were together, they often argued over something that she could not quite understand. She didn’t worry about it though. She had other things on her mind. Like showing Rufus and Letizia how to speak to the clouds, or feel the loving energy of a kitten, or listen to the stories that the rain could tell her. Her two friends taught that she was funny, and her imagination was wild and irreverent.Lord and Lady Hughes had become very close friends of her mother’s. They shared Laura’s passion for metaphysics. And they always treated Kassandra with great affection and gentleness. She could notice how they always changed the way they spoke, and how they made their words sound sweeter, when they addressed her. She didn’t quite understand why, but she liked it. Mum was becoming less affectionate with her, and more troubled every day. So Kassandra welcomed spending more time with her neighbors. She had a feeling that her parents might decide to separate. Mum would hate that for sure. The young girl had heard her say some crazy words to her dad once.“If you think you can leave me, be very scared, because it’s either life with me ... or death”.Although Kassandra’s heart knew that her parents’ souls were only playing games, the little girl that she was hoped that they would nonetheless stop.
Darkness Strikes, May 1972
Kassandra was four, and she was quite sure that she was the happiest girl in the world. She had recently discovered her favorite past time: reading everything about all forms of life on Earth. She could do that effortlessly and at great speed, and was always surprised that grown-ups thought that she was precocious. She was curious, that was all. And she had invisible friends who had been whispering magical sounds in her ears for as far as she could remember. When she was still three, she had told them that she wanted to learn to read. She had little patience and couldn’t always rely on the adults’ willingness to share some play-time with her. The ‘invisibles’ had shown her the symbol for each letter of the alphabet, projecting images in the air around her. Kassandra had learned them all in one afternoon, and by the following morning she could already read a story from her favorite comic, although a bit slowly. But she was a fast learner, and by the time she was four, not even a year later, she had read her way through many children’s classics. She understood full well that every fairy-tale dealt with the obstacles in the human psyche that hamper the evolution of the human brain. At that young age, however, she couldn’t quite put it into such scientific terms. She had a gut feeling, that’s all. She was already starting to understand that human beings are partial and that she was somewhat different. If anything, she felt and knew that she was a complete, fully evolved and fully functioning human being. And that she was quite unique.That afternoon she was in the Hughes’ rose gardens with Rufus. She was trying to teach her friend how to catch a glimpse of the spirits who lived in the blooming flowers. The trick involved doing a little circular dance and then stopping, keeping very still and staring at the roses in a relaxed manner. The roses, she insisted, wanted to send their guardians, as they called them, to meet the kids. Rufus couldn’t see anything different. The roses were still just roses. Perhaps he didn’t know how to relax properly. Then, all of a sudden, a bolt of jittery energy encircled his body as his mouth erupted into belly laughter by its own volition. Contact was made with the fairies, it seemed. He was surprised.The effect of his encounter with the rose fairies only lasted for a couple of magical seconds. It was interrupted by the arrival of his father who looked concerned and even more serious than normal. The kids turned towards him with puzzled faces. Was he angry at their game? Had they done something that wasn’t allowed? That couldn’t be the case. They always thought that Rufus’s dad was as much of a kid as they were. Something else was the cause of his concern.He greeted them and then went over to Kassandra, picked her up in his arms and kissed her forehead. He then gave her a long, sad look that made her feel that he was very likely hiding something. Then he put her down and proceeded to ruffle Rufus’s hair.“Time for tea, children”. The girl and the boy picked up the dolls and cuddly toys that were scattered on the lawn, and toddled behind Lord Hughes to the courtyard, where Lady Hughes had prepared all sorts of afternoon treats for their stomachs. Kassandra was surprised to see that her mother was no longer there with her friend. Perhaps she had gone to take a nap, after all that crying.“Has mummy gone home?”, Kassandra said.“Your mother had to go to Turin to be with your dad, pet. You are going to spend the night with us until she comes back”, Lady Hughes said. For some reason, Henrietta Hughes couldn’t look the girl in the eye as she was speaking, and kept staring at her feet. Kassandra was even more puzzled now. Dad had stormed off at lunchtime, slamming the door behind him, after another argument with mum. She had heard the sound of his car’s engine in the courtyard, and the heavy silence his sudden departure had left behind. She could feel that her mum’s heart had gone numb, but she couldn’t understand why. Then the Darkness had entered her mum’s mind, and Kassandra felt that the etheric bond between them now ran the risk of becoming severed. She didn’t understand her mother when she was like that. Why had she decided to join her father in Turin after all that racket?“But daddy said he didn’t want to see mummy anymore”, Kassandra said to Lady Hughes, certain that her father was not one to tell lies and, true to his nature, he had really meant his goodbye this time.Lord and Lady Hughes were looking increasingly uncomfortable. Kassandra didn’t mind their tense behavior. She was hungry after all, and in good company anyway. So she winked at Rufus and shifted her attention away from the grown-ups, and onto the slice of apple pie with cream that was staring at her from the plate on the table.In the meantime, Kassandra’s mother was in a car that was speeding on the motorway. Letizia’s dad, who was the Morgantes’ accountant, was driving it. Laura was sobbing uncontrollably, and screaming from time to time.“Come on Carlo, hurry up, Lorenzo needs me by his side. I have to get to the hospital as soon as possible!”The police had been trying to reach her for the entire afternoon. In the end, they only managed to get in touch with their accountant, Carlo Giuliani, who had in turn contacted the Hughes. He guessed that Laura and Kassandra would probably be visiting their neighbors. Then Carlo drove to the Asti villa to collect Laura and take her to the hospital. Lorenzo had been in a car crash. He was in intensive care, Laura was told. She had to be at the hospital as soon as possible, to make important decisions as she was his wife. He was unconscious and in very serious conditions, hanging on the thinnest thread between life and death. Kassandra was meant to be on that crashed car too. Lorenzo wanted to take her away that weekend but his argument with his wife had made him change his plans. Laura felt guilty and in the deepest despair.“Breathe deeply, cara signora. Concentrate on your breath and don’t panic. We’ll be there in 10 minutes.”As soon as they reached the hospital where Lorenzo had been admitted, Laura ran to a phone booth. Carlo was surprised to see that she wasn’t dashing to her husband’s bedside at once.“She must be calling one of her strange friends”, he thought. He could only catch a few words of her conversation before she closed the door of the booth.“Hi, it’s me. Something terrible has happened to my husband. I don’t know what to do...”The handsome man at the other end of the line was sitting in an office decorated with mystical symbols and trophies. He looked at his reflection in the mirror and his lips curved into a half-smile. Perhaps Kassandra was awakening to her True Identity too quickly, he was thinking, for those around her to keep pace. And no, she wasn’t turning her family and friends into the best version of themselves at all, as he had feared she could. Luckily, it was more the opposite – she had ignited her parents’ egos into fireworks.“Be strong, Laura. I’ll be there within an hour”.Back in Arkadia, we, the High Masters, were taken aback by the recent events brought about by the Dark Side. We were not sure if we should intervene as yet. Some among the High Ones worried that the days ahead could bring fear into Kassandra’s still very human heart. This might make her forget her True Identity for some time. Nobody could predict for how long. What effect was her oblivion going to have on Arkadia? Would the Council lose its connection with the little girl? Could she even become vulnerable to the Dark Forces? The influence of the Circle of Light on Kassandra’s mother was already stronger than we had expected. Could its power be stretched to embrace Kassandra at a vulnerable time? Was there anything that we could do to help Lorenzo? Could we change the course of history now?
Some of us wanted to protect Kassandra. Others thought that this challenge would only make her stronger. Kyrius and Venusia, her Star parents, chose not to disclose their feelings and thoughts on the matter, and protected their auras with a special etheric bubble. The Royal Couple understood why the element of surprise had been introduced in the life of Kassandra. It was a way for us Arkadians to learn to return our minds to the One Source and still believe that the Plan was unchangeable, even in the face of very Earthly temptation. Temptation, as the root meaning of the word implies, is simply a time-making mechanism. Arkadia had to accept that time was now required in Kassandra’s human development, as well as this initiation offered by the Darkness. We trusted our girl to remember that only love is real and only love can endure, even when her world was collapsing into debris.
A Metaphysical Bedtime Story, Spring Equinox 1973
Kassandra was five when we visited her one night. She was lying in bed. A beautiful young woman sat on the chair next to her. An onlooker would have immediately guessed that they were mother and daughter, given their likeness and the tenderness of their interaction. The sun had long set and Comet Kahoutek was blazing its trail through the sky. This astral body had opened a gate of Cosmic Consciousness to lead the way for a number of Star-Seeds like her to incarnate on Earth in the five years before and after its appearance. From the Teleportation Room in the Diamond Lodge, we had transferred our Light-Bodies to our girl’s bedroom, where we turned invisible. “Mummy,” Kassandra said, “tell me a story.”Her tired eyes were fighting against sleep and just about winning. The dim light of a revolving mobile cast shapes on the ceiling: butterflies, birds and stars. She loved the stars, this sensitive child. Despite her tender age, she could name many constellations and loved gazing at their light in the nighttime sky. She felt connected to her star-kin. They always made her feel reassured. She knew that she belonged with them. When she was very, very small, her father had told her that she could focus on a star to send her prayers out to the angels, and pass messages on to those she loved. Star-gazing was one of the gifts that he had left her with, before his disappearance about one year to the night of this particular visit of ours to Kassie’s bedroom. She still missed her dad sometimes. His framed photograph was on display on her windowsill, where she kept it when the weather was dry, in the hope that one day soon, like Peter Pan returning from Never Never Land, he would also come back from the eternity he had gone to. She knew that he was never far away from her, although it was impossible to see him now. In the meantime, she had decided that she wouldn’t pay much heed to his absence, unlike her mum who wouldn’t think of anything else. Kassandra had a new friend anyway, one whom she loved dearly, despite the fact that no one else knew of his existence. And indeed, when we arrived in her room that night, we noticed another fuzzy presence, perhaps of partial Star stock given the strong harmonics of his frequency. Even we couldn’t perceive his energy in detail. It was clear, however, that he was somewhat connected to our girl - she called him her invisible friend. But he wasn’t one of us. We couldn’t linger our focus on him because when we contact the third dimension, we have to follow the dictates of the Plan. So we proceeded to attend to our more pressing deed. The bed-time story was about to start now. We had to make sure that this would be the story that the Star Child needed to hear. We gathered behind the woman, Kassandra’s mother, as she opened her mouth to speak. Our thoughts became her voice as she started channeling our words.“Once upon a time, on a night like tonight,” she said, “a colony of pioneering souls was standing in a queue on the Dark Side of the Moon, ready for a big journey. They had come from afar and had been observing the Earth for quite a while, preparing to tune into the destiny of the Blue Planet and make it into Paradise. Sometime soon, the people of the Earth would come face to face with the otherworldliness of these creatures who resembled humans in their appearance, were it not for the fact that their features were much more symmetrical and attractive, and their skin seemed to be flawless. On closer inspection, they looked like immaterial holograms, as if they were computer-generated, three-dimensional projected images devoid of materiality but endowed with all the other characteristics of living beings.At that particular moment, these spirits’ excitement filled the air. The Light that made up their bodies was bubbly in its radiance. The pregnant, heavy stillness of the Earth’s atmosphere was new to them. Beat by beat, pulsation by pulsation, breath by breath, they were trickling closer to the Launcher. They were lost in contemplation, standing as they were on the verge of new territory. The void of potentiality was open wide in front of them. The concept of incarnation was amusing. Before long, it would push them to condense into form, like crystals glistening in the sunshine. They would leave the realm of ideas to become physical entities. They gazed at the azure, yearning Earth. It was calling to them. They could still hear the dim hum of the Ancient Tune. That sound was very familiar. It was their direction. The attraction of matter and the thought of mortality made them shiver for a second (though strictly speaking, they were yet to acquire the concept of time and ‘a second’ meant nothing to them).” Suddenly Kassandra stirred in bed. “These souls... had they always been alive or was there a point in time when they were not?” What an insightful question from the little one.“They were immortal,” we said through her mother’s lips. “And they knew it back then. Their minds weren’t faltering yet. They couldn’t remember anything apart from eternity. At that stage in their adventure, they couldn’t forget that they came from another planet: a different plane that humans, from the Earth’s viewpoint, sometimes call the Morning Star.” Kassandra sighed at the last two words, just like only a Star Girl born to bring our Plan to the Earth could. We had admired how her progress had gone from steady to remarkable throughout her first few years as a human. In the past, she could somewhat detect our forms and the content of our minds. But now she was engaged in a conversation with us, and this was happening whilst her body was still mostly made up of dense, three-dimensional cells that clouded the radiations of her Star Seed. Whilst her mother was a mere channel for our words, the necessary factor in our inter-dimensional communication was Kassandra’s ability to receive our utterances. It was clear to us now that Kassandra understood that the tale she was being told was going in a direction that she was familiar with. She looked reassured and calm. Through Laura’s hands, we caressed her hair as the story went on. “These spirits understood they would not be able to recall their origin any longer, once they entered the Earth’s atmosphere. Right then, however, they still felt at one with their Birth Star, filled as they were by a wholeness that could not be limited by duality or split by gender. They were the One. They were at one with It All. And that was beautiful, and all was beautiful to their eyes.”Kassandra thought that she could see them in her imagination. “They are so pretty...” “Indeed,” we said. “In their place of origin all Beings are perfectly formed and in unity with creation. They are most pleasing to the eye, though comeliness there is not necessarily what humans consider as fetching. It means being harmonious from the inside out. These spirits’ outlines contain bright, reverberating cells that gather around their Cores and project into their radiating shapes. That’s why these disembodied, Light-speckled Beings resonate to the most exquisite of frequencies. The sensation of existence from their point of experience is similar to what humans refer to as love. But unlike the human experience of love, their perception of it is constant, uninterrupted, undivided. Truly, they are made of love.”“I know what it feels like,” Kassandra said, thinking that she was talking to her mother. “Like when I feel so happy because you’re baking a yogurt cake and the sun is shining and the birds are singing and the chamomile flowers smell so sweet!” “That’s exactly it,” we replied. “That’s what being at one with everything is. When all your senses – your sight, your hearing, your bodily processes and mental expectations - merge into a blissful, liquid awareness that revolves around your happy heart. Now let’s go back to these friendly spirits and the place they came from. You should know that the home they left is the realm of what humans call angels. These Beings are Pure Thoughts in the Mind of Creation. Their deeds are perfected to the point that the center of the souls - their Core Signatures - are always following the ever-changing tides of the Life Force. That’s why they are immortal. These spirits resonate harmoniously to the beat of love, the Sound that keeps this Universe together. They don’t perceive themselves as apart from it. Love in this sense feels more like layers of sounds that create a symphony to the trained ear: molecules held together by love, shapes formed by love espoused with intention, entire universes gelled together by the sound of creation, by the Ancient Tune.”By that point in the story, our little friend had given in to deep slumber. It’s remarkable how children can doze off and be sound asleep in a couple of seconds. Perhaps the information we were conveying sounded still a bit too far-fetched, and her young Star brain could only receive it subconsciously. Nevertheless, we continued to relate these memories of Kassandra’s True Origin, since it is our habit to make the most of our points of contact on Earth. And anyway, our words would linger in the room for a few hours, days, months, or even years, until the time would come when Kassandra would be ready to detect them, and embrace the message that they carried for her. “These spirits had gone through all possible levels of the Goddess Games on Venus, their native Morning Star. Now they were ready for a challenge. The Earth and its human inhabitants would provide it, thanks to what was known as the Experience of Matter, or the Illusion of Separation. They were about to split their soul in two, forget about one of the resulting two sparks, and play a sort of ‘hide and seek’ of the True Self, with the Earth as their playground. They kept reassuring themselves that they would remember their True Nature sooner or later, even in the dense plane of human experience. Those who succeeded could try to make a new kind of creature. Their ultimate intention was to incarnate and create a fresh race of higher humans, or human Venusians: perfected human beings made of a special flesh and blood, capable of self-healing and immortality by means of correct choice. The only catch in all of this was that they had to find the right partner, their Twin Soul, and align with them in order to regain their full powers. A handful of adventurous souls before them had started the trend, whereby the physical merge of two human souls who could both hold the Light of the Morning Star had started to create Perfected Beings even on Earth. However, at these point in their adventure, these highly evolved beings waiting for incarnation on the Moon didn’t yet fully grasp what they were really getting themselves into. Success rates so far had been dangerously low. The risk of becoming trapped into matter was real. The peril of forgetting the purpose of their Earth Journey and falling prey to the Wheel of Karma for many lifetimes was high on the cards. “Earth angels” had been few and far between: just a handful every thousand or so Earth years. To make things worse, the outcomes to date had been frequently either very short-lived, or resulting in ascetic human creatures devoid of sexuality. Lucifer was one notorious exception, of course. After all, this ambitious pioneer was the Venusian who had started the Goddess Games on Earth with his famous ‘fall’. He then made his home there and decided to linger on. And now he is a well-established presence on the blue planet, and a very human one at that.Given that the ‘making of an angel’ on Earth was no easy task, much pondering and exploring the concept of ‘life as humans’ had filled these Venusian spirits’ lives, before deciding to give it a try. They hoped that the memory of their original Light – their frequency signatures – would be enough for them to remember that they were actually one imagining to become two as a bit of fun. Matter, however, would prove tricky and sticky. It would provide a completely new experience for which they had no frame of reference. Hopefully, their Venusian ancestry could enable them to have human bodies made of a type of flesh that couldn’t hold on to anything that wasn’t conducive to love, wisdom and bliss for too long. Nevertheless, they understood that the frequency of love on Earth was very sluggish and weak, their physical senses would slow down experience, and the Ancient Tune - the Cosmic Music that holds the threads of Creation in perfect balance - wouldn’t always be detected. They might fall prey to the illusion of separation, and feel lost, confused, alone...Back to the point where these spirits were lining up for incarnation. Among them was one who is at the heart of this story. This playful soul was staring at the Earth, transfixed by surprise and anticipation. So engrossed was she in this new vision that her essence unexpectedly projected itself in space-time, and into the realm of matter. Although briefly, and solely through her perception, this spirit ended up on Earth before having actually entered the Launcher. It is impossible to tell the length of her visit, given that the spirit had not acquired the notion of time yet. Did anyone among the Earth’s inhabitants notice this fleeting visitation? Did her presence on the planet leave a mark, or an imprint? Did it change someone’s life? And if so, how? Someone was bound to have sensed this unusual, higher presence. In this uncharted territory, a weird sensation of incompleteness crept in from the outside and into the spirit’s mind. As she scanned the new surroundings, she realized something was missing. This made the curious, disembodied visitor want to loiter on for a while longer. She felt compelled to set out searching for the absent element, finding novel trepidation and a new sense of pleasure in tuning into the alien environs. It was becoming obvious to the visitor that in this new place, perfection wasn’t expressed in stillness but in action: through flowing, becoming, evolving. How totally different an experience this was from what life had presented her with, up until then...Right before the experience could sink in properly, and in the blink of an eye (figuratively speaking), this solitary, adventurous spirit was pulled back to the queue on the Moon. Perhaps nobody had noticed her brief absence, she hoped. Then the air turned red and vibrant: high time was approaching. This and the other fellow spirits increased their frequencies. Their orchestral sound turned deeper, like a drone. The tempo of their Core pulsations quickened. All that these ground-breaking souls wanted to do was to surrender to the pull of matter, and follow the change in their frequency signature. After eons of calmness, the moment had come for them to fall temporarily asleep, and wait for the Big Wave to cut them in two.At last, they reached and entered the Launcher. Their Cores dissipated into time-fueled semi-oblivion. Their Light became squashed and compressed into an egg, and off they went to Earth. So this how the story ends. Just as another one begins.”Having accomplished our mission, we left the room and returned to Arkadia, elsewhere in space and out of time.Kassandra stirred. “Mummy?,” she said. “Goodnight...”Her mother awoke suddenly. She had fallen asleep in her chair. Antidepressants would often make her do that. At least she had not been crying that day. She sat on Kassandra’s bed, removed an unruly brown curl from the child’s eyes and placed the whisper of a kiss on her forehead. They smiled at each other.“Goodnight, Kassie, sweet dreams.” The little girl fell asleep again, right away. She dreamed that she was running with other children on a meadow in bloom, without a care in the world. A part of her was still like any other child after all.
January 25, 2014
Chapter Six - PARIS BLUES
SixPARIS BLUES
Paris, spring 1990
In a dimly lit underground chamber in the guts of Paris, a group of laboratory-suited individuals sat around an oval table. Their words were muffled by the freezing cold air of the surrounding vaults and the antiseptic masks on their faces. The soft neon light disclosed well-groomed men and women of middle age underneath the scrubs. The room was sterilized, as required by its function as a microbiology laboratory. The catacombs of Paris hide many terrible secrets: this rendezvous was one of them. A grim center table had the undivided attention of the symposium. Lying on it was a human-sized glass pod. A body was wrapped in muslin bandages inside this unusual incubator. It looked like a mummy with the shape of a woman. The mummy was alive. Her right hand was moving, signaling ‘yes’ and ‘no’ to questions being posed. Her vacant eyes and shaven head were the only parts of her body that had not been covered in gauze. Electroshock pads were still attached to the skin on her skull. Wires and fiber optic cables connected the pod to a machine at one end of the table. “Can you hear me?”The mummy raised her left forefinger slightly.“She’s come round, Monsieur Harker, she’s come round! We’ve made it! The electroshock didn’t kill this one! We’ve made it!”The man with glasses spoke with a strong French accent. His eyes were beaming. He stopped the flow of current that was still directed at the woman. The tall man next to him, with chin-length wavy hair tucked under the protective clothing, was Robert Harker. He looked to be in his mid-thirties and was known around the world for many reasons, most particularly for being one of the most handsome men ever to grace the planet. He raised his hands and pushed them forward. Silence fell on the room at his gesture. “Hush, Francois,” he said, “we’re not there yet. She needs to survive the first 24 hours before we can sing our victory song. Marion, what is her temperature?”“42 degrees, Robert. It’s been decreasing slowly and steadily. Her brain activity is within normal parameters. No damage has resulted from the procedures. The lobotomy was successful. Likely, she has retained a comprehension of the basic rudiments of language, but hopefully she has no notion of her identity anymore.”“Let’s see...,” Harker said turning to the mummy. “Who are you?”Silence was unbearable and still unbridgeable for the mummy-like girl: it sucked her in like water down the drain, vacuumed into a void. She lied still. Far too much space was in her head. A big blank descended when the question was asked. She didn’t have a clue as to who she was. She understood sound and nothing else. The voice that was talking to her was soothing. It could take her home. She was pure matter ready to be forged by the whims of her onlookers, by the sound of that voice. All she could understand were the sensations she was experiencing. She enjoyed breathing, shallowly at first, and then more deeply. Yes was yes and no was no. They had told her so repeatedly when all she could see was that big bright light. Now she wanted to sleep again. Rest. Forget even more. No need to hold on to any memory. She was new, she was the Chosen One. Her body hurt. Her limbs were heavy. Her eyes couldn’t focus on any shape in particular. She had only definitions but nothing to attach them to yet. She wondered if she was a larva, a parasite. No: she was a girl, almost a woman, the Chosen One. Their voices had told her, their words had programmed her. All was dark now and she needed to rest. Marion Le Blanc started fiddling with the machinery. A red button came on. All faces turned to look at what she was doing. She addressed the man wearing glasses. “We’re losing her, Francois. Brain activity is deteriorating. She has a regular pulse though. No panic, the situation is under control. Pump more morphine and give her more anesthetic. That’s it. There should be no major brain damage and she’s likely to have retained all of her organ functions perfectly. Let’s wait and see... my God... I can’t believe we’ve made it... I’ll believe it when she’ll be walking and talking... my God, my good God... we’ve made it, it’s a miracle!”This was the most secretive and confidential clinical trial that Three-D Pharmaceuticals had ever run. Indeed, it wasn’t really a clinical trial, although that was how they had labeled it from the beginning, in case any information leaked. So far so good; twenty years of ground breaking research and preparation had gone into perfecting the study. Many ‘guinea pigs’ had succumbed to the perils of this adventurous experiment. The world needed it now more than ever - Kassandra Morgante had to be stopped before she could develop her self-healing powers and grow ever-lasting cells in her body. No pharmaceutical company could survive if the element of immortality and viral invulnerability were introduced into the minds and bodies of the human species. Everything would blend into oneness. The very foundation upon which the industry was based would be shaken irrevocably. The course of history would be changed forever. Fear and death would disappear over time, and Time itself would eventually come to an end. No one, but a fool, would want this.Duality was much better than oneness, and Harker knew this. Human evolution was based upon struggle and making the right self-preserving choices. Some may maintain that love is nature’s preference. In the third dimension, however, a species’ endurance doesn’t result from love. It depends on fear, which had so far driven the Survival of the Fittest of the Earth. Kassandra had to be wiped out, or at least counteracted. That’s why Harker had devised an antidote to her: her own personal, custom-build nemesis.He turned pensive for a second as he remembered the place of his origin. He could never go back there, to that plane where love rules. Wasn’t love the force that had begun to erode his angel race after all? Too much love can wipe matter away, and sweep life into nothingness. It was starting to happen on Venus when he had taken his bet. He wouldn’t let this happen on Earth, his adoptive planet for the past number of millennia. The last two thousand years had been a greater challenge, as more and more Beings of Light had started to incarnate as Earthlings. This was raising the Planet’s frequency, and humans were starting to live longer and better lives. But it was Kassandra’s birth that was the real problem. She was equipped to succeed: she was designed to be the first immortal human. Something needed to be done before that could happen. Harker had sided with the most money-driven, mercenary pharmaceutical giant in order to counteract the Arkadian Plan. Humans had to continue to suffer and die. Their collective fear had kept him in vogue for so long, and it had given him the strength to last for all these centuries. The Lord of the Ego, the Angel of Pain, the Most Beautiful in the Legion of Angels, or Monsieur Harker as they called him now. He had introduced the Goddess Games on Earth after all, and didn’t want any new rule to be introduced. His amber eyes were fixed on Charlotte Mechant’s body: it was half the size it had been a year before, on the night he had enticed her to the lab. She was an easy prey. A spotty seventeen year-old girl, a problem teenager who’d run away from her family in the countryside of Bourgogne to the French capital in search of work, love and a new body. She was overweight then, verging on obese. Depression and an extreme need for attention were her constant companions. She thought she had found the help she badly needed at Monsieur Harker’s Hypnosis Centre on the Boulevard du Mont Parnasse. The clinic was expensive and lavishly decorated, with marble floors and antique tapestries on the walls. Charlotte fell in love with Bob Harker the second she saw him. All women did; and he knew that she would also follow suit. Now she was lying on the table, covered in bandages and shaved head to toe, having undergone ninety-seven different surgeries and hours of electroshock at various degree of intensity. She definitely had the body she had always wanted at last. It would be revealed once she had healed. He knew that she would succeed: he had created his own personal ‘anti-Kassandra’. From this point onwards, the efforts of the Luciferian Tribe he led could concentrate on making Charlotte believe she was like Kassandra, so that they could swap places, and Kassandra would hopefully forget who she really was. The former would be difficult. The latter would be borderline impossible. There was a lot of cunning in Harker’s plan, but he had to entrap Kassandra before her powers could grow any stronger. It would take some hard work to defy her mighty helpers. The Tribe had always enjoyed a challenge anyway. Harker wanted Kassandra for himself. He could seduce her to, though somehow he felt reluctant at that possibility. Nevertheless, he needed to de-activate her to fulfil his own personal prophecy and create the world he wanted. She was becoming a real problem. Her energy was rising and reaching towards the Core Signature, the harmonious frequency of creation. She could raise the consciousness of those she interacted with by her mere presence. This kind of shift in perception could bring about a change in the cellular make-up of those who experienced it. In due course she would end up tuning into her Core Signature, bringing her chakras into alignment and prompting to the kundalini to rise and dance. When the 12-strand DNA replaced her normal 2-strand one, she would become an angel. This could be contagious, too. That’s why the Tribe was keeping close watch. So far, her escapades into her angelic essence had been short-lived and inadvertent. She didn’t realize they were coming from her and thought of them as external experiences generated by the environment, or as messages from the natural world. Harker didn’t want this to happen, and certainly not while she was in Paris.
* * * *
When Kassandra, who at this stage was an undergraduate student at Edinburgh University, arrived in Paris, the atmosphere changed. She brought Light and good energy, and the city hated this. As usual, we, the Arkadian Masters, followed her to shelter her from the snares of the Dark Forces. After all, the place she was visiting was the hub of all Luciferian activities, the capital of the Dark Angel, the environment in which the deepest wound of the Earth was kept permanently bleeding. Evil lurked freely everywhere, in the lushest of disguises. However, Kassandra hadn’t noticed. Her focus, as usual, was on love, which she was seeking actively once again. This time she was hoping to find it in the romantic surroundings of the French capital, sitting in a café or strolling along the Seine. Letizia was her travelling companion. The girls’ friendship was still as strong as when they were growing up together in Northern Italy. The official excuse for their visit to Paris was that Kassandra wanted to look at some early Merovingian manuscripts in the Bibliothèque Nationale. She was in the third year of her Medieval History degree and had managed to get a travel bursary for this purpose. She and Letizia had already been through a number of adventures together, and they were adamant that this was going to be another one of them. They wanted to explore new ground. April was a good month to do just that. So they boarded a train in Venice one evening, and found themselves in Paris on the following day. They were both 22 then. They took a twin room in a hostel in Saint Michel. Breakfast was included. The expanse of the city stretched out ahead for them to explore. Everything was possible.The first few days were spent admiring the artistic treasures of the Louvre and the Jeu de Paume, and the quirky beauty of the Pompidou Centre. Kassandra wanted to leave the manuscripts until later in their two-week stay. On the third morning, the two friends decided to have an early breakfast and hit the town without any further ado. “Kassie, wake up! It’s sunny outside! Let’s get moving now.”“Letizia... what time is it?”“7 on the dot. I woke up over an hour ago... can’t you hear that?”“What? I’m too groggy... ah, yeah... someone’s singing... underneath our window... down in the alleyway... beautiful voice...” “Beautiful my arse! It woke me up when I really needed a rest. We have a full day ahead of us and I wanted to feel recharged this morning... not serenaded!”The sun was shining through the curtains. Kassandra got out of bed, put on a sweater and went to open the window. “Bonjour! Hey there! Good morning to you and thanks for the music!”A young man in a cowboy hat and a long suede coat was leaning on the brick wall of the back street, strumming his guitar and humming a bluesy tune. He sounded American, at least when he sang. It was hard to make out much of what he was singing though, as his words were mumbled. The song was about getting a girl, taking her away from Boulevard du Montparnasse and to the man who loved her. A strange blues with a Parisian twist, probably his own composition. He stopped for a short second to greet Kassandra with the flash of a perfect smile. There was something familiar about him, she thought, though she was sure they had never met.“Hello...,” he said looking up absent-mindedly. His blond hair fell on his shoulders in sun-kissed waves. “Definitely Californian, definitely a surfer,” Kassandra told Letizia as her eyes absorbed the vision of this suntanned troubadour who looked more like an athlete than a travelling musician. “I have found what I’d come looking for in Paris!”His chiseled face was unique: he had blue eyes and slightly Asian features. He continued to play his music, keeping his eyes on the girl who was leaning out of the window in a vest and shorts. She was even more attractive than he’d guessed at first glance. He had seen her the day before in the breakfast room. Stunning. He had felt a drive, almost a compulsion, to get to know her. Conor, that was his name, was always on the lookout for the chance of a romantic liaison. She fit the part: exotic, innocent and young as she was. How old could she be? Eighteen perhaps? He was a man of experience at twenty-three, and well-travelled too. Was she Spanish? A tourist in the city of love. He had tricks up his sleeves and he wanted to show her. His fingers could touch a young woman in the most exquisite way. He could feel her trembling under his hands already. She had to fall for him: she had to be enthralled by his charms. “Gonna get your girl, gonna take her down...”, he was singing.“Are you staying in this hostel?,” Kassandra asked him. He nodded in reply.“Well, see you downstairs at breakfast then!” He smiled and continued with his song. Letizia appeared at the window and slammed it closed. She raised her middle finger to him as she pulled the curtains. Conor remained as if transfixed in the alleyway, playing his guitar for a few more minutes. Then he woke up from his trance and couldn’t quite understand what he was doing in the backstreet so early in the morning. He felt very sleepy and tired all of a sudden. All he could do was go back to the dorm and hope for a bit of sleep, despite the fact that everybody else would be waking up. “What did I smoke last night? What did I drink? Where did I go,” he wondered. A sensation of panic and fear started spreading from his head to his heart, finally reaching his guts. Or was it hunger? Perhaps he should go and get a bite. Breakfast would be served in half an hour in the hostel. Food or no food, the fact remained that he had no recollection of what he’d done the night before and how he ended up playing underneath a window at dawn. Whose window was it? “Mad trip, man! I’m running on empty here... gotta ground myself again, gonna get some sleep, man!” The two girls emerged from the luxury of their twin room into the hostel’s cafeteria where many of the guests were already busy with breakfast. Kassandra’s hair was in a ponytail. She wore a miniskirt and a sweatshirt that she had selected carefully in the hope of getting the attention of the weird but gorgeous serenading dude. Heads turned as she walked in. She looked around the room: he wasn’t there. Her heart sank. She put some food and a coffee on her tray and went to sit with her friend at the end of one of the long tables, wanting to avoid having to chat with other guests.“Where is he?”She was sure she would find him there waiting for her. She always got what she wanted after all, especially with men.“Kassie, get a grip, he’s probably fast asleep now. He was completely out of his face, didn’t you notice? He wasn’t singing, he was mumbling...”Letizia was right. Conor hit his bunk bed and fell fast asleep, totally oblivious to any noise around him. He started to dream. He could hear a soothing voice in his sleep, hammering the same words in his head: “Get that girl and bring her to me...” Every cell in his body was acquiescing to that command. He was a man with a mission and failure was not an option. Back in the cafeteria, meanwhile, he was the topic of conversation between the two girls. Kassandra had definitely fallen for his charms.“But he nodded when I told him I would meet him here... he had the most beautiful face I had ever seen...” “They all have the most beautiful faces you’ve ever seen, Kassie! And how could you possibly believe him? A total stranger, drunk or something, and that one was definitely from another planet, I tell you. If he’s not sleeping right now, he’s probably walking around the streets of Paris with his guitar, busking to earn some money...” “Not at 7:30 in the morning! Not when he smiled at me the way he did...”“You didn’t come to Paris to fall for an American bum, as pretty as he may be, who is likely high on drugs and penniless. You know the reasons why we’re here...”“Sure, my research... the magical powers of the Merovingians, their divine descent... how I can develop my own powers by following their teachings... but wasn’t he just the cutest man who has ever treaded the Parisian pavements? I want to know him, I have to know him... something is pulling me towards him... Maybe not today, but I’ll keep my eyes peeled and my ears open until I meet him again. I have a feeling he has an important message for me...”Paris looked enchanted that afternoon. The Seine was calm and majestic, and the Eifel Tower sparkled in the sunshine. The girls went to the Beaubourg to watch the street entertainers. Summer was fast approaching and the weather was perfect for outdoor activities. With an ice cream cone in their hands, Kassandra and Letizia stood in the crowd, watching jugglers and contortionists earn their trade outside the Pompidou Centre. Kassandra’s presence brought a sense of wellbeing to the people standing around her, though they didn’t know she was the reason for their sudden bout of elation. Sunshine and joy were the essence of her youthful being. In this set of circumstances, she would normally thrive and the most incredible adventures could unfold. Provided she didn’t get too enmeshed in her human side that always tended to play havoc with her plans. Letizia was aware of the oscillations between her friend’s two sides, and was always on the lookout for signs of approaching drama. That was part and parcel of her relationship with the magical girl. She knew of Kassandra’s powers from their early years in Italy. The first miracle she saw her perform was when she witnessed her resuscitate her dead hamster. Kassandra had since tried to teach Lettie how to copy her skills, but to no avail. She nevertheless insisted that such powers were available to one and all, if only one really wanted to achieve the desired result. “Minds shouldn’t falter in the pursuit of one’s wishes,” she used to say. “You must embrace your heart’s whims with all of your might.” Letizia didn’t know whether her friend was mad or a genius. She was sure that she wasn’t completely human. However, her non-humanity – whatever that may be – wasn’t her concern. She was far more worried by her friend’s over-blown sentimentality and tendency to fall for the wrong guy. Paris was a dangerous place for both of them. Letizia sensed it and realized that her friend was in denial about it. We knew that Kassandra’s human side had taken over, and her hormones had driven her to the place wrongly known as the city of love. It was a city of fun, that was a given, but only that. In that very place, love was vulnerable to attacks from the darkness, and mixed messages could be received. Letizia wanted to protect Kassandra without letting her know; thus we could operate through her. Despite Kassandra’s self-centred take on life, Letizia was generous and loyal to her. She didn’t mind: it would all pay off one day.
* * * *
The crowd of spectators was intent on observing the buskers and the street performers. A group of tiny, one-foot tall, almost invisible people gathered around Kassandra and Letizia as they were watching a show. These creatures served their Lord’s orders to a T. They had been sent to steal Kassandra’s wallet, and to test for still-vulnerable areas in her life. As it stood, her mind didn’t falter. Her body was becoming stronger and stronger. Her Core Signature could at times tune into the Sound of Creation in pitch-perfect fashion, so her invulnerability was on the rise. Her physical belongings and physical environs were all that was left for the Darkness to attack. Everything else, it seemed, was impenetrable to an assault from Shadowland and its creatures. The little people were dark fairies at the service of a very illustrious master: the Prince of Darkness himself, who operated in disguise 1990’s Paris under the name of Robert ‘Bob’ Harker, hypnotherapist supremo. These fairies were only visible to children who had not yet lost the ability to see into the ethereal dimension. These creatures were not really evil. Good and bad are only relevant in the three-dimensional world of duality. As fourth-dimensional beings, they only understood a drive towards action of a type or another. As they belonged to the Dark Side, their inclination was towards the dictates of the ego and their direction was towards a re-enactment of the past. The Pompidou Centre towered over the crowd, and the crowd towered over the little people. The latter were not worried that a couple of kids had spotted them among the standing spectators. Their only concern was how to approach Kassandra without her noticing. This would be tricky: her second sight was already well developed and she had often caught glimpses of the fourth dimension. If she did see them, her abilities would allow her to break anything created by the Darkness. They couldn’t risk being caught by her eyes. They had to aim at her Achilles’ heel: her attraction for men. If a handsome man appeared in the Beaubourg, her stellar sensors would diminish, while she tuned into her human side. This would allow the dark fairies to move around her, freely and unnoticed. Her constant focus on men was due to the fact that her star DNA and cells were developing in her body at the same rate as her human hormones. The more she was turning into a star being, or a human angel, the more her human aspects were attracting, and attracted to, their own kind. The struggle in her was still only hinted at during this phase of her life, and not enough for her to have yet noticed. The little people enlisted the help of one of their human colleagues, Pierre, who was the security guard at the Hypnosis Centre. As an initiate into the Mysteries of Lucifer, he was the ideal candidate for the purpose; all muscles and equipped with a handsome, chocolate-box-type of face. As soon as he walked past the girls, Kassandra’s eyes were glued on him and not on the show. He stopped to stand next to them, skimming her arm with his. Her hormones jumped around her endocrine system sending her far from subtle reproductive signals she couldn’t ignore. She turned to look at him. He smiled. She felt his thoughts travel to her breasts and down to her genitals. She felt instantly aroused. He was very attractive. Not too tall and his face was as cute as a button. He had the same colorings as she: dark brown hair and green eyes. His muscles were well defined but not too bulky. He wore a white shirt and a pair of jeans. Letizia was eyeing him, too. The two girls looked at each other and giggled. With one glance, they understood they were ready to play their favorite game: man-teasing. They would make him hot under the collar, simply because they could. Meanwhile, the little people stood still and observed the three youngsters, ready to intervene as soon as opportunity arose. Pierre started to talk to the girls. He addressed them in English, which surprised Kassandra, given that she and her friend had been talking in Italian next to him.“This is a great act. The guy can flex and bend his body as if it was made of rubber. It’s like watching something against the laws of physics...”“It’s remarkable, and a bit freaky,” Letizia said. Kassandra smiled mysteriously and kept her eyes on the show. She knew that by ignoring a man, his attention would be guaranteed. She was right. An hour later, the three were sitting in a café on Boulevard St. Michel, sipping champagne and talking about things to do in the city. Pierre had offered to be their guide over the next couple of days. If everything went smoothly, Kassandra might bag herself the lovely Californian, while Letizia could find herself in the arms of the cute French man. Love was in the air. Or, more accurately, passion was on the cards. Unbeknown to the girls, however, something more sinister was lurking in the background. Kassandra’s bag was on the floor under her chair. Perhaps it wasn’t very clever to leave it there as a tantalizing bait for any petty thief in the vicinity. Normally both girls would be a bit more street-wise. The fairies took it easily. When Kassandra’s hand reached under her seat to fetch it, she realized that it was no longer there. They hadn’t noticed anyone approaching them, given they were sitting in a corner and her chair was next to the adjoining walls. But the bag had disappeared. And with it, her passport, money and student card. Her heart sank. Now what? They went first to the Police to report the loss of her identification documents and belongings, and from there to the Italian Embassy. By the time they reached the Police Station, the fairies had already taken her bag to the Catacombs. They wanted to disturb her plans during her stay, and bring her energy down to a lower frequency. The high Core Signature she carried was a real disturbance for the Luciferian Tribe, whose members needed a much lower and denser vibe to thrive. In addition, the bag was covered in her DNA: which would be very useful for Monsieur Harker’s experiments. They also wanted to put their hands on her ID. It may be handy in the future. Luck was on their side; they also found her diary. Their boss would be delighted.
* * * *Kassandra, Letizia and Pierre made their way back to the girls’ hostel. Kassandra felt upset and very vulnerable. She was in a hostile environment, surrounded by unfriendly forces. Normally she could dismiss this nonsense with a blink of her long-lashed eyes, but it didn’t seem to work this time. Her feelings were all over the place and she couldn’t think straight. She wanted to be held and protected. She phoned her adoptive father. Lord Hughes arranged for money to be sent to a bank in the city where she could collect it. It would take a couple of days so she would have to survive with some cash borrowed from Letizia. Yet it wasn’t money she was worried about. Something else was draining her soul and her Life Force. She needed a fix of love. As soon as she got out of the phone booth in the cafeteria, the troubadour-surfer crossed her path. “Hello there! Where were you this morning? I came to the cafeteria but you weren’t here!” He had an Irish accent, to her surprise.“I was here! I left around ten to go sightseeing,” she said. “Where were you? By the way, my name is Kassandra. Nice singing this morning. What’s your name?”“Conor. Thank you. Nice to meet you. Are you English?”“I’m Italian by birth but my parents are from Sussex.”“Ah! What brings you to Paris?”“You!”She was her cheeky, assertive self again. They were flirting, as expected. Talking to Conor, her confused state of mind started to ease off. This man’s presence was mellow and calming. Destiny must have sent him. She took him by the hand and brought him to the table where Letizia and Pierre were sitting. “Come join me and my friends for a bite.”Two couples were formed as the evening stretched into the night. After dinner, they went for a walk around the neighborhood. Kassandra and Conor talked about Ireland. She’d never been to the country but was keen to find out about the spirituality of its people. The place had a strong connection with the soul of the land, unlike the majority of Western countries. She was intrigued. Conor had a great affinity for ancient spiritual sites. He described himself as a follower of the ancient druidic religion. One of the reasons for his visit to Paris, apart from busking, was to explore its Catacombs. He felt a strong call towards this area and sensed that it emanated a heavy dark force. Kassandra herself had not been aware of it until that very day. She proceeded to relate the events of that afternoon. Conor told her that he felt that that she was at risk in Paris.“The Dark Forces are after you. I’m speaking through my second sight. You have to trust me on that. There is something in this city which wants to hurt you, which wants to take you away from the man you were born to love and from the very purpose of your life.” She believed him. She knew that it was we, the Masters, who were talking through Conor’s second sight. But she didn’t know that Harker was also using him as a puppet in his scheming. Kassandra was in great danger. Fortunately, Lord Ralph’s money arrived two days later. Kassandra took the first plane to Scotland. She didn’t keep in touch with Conor. Their paths were destined to cross again, however, when she moved to Ireland three years later.
Paris, winter 1991
The lab technician couldn’t hide his enthusiasm. “These cells are remarkably resilient. Marion, come and look at them through this microscope. They have multiplied again and recreated the tissue. The radioactive bombardment hasn’t destroyed or transmuted them. They have managed to maintain the shape they had before irradiation.”Men and women in white coats worked diligently at their assays, checking results and entering them in their log books. Due to the highly confidential nature of the study that was being conducted, the Director and the Research Committee had decided that the experiment should not take place in their laboratories in Switzerland, but at the secret location deep in the Parisian catacombs, in an area so long closed-off that it had become forgotten. No government was informed. The very best scientists from all around the world were recruited to offer their skills to the project. They each signed a one-year contract with a special clause. To ensure the confidentiality of the study, they all had to agree to undergo neurological laser therapy at the end of their tenure. The procedure ensured that any memory associated with this experiment would be wiped away.Marion was the only person among them who would be working throughout the project up to its completion. Her credentials were impeccable: she was married to the Director of Three-D Pharmaceuticals. Her colleagues didn’t know and she would never let it transpire either. Marion and Bob Harker had been married for over thirty years. She was in her late sixties but looked half her age. She didn’t know her husband’s actual age. He said he had stopped counting when he got bored. The truth was a secret he had shared with her, and which she would keep until she died. Robert Harker was immortal. She had married the devil. He was the real thing. Her first reaction had been one of deep terror. In the end, however, she had come to consider meeting him as the best event in her life. Robert was involved in many activities, from medical research to financial investment. He was also the founder of the Hypnosis Centre on the Boulevard du Montparnasse. It had opened at the height of the student revolution, in the early part of 1968. A regular figure on the student barricades, Harker had attracted a significant number of followers. He was looking for candidates who wanted to learn how to expand their minds and reach higher levels of awareness. Many artists, musicians and poets of the time started to attend his workshops in Montparnasse. Rumors of his immortality had started to circulate then. Once a promising research fellow at the prestigious Santé Research Institute, Marion’s path had crossed with Robert’s on campus in 1968. She’d never seen such an attractive man before. Everything about him oozed charisma: his voice, his mannerisms, the way he swept his chin-length fringe from his face. He looked like a Victorian character: like Hanno from the Buddenbrooks, or Dorian Gray of the famous picture fame. As with all women wooed by him, she too fell in love the minute her eyes met his. He loved her too, in his own liberal way. She had that quality he most admired in people: intelligence. Beauty wasn’t as important. It could be recreated through surgical procedures. That had been the case with Marion and many of Robert’s closest female friends. Intelligence, however, and at the level with which she was endowed, could not be solely reproduced at will. Robert wanted to create an immortal human by chemical processes. Marion’s pioneering knowledge of cloning techniques in plants and animals were her ticket to his heart. Thirty odd years on, the two were still the best of partners. Like all couples, they were trying for a baby. But not in an ordinary way. They wanted an immortal baby. This would take some serious work. Marion applied herself in the lab with religious discipline. After many years of research, they were finally making some headway. The experiment concerned tissue cloning. Initially, the research team’s efforts concentrated simply on deriving a population of cells from a single cell. Success rates had exceeded their wildest expectations, so attempts were made at reproductive cloning through somatic cell nuclear transfer. The purpose of their research was very specific: cloning that one particular individual who had obsessed Harker for the past twenty odd years. Marion approached the microscope and looked at the Life Force working its magic on the assay. The cells were unscathed and healthy.“Let me see, Francois. Yes, these cells are perfect. They are alive and reproducing. Monsieur Harker was right: immortality is contained in this DNA. Onto the next step now: reproductive human cloning.”
Paris, spring 1990
In a dimly lit underground chamber in the guts of Paris, a group of laboratory-suited individuals sat around an oval table. Their words were muffled by the freezing cold air of the surrounding vaults and the antiseptic masks on their faces. The soft neon light disclosed well-groomed men and women of middle age underneath the scrubs. The room was sterilized, as required by its function as a microbiology laboratory. The catacombs of Paris hide many terrible secrets: this rendezvous was one of them. A grim center table had the undivided attention of the symposium. Lying on it was a human-sized glass pod. A body was wrapped in muslin bandages inside this unusual incubator. It looked like a mummy with the shape of a woman. The mummy was alive. Her right hand was moving, signaling ‘yes’ and ‘no’ to questions being posed. Her vacant eyes and shaven head were the only parts of her body that had not been covered in gauze. Electroshock pads were still attached to the skin on her skull. Wires and fiber optic cables connected the pod to a machine at one end of the table. “Can you hear me?”The mummy raised her left forefinger slightly.“She’s come round, Monsieur Harker, she’s come round! We’ve made it! The electroshock didn’t kill this one! We’ve made it!”The man with glasses spoke with a strong French accent. His eyes were beaming. He stopped the flow of current that was still directed at the woman. The tall man next to him, with chin-length wavy hair tucked under the protective clothing, was Robert Harker. He looked to be in his mid-thirties and was known around the world for many reasons, most particularly for being one of the most handsome men ever to grace the planet. He raised his hands and pushed them forward. Silence fell on the room at his gesture. “Hush, Francois,” he said, “we’re not there yet. She needs to survive the first 24 hours before we can sing our victory song. Marion, what is her temperature?”“42 degrees, Robert. It’s been decreasing slowly and steadily. Her brain activity is within normal parameters. No damage has resulted from the procedures. The lobotomy was successful. Likely, she has retained a comprehension of the basic rudiments of language, but hopefully she has no notion of her identity anymore.”“Let’s see...,” Harker said turning to the mummy. “Who are you?”Silence was unbearable and still unbridgeable for the mummy-like girl: it sucked her in like water down the drain, vacuumed into a void. She lied still. Far too much space was in her head. A big blank descended when the question was asked. She didn’t have a clue as to who she was. She understood sound and nothing else. The voice that was talking to her was soothing. It could take her home. She was pure matter ready to be forged by the whims of her onlookers, by the sound of that voice. All she could understand were the sensations she was experiencing. She enjoyed breathing, shallowly at first, and then more deeply. Yes was yes and no was no. They had told her so repeatedly when all she could see was that big bright light. Now she wanted to sleep again. Rest. Forget even more. No need to hold on to any memory. She was new, she was the Chosen One. Her body hurt. Her limbs were heavy. Her eyes couldn’t focus on any shape in particular. She had only definitions but nothing to attach them to yet. She wondered if she was a larva, a parasite. No: she was a girl, almost a woman, the Chosen One. Their voices had told her, their words had programmed her. All was dark now and she needed to rest. Marion Le Blanc started fiddling with the machinery. A red button came on. All faces turned to look at what she was doing. She addressed the man wearing glasses. “We’re losing her, Francois. Brain activity is deteriorating. She has a regular pulse though. No panic, the situation is under control. Pump more morphine and give her more anesthetic. That’s it. There should be no major brain damage and she’s likely to have retained all of her organ functions perfectly. Let’s wait and see... my God... I can’t believe we’ve made it... I’ll believe it when she’ll be walking and talking... my God, my good God... we’ve made it, it’s a miracle!”This was the most secretive and confidential clinical trial that Three-D Pharmaceuticals had ever run. Indeed, it wasn’t really a clinical trial, although that was how they had labeled it from the beginning, in case any information leaked. So far so good; twenty years of ground breaking research and preparation had gone into perfecting the study. Many ‘guinea pigs’ had succumbed to the perils of this adventurous experiment. The world needed it now more than ever - Kassandra Morgante had to be stopped before she could develop her self-healing powers and grow ever-lasting cells in her body. No pharmaceutical company could survive if the element of immortality and viral invulnerability were introduced into the minds and bodies of the human species. Everything would blend into oneness. The very foundation upon which the industry was based would be shaken irrevocably. The course of history would be changed forever. Fear and death would disappear over time, and Time itself would eventually come to an end. No one, but a fool, would want this.Duality was much better than oneness, and Harker knew this. Human evolution was based upon struggle and making the right self-preserving choices. Some may maintain that love is nature’s preference. In the third dimension, however, a species’ endurance doesn’t result from love. It depends on fear, which had so far driven the Survival of the Fittest of the Earth. Kassandra had to be wiped out, or at least counteracted. That’s why Harker had devised an antidote to her: her own personal, custom-build nemesis.He turned pensive for a second as he remembered the place of his origin. He could never go back there, to that plane where love rules. Wasn’t love the force that had begun to erode his angel race after all? Too much love can wipe matter away, and sweep life into nothingness. It was starting to happen on Venus when he had taken his bet. He wouldn’t let this happen on Earth, his adoptive planet for the past number of millennia. The last two thousand years had been a greater challenge, as more and more Beings of Light had started to incarnate as Earthlings. This was raising the Planet’s frequency, and humans were starting to live longer and better lives. But it was Kassandra’s birth that was the real problem. She was equipped to succeed: she was designed to be the first immortal human. Something needed to be done before that could happen. Harker had sided with the most money-driven, mercenary pharmaceutical giant in order to counteract the Arkadian Plan. Humans had to continue to suffer and die. Their collective fear had kept him in vogue for so long, and it had given him the strength to last for all these centuries. The Lord of the Ego, the Angel of Pain, the Most Beautiful in the Legion of Angels, or Monsieur Harker as they called him now. He had introduced the Goddess Games on Earth after all, and didn’t want any new rule to be introduced. His amber eyes were fixed on Charlotte Mechant’s body: it was half the size it had been a year before, on the night he had enticed her to the lab. She was an easy prey. A spotty seventeen year-old girl, a problem teenager who’d run away from her family in the countryside of Bourgogne to the French capital in search of work, love and a new body. She was overweight then, verging on obese. Depression and an extreme need for attention were her constant companions. She thought she had found the help she badly needed at Monsieur Harker’s Hypnosis Centre on the Boulevard du Mont Parnasse. The clinic was expensive and lavishly decorated, with marble floors and antique tapestries on the walls. Charlotte fell in love with Bob Harker the second she saw him. All women did; and he knew that she would also follow suit. Now she was lying on the table, covered in bandages and shaved head to toe, having undergone ninety-seven different surgeries and hours of electroshock at various degree of intensity. She definitely had the body she had always wanted at last. It would be revealed once she had healed. He knew that she would succeed: he had created his own personal ‘anti-Kassandra’. From this point onwards, the efforts of the Luciferian Tribe he led could concentrate on making Charlotte believe she was like Kassandra, so that they could swap places, and Kassandra would hopefully forget who she really was. The former would be difficult. The latter would be borderline impossible. There was a lot of cunning in Harker’s plan, but he had to entrap Kassandra before her powers could grow any stronger. It would take some hard work to defy her mighty helpers. The Tribe had always enjoyed a challenge anyway. Harker wanted Kassandra for himself. He could seduce her to, though somehow he felt reluctant at that possibility. Nevertheless, he needed to de-activate her to fulfil his own personal prophecy and create the world he wanted. She was becoming a real problem. Her energy was rising and reaching towards the Core Signature, the harmonious frequency of creation. She could raise the consciousness of those she interacted with by her mere presence. This kind of shift in perception could bring about a change in the cellular make-up of those who experienced it. In due course she would end up tuning into her Core Signature, bringing her chakras into alignment and prompting to the kundalini to rise and dance. When the 12-strand DNA replaced her normal 2-strand one, she would become an angel. This could be contagious, too. That’s why the Tribe was keeping close watch. So far, her escapades into her angelic essence had been short-lived and inadvertent. She didn’t realize they were coming from her and thought of them as external experiences generated by the environment, or as messages from the natural world. Harker didn’t want this to happen, and certainly not while she was in Paris.
* * * *
When Kassandra, who at this stage was an undergraduate student at Edinburgh University, arrived in Paris, the atmosphere changed. She brought Light and good energy, and the city hated this. As usual, we, the Arkadian Masters, followed her to shelter her from the snares of the Dark Forces. After all, the place she was visiting was the hub of all Luciferian activities, the capital of the Dark Angel, the environment in which the deepest wound of the Earth was kept permanently bleeding. Evil lurked freely everywhere, in the lushest of disguises. However, Kassandra hadn’t noticed. Her focus, as usual, was on love, which she was seeking actively once again. This time she was hoping to find it in the romantic surroundings of the French capital, sitting in a café or strolling along the Seine. Letizia was her travelling companion. The girls’ friendship was still as strong as when they were growing up together in Northern Italy. The official excuse for their visit to Paris was that Kassandra wanted to look at some early Merovingian manuscripts in the Bibliothèque Nationale. She was in the third year of her Medieval History degree and had managed to get a travel bursary for this purpose. She and Letizia had already been through a number of adventures together, and they were adamant that this was going to be another one of them. They wanted to explore new ground. April was a good month to do just that. So they boarded a train in Venice one evening, and found themselves in Paris on the following day. They were both 22 then. They took a twin room in a hostel in Saint Michel. Breakfast was included. The expanse of the city stretched out ahead for them to explore. Everything was possible.The first few days were spent admiring the artistic treasures of the Louvre and the Jeu de Paume, and the quirky beauty of the Pompidou Centre. Kassandra wanted to leave the manuscripts until later in their two-week stay. On the third morning, the two friends decided to have an early breakfast and hit the town without any further ado. “Kassie, wake up! It’s sunny outside! Let’s get moving now.”“Letizia... what time is it?”“7 on the dot. I woke up over an hour ago... can’t you hear that?”“What? I’m too groggy... ah, yeah... someone’s singing... underneath our window... down in the alleyway... beautiful voice...” “Beautiful my arse! It woke me up when I really needed a rest. We have a full day ahead of us and I wanted to feel recharged this morning... not serenaded!”The sun was shining through the curtains. Kassandra got out of bed, put on a sweater and went to open the window. “Bonjour! Hey there! Good morning to you and thanks for the music!”A young man in a cowboy hat and a long suede coat was leaning on the brick wall of the back street, strumming his guitar and humming a bluesy tune. He sounded American, at least when he sang. It was hard to make out much of what he was singing though, as his words were mumbled. The song was about getting a girl, taking her away from Boulevard du Montparnasse and to the man who loved her. A strange blues with a Parisian twist, probably his own composition. He stopped for a short second to greet Kassandra with the flash of a perfect smile. There was something familiar about him, she thought, though she was sure they had never met.“Hello...,” he said looking up absent-mindedly. His blond hair fell on his shoulders in sun-kissed waves. “Definitely Californian, definitely a surfer,” Kassandra told Letizia as her eyes absorbed the vision of this suntanned troubadour who looked more like an athlete than a travelling musician. “I have found what I’d come looking for in Paris!”His chiseled face was unique: he had blue eyes and slightly Asian features. He continued to play his music, keeping his eyes on the girl who was leaning out of the window in a vest and shorts. She was even more attractive than he’d guessed at first glance. He had seen her the day before in the breakfast room. Stunning. He had felt a drive, almost a compulsion, to get to know her. Conor, that was his name, was always on the lookout for the chance of a romantic liaison. She fit the part: exotic, innocent and young as she was. How old could she be? Eighteen perhaps? He was a man of experience at twenty-three, and well-travelled too. Was she Spanish? A tourist in the city of love. He had tricks up his sleeves and he wanted to show her. His fingers could touch a young woman in the most exquisite way. He could feel her trembling under his hands already. She had to fall for him: she had to be enthralled by his charms. “Gonna get your girl, gonna take her down...”, he was singing.“Are you staying in this hostel?,” Kassandra asked him. He nodded in reply.“Well, see you downstairs at breakfast then!” He smiled and continued with his song. Letizia appeared at the window and slammed it closed. She raised her middle finger to him as she pulled the curtains. Conor remained as if transfixed in the alleyway, playing his guitar for a few more minutes. Then he woke up from his trance and couldn’t quite understand what he was doing in the backstreet so early in the morning. He felt very sleepy and tired all of a sudden. All he could do was go back to the dorm and hope for a bit of sleep, despite the fact that everybody else would be waking up. “What did I smoke last night? What did I drink? Where did I go,” he wondered. A sensation of panic and fear started spreading from his head to his heart, finally reaching his guts. Or was it hunger? Perhaps he should go and get a bite. Breakfast would be served in half an hour in the hostel. Food or no food, the fact remained that he had no recollection of what he’d done the night before and how he ended up playing underneath a window at dawn. Whose window was it? “Mad trip, man! I’m running on empty here... gotta ground myself again, gonna get some sleep, man!” The two girls emerged from the luxury of their twin room into the hostel’s cafeteria where many of the guests were already busy with breakfast. Kassandra’s hair was in a ponytail. She wore a miniskirt and a sweatshirt that she had selected carefully in the hope of getting the attention of the weird but gorgeous serenading dude. Heads turned as she walked in. She looked around the room: he wasn’t there. Her heart sank. She put some food and a coffee on her tray and went to sit with her friend at the end of one of the long tables, wanting to avoid having to chat with other guests.“Where is he?”She was sure she would find him there waiting for her. She always got what she wanted after all, especially with men.“Kassie, get a grip, he’s probably fast asleep now. He was completely out of his face, didn’t you notice? He wasn’t singing, he was mumbling...”Letizia was right. Conor hit his bunk bed and fell fast asleep, totally oblivious to any noise around him. He started to dream. He could hear a soothing voice in his sleep, hammering the same words in his head: “Get that girl and bring her to me...” Every cell in his body was acquiescing to that command. He was a man with a mission and failure was not an option. Back in the cafeteria, meanwhile, he was the topic of conversation between the two girls. Kassandra had definitely fallen for his charms.“But he nodded when I told him I would meet him here... he had the most beautiful face I had ever seen...” “They all have the most beautiful faces you’ve ever seen, Kassie! And how could you possibly believe him? A total stranger, drunk or something, and that one was definitely from another planet, I tell you. If he’s not sleeping right now, he’s probably walking around the streets of Paris with his guitar, busking to earn some money...” “Not at 7:30 in the morning! Not when he smiled at me the way he did...”“You didn’t come to Paris to fall for an American bum, as pretty as he may be, who is likely high on drugs and penniless. You know the reasons why we’re here...”“Sure, my research... the magical powers of the Merovingians, their divine descent... how I can develop my own powers by following their teachings... but wasn’t he just the cutest man who has ever treaded the Parisian pavements? I want to know him, I have to know him... something is pulling me towards him... Maybe not today, but I’ll keep my eyes peeled and my ears open until I meet him again. I have a feeling he has an important message for me...”Paris looked enchanted that afternoon. The Seine was calm and majestic, and the Eifel Tower sparkled in the sunshine. The girls went to the Beaubourg to watch the street entertainers. Summer was fast approaching and the weather was perfect for outdoor activities. With an ice cream cone in their hands, Kassandra and Letizia stood in the crowd, watching jugglers and contortionists earn their trade outside the Pompidou Centre. Kassandra’s presence brought a sense of wellbeing to the people standing around her, though they didn’t know she was the reason for their sudden bout of elation. Sunshine and joy were the essence of her youthful being. In this set of circumstances, she would normally thrive and the most incredible adventures could unfold. Provided she didn’t get too enmeshed in her human side that always tended to play havoc with her plans. Letizia was aware of the oscillations between her friend’s two sides, and was always on the lookout for signs of approaching drama. That was part and parcel of her relationship with the magical girl. She knew of Kassandra’s powers from their early years in Italy. The first miracle she saw her perform was when she witnessed her resuscitate her dead hamster. Kassandra had since tried to teach Lettie how to copy her skills, but to no avail. She nevertheless insisted that such powers were available to one and all, if only one really wanted to achieve the desired result. “Minds shouldn’t falter in the pursuit of one’s wishes,” she used to say. “You must embrace your heart’s whims with all of your might.” Letizia didn’t know whether her friend was mad or a genius. She was sure that she wasn’t completely human. However, her non-humanity – whatever that may be – wasn’t her concern. She was far more worried by her friend’s over-blown sentimentality and tendency to fall for the wrong guy. Paris was a dangerous place for both of them. Letizia sensed it and realized that her friend was in denial about it. We knew that Kassandra’s human side had taken over, and her hormones had driven her to the place wrongly known as the city of love. It was a city of fun, that was a given, but only that. In that very place, love was vulnerable to attacks from the darkness, and mixed messages could be received. Letizia wanted to protect Kassandra without letting her know; thus we could operate through her. Despite Kassandra’s self-centred take on life, Letizia was generous and loyal to her. She didn’t mind: it would all pay off one day.
* * * *
The crowd of spectators was intent on observing the buskers and the street performers. A group of tiny, one-foot tall, almost invisible people gathered around Kassandra and Letizia as they were watching a show. These creatures served their Lord’s orders to a T. They had been sent to steal Kassandra’s wallet, and to test for still-vulnerable areas in her life. As it stood, her mind didn’t falter. Her body was becoming stronger and stronger. Her Core Signature could at times tune into the Sound of Creation in pitch-perfect fashion, so her invulnerability was on the rise. Her physical belongings and physical environs were all that was left for the Darkness to attack. Everything else, it seemed, was impenetrable to an assault from Shadowland and its creatures. The little people were dark fairies at the service of a very illustrious master: the Prince of Darkness himself, who operated in disguise 1990’s Paris under the name of Robert ‘Bob’ Harker, hypnotherapist supremo. These fairies were only visible to children who had not yet lost the ability to see into the ethereal dimension. These creatures were not really evil. Good and bad are only relevant in the three-dimensional world of duality. As fourth-dimensional beings, they only understood a drive towards action of a type or another. As they belonged to the Dark Side, their inclination was towards the dictates of the ego and their direction was towards a re-enactment of the past. The Pompidou Centre towered over the crowd, and the crowd towered over the little people. The latter were not worried that a couple of kids had spotted them among the standing spectators. Their only concern was how to approach Kassandra without her noticing. This would be tricky: her second sight was already well developed and she had often caught glimpses of the fourth dimension. If she did see them, her abilities would allow her to break anything created by the Darkness. They couldn’t risk being caught by her eyes. They had to aim at her Achilles’ heel: her attraction for men. If a handsome man appeared in the Beaubourg, her stellar sensors would diminish, while she tuned into her human side. This would allow the dark fairies to move around her, freely and unnoticed. Her constant focus on men was due to the fact that her star DNA and cells were developing in her body at the same rate as her human hormones. The more she was turning into a star being, or a human angel, the more her human aspects were attracting, and attracted to, their own kind. The struggle in her was still only hinted at during this phase of her life, and not enough for her to have yet noticed. The little people enlisted the help of one of their human colleagues, Pierre, who was the security guard at the Hypnosis Centre. As an initiate into the Mysteries of Lucifer, he was the ideal candidate for the purpose; all muscles and equipped with a handsome, chocolate-box-type of face. As soon as he walked past the girls, Kassandra’s eyes were glued on him and not on the show. He stopped to stand next to them, skimming her arm with his. Her hormones jumped around her endocrine system sending her far from subtle reproductive signals she couldn’t ignore. She turned to look at him. He smiled. She felt his thoughts travel to her breasts and down to her genitals. She felt instantly aroused. He was very attractive. Not too tall and his face was as cute as a button. He had the same colorings as she: dark brown hair and green eyes. His muscles were well defined but not too bulky. He wore a white shirt and a pair of jeans. Letizia was eyeing him, too. The two girls looked at each other and giggled. With one glance, they understood they were ready to play their favorite game: man-teasing. They would make him hot under the collar, simply because they could. Meanwhile, the little people stood still and observed the three youngsters, ready to intervene as soon as opportunity arose. Pierre started to talk to the girls. He addressed them in English, which surprised Kassandra, given that she and her friend had been talking in Italian next to him.“This is a great act. The guy can flex and bend his body as if it was made of rubber. It’s like watching something against the laws of physics...”“It’s remarkable, and a bit freaky,” Letizia said. Kassandra smiled mysteriously and kept her eyes on the show. She knew that by ignoring a man, his attention would be guaranteed. She was right. An hour later, the three were sitting in a café on Boulevard St. Michel, sipping champagne and talking about things to do in the city. Pierre had offered to be their guide over the next couple of days. If everything went smoothly, Kassandra might bag herself the lovely Californian, while Letizia could find herself in the arms of the cute French man. Love was in the air. Or, more accurately, passion was on the cards. Unbeknown to the girls, however, something more sinister was lurking in the background. Kassandra’s bag was on the floor under her chair. Perhaps it wasn’t very clever to leave it there as a tantalizing bait for any petty thief in the vicinity. Normally both girls would be a bit more street-wise. The fairies took it easily. When Kassandra’s hand reached under her seat to fetch it, she realized that it was no longer there. They hadn’t noticed anyone approaching them, given they were sitting in a corner and her chair was next to the adjoining walls. But the bag had disappeared. And with it, her passport, money and student card. Her heart sank. Now what? They went first to the Police to report the loss of her identification documents and belongings, and from there to the Italian Embassy. By the time they reached the Police Station, the fairies had already taken her bag to the Catacombs. They wanted to disturb her plans during her stay, and bring her energy down to a lower frequency. The high Core Signature she carried was a real disturbance for the Luciferian Tribe, whose members needed a much lower and denser vibe to thrive. In addition, the bag was covered in her DNA: which would be very useful for Monsieur Harker’s experiments. They also wanted to put their hands on her ID. It may be handy in the future. Luck was on their side; they also found her diary. Their boss would be delighted.
* * * *Kassandra, Letizia and Pierre made their way back to the girls’ hostel. Kassandra felt upset and very vulnerable. She was in a hostile environment, surrounded by unfriendly forces. Normally she could dismiss this nonsense with a blink of her long-lashed eyes, but it didn’t seem to work this time. Her feelings were all over the place and she couldn’t think straight. She wanted to be held and protected. She phoned her adoptive father. Lord Hughes arranged for money to be sent to a bank in the city where she could collect it. It would take a couple of days so she would have to survive with some cash borrowed from Letizia. Yet it wasn’t money she was worried about. Something else was draining her soul and her Life Force. She needed a fix of love. As soon as she got out of the phone booth in the cafeteria, the troubadour-surfer crossed her path. “Hello there! Where were you this morning? I came to the cafeteria but you weren’t here!” He had an Irish accent, to her surprise.“I was here! I left around ten to go sightseeing,” she said. “Where were you? By the way, my name is Kassandra. Nice singing this morning. What’s your name?”“Conor. Thank you. Nice to meet you. Are you English?”“I’m Italian by birth but my parents are from Sussex.”“Ah! What brings you to Paris?”“You!”She was her cheeky, assertive self again. They were flirting, as expected. Talking to Conor, her confused state of mind started to ease off. This man’s presence was mellow and calming. Destiny must have sent him. She took him by the hand and brought him to the table where Letizia and Pierre were sitting. “Come join me and my friends for a bite.”Two couples were formed as the evening stretched into the night. After dinner, they went for a walk around the neighborhood. Kassandra and Conor talked about Ireland. She’d never been to the country but was keen to find out about the spirituality of its people. The place had a strong connection with the soul of the land, unlike the majority of Western countries. She was intrigued. Conor had a great affinity for ancient spiritual sites. He described himself as a follower of the ancient druidic religion. One of the reasons for his visit to Paris, apart from busking, was to explore its Catacombs. He felt a strong call towards this area and sensed that it emanated a heavy dark force. Kassandra herself had not been aware of it until that very day. She proceeded to relate the events of that afternoon. Conor told her that he felt that that she was at risk in Paris.“The Dark Forces are after you. I’m speaking through my second sight. You have to trust me on that. There is something in this city which wants to hurt you, which wants to take you away from the man you were born to love and from the very purpose of your life.” She believed him. She knew that it was we, the Masters, who were talking through Conor’s second sight. But she didn’t know that Harker was also using him as a puppet in his scheming. Kassandra was in great danger. Fortunately, Lord Ralph’s money arrived two days later. Kassandra took the first plane to Scotland. She didn’t keep in touch with Conor. Their paths were destined to cross again, however, when she moved to Ireland three years later.
Paris, winter 1991
The lab technician couldn’t hide his enthusiasm. “These cells are remarkably resilient. Marion, come and look at them through this microscope. They have multiplied again and recreated the tissue. The radioactive bombardment hasn’t destroyed or transmuted them. They have managed to maintain the shape they had before irradiation.”Men and women in white coats worked diligently at their assays, checking results and entering them in their log books. Due to the highly confidential nature of the study that was being conducted, the Director and the Research Committee had decided that the experiment should not take place in their laboratories in Switzerland, but at the secret location deep in the Parisian catacombs, in an area so long closed-off that it had become forgotten. No government was informed. The very best scientists from all around the world were recruited to offer their skills to the project. They each signed a one-year contract with a special clause. To ensure the confidentiality of the study, they all had to agree to undergo neurological laser therapy at the end of their tenure. The procedure ensured that any memory associated with this experiment would be wiped away.Marion was the only person among them who would be working throughout the project up to its completion. Her credentials were impeccable: she was married to the Director of Three-D Pharmaceuticals. Her colleagues didn’t know and she would never let it transpire either. Marion and Bob Harker had been married for over thirty years. She was in her late sixties but looked half her age. She didn’t know her husband’s actual age. He said he had stopped counting when he got bored. The truth was a secret he had shared with her, and which she would keep until she died. Robert Harker was immortal. She had married the devil. He was the real thing. Her first reaction had been one of deep terror. In the end, however, she had come to consider meeting him as the best event in her life. Robert was involved in many activities, from medical research to financial investment. He was also the founder of the Hypnosis Centre on the Boulevard du Montparnasse. It had opened at the height of the student revolution, in the early part of 1968. A regular figure on the student barricades, Harker had attracted a significant number of followers. He was looking for candidates who wanted to learn how to expand their minds and reach higher levels of awareness. Many artists, musicians and poets of the time started to attend his workshops in Montparnasse. Rumors of his immortality had started to circulate then. Once a promising research fellow at the prestigious Santé Research Institute, Marion’s path had crossed with Robert’s on campus in 1968. She’d never seen such an attractive man before. Everything about him oozed charisma: his voice, his mannerisms, the way he swept his chin-length fringe from his face. He looked like a Victorian character: like Hanno from the Buddenbrooks, or Dorian Gray of the famous picture fame. As with all women wooed by him, she too fell in love the minute her eyes met his. He loved her too, in his own liberal way. She had that quality he most admired in people: intelligence. Beauty wasn’t as important. It could be recreated through surgical procedures. That had been the case with Marion and many of Robert’s closest female friends. Intelligence, however, and at the level with which she was endowed, could not be solely reproduced at will. Robert wanted to create an immortal human by chemical processes. Marion’s pioneering knowledge of cloning techniques in plants and animals were her ticket to his heart. Thirty odd years on, the two were still the best of partners. Like all couples, they were trying for a baby. But not in an ordinary way. They wanted an immortal baby. This would take some serious work. Marion applied herself in the lab with religious discipline. After many years of research, they were finally making some headway. The experiment concerned tissue cloning. Initially, the research team’s efforts concentrated simply on deriving a population of cells from a single cell. Success rates had exceeded their wildest expectations, so attempts were made at reproductive cloning through somatic cell nuclear transfer. The purpose of their research was very specific: cloning that one particular individual who had obsessed Harker for the past twenty odd years. Marion approached the microscope and looked at the Life Force working its magic on the assay. The cells were unscathed and healthy.“Let me see, Francois. Yes, these cells are perfect. They are alive and reproducing. Monsieur Harker was right: immortality is contained in this DNA. Onto the next step now: reproductive human cloning.”
January 24, 2014
Chapter Seven - "OSCAR"
SevenOSCAR
Connection
As he walked in downtown Glasgow, soft rain was falling on the street and on his face. He didn’t care. He was following his inspiration. Nothing could distract his concentration from the prey of his attention. The dark waves of his chin-length locks had turned to softer curls in the damp air. He towered over the crowd of shoppers in Buchanan Street for both height and presence. The gentle loveliness of the East and the muscular beauty of the West were fused in him. He had an elegant, slow stride. He wouldn’t go anywhere without a drawing pad and a bag full of crayons. A celebrity in town: his eyes were on the pavement and his head was in the clouds. Oscar O’Leary wouldn’t go unnoticed anywhere. Glam World magazine had mentioned his visit to the city. Two young women whispered to each other when they recognized him. He didn’t see them, busy as he was digging up the bones of an distant memory, a long-buried feeling that he wanted to forget and had been afraid to retrieve for a long time. It had caused him so much hurt. “I turn you into shapes and colors as liquid as sunshine,” he had thought on a dark night. “If I give you a name, a hue, a sensation, I will become your master and you won’t rule my life anymore...” That’s how he took up painting: to escape the demons of his past. He was twelve then. Thirteen years later he’d become the youngest artist to have a monographic exhibition in the prestigious Situchi Gallery, the coolest place to showcase and sell one’s art work. The rest is history. Many Hollywood stars bought his paintings and installations. The world fell in love with him and he became an overnight success. Three years on to that date, he was in town as the star guest at the vernissageof a joint exhibition by Glaswegian artists. Life was wonderful. He was the center of attention, and that was good. But an important someone was still missing from his life, and that bothered him. He felt incomplete on his own, which made him think about things he wanted to forget. Unbeknown to Oscar and Kassandra, their respective paths were pulling them towards their first encounter. Well, their first encounter in the third dimension of physicality.The two girls called Oscar. He turned and noticed them. “The blonde’s hot. Mega boobs.”They asked for his autograph. He was used to being stopped like that. Even that kind of ‘worship’ was a call for love, from both sides. People took photographs. A small crowd gathered around him. Fans asked him the usual questions. Was it true that Layla McIntyre was going to be at the opening? Were they dating? How was his experience in Australia? Did he really go on a walkabout with an Aborigine tribe for three months? Did it give him a different perspective to his work? Was that the inspiration behind his latest production?By means of a reply, he said: “Is that what you want to believe?” He was everything but verbose. He could now sense a sudden magnetic pull in his chest. His Native Australian friends had taught him to listen to this kind of heart-intuition. Ignoring the crowd of admirers around him, he turned his hazel eyes to the passing clouds in the sky, tilting his head back a little as to let the rain kiss his neck. “New feeling. Very strong. I can’t think of any event or person clearly associated to it... Wow...”Yet there was a familiar je ne sais quoi in that sensation. What was it? Who was it? As soon as a sense of recognition registered in his mind, the impression was gone and all he could hear was the rumbling of his stomach. He’d not eaten since lunchtime on the day before. Noon was approaching again. A coffee shop came into the focus of his glance: “Soul Food.” Heaven-sent, obviously. It was a picture of prettiness made of lime green tables and pink chairs. He stepped in and sat at the only vacant table. That’s when he saw her. Months later, on a romantic night, he told her that his heart had barely beaten in her absence up until that moment.
Soul Café, Glasgow, 24 April 1993
“Oh my God! Kassie, can you see him?! He’s sitting in front of me, and he’s looking in our direction... Oscar O’Leary... I can’t believe it... he’s so gorgeous... I think he saw me looking at him... am I blushing? Incredible, he’s amazing, he’s just so sexy!” I was only half-listening to Polly’s ramblings on this painter who was supposed to be the most spiritual artist who’d ever walked the planet, a person who brought art alive with his drawings, who’d awoken magic into the eyes of those who beheld them. On first impression, you seemed a bit too self-conscious. Handsome? Well, very. Your black curls had hints of blue in their natural wave. Your eyes were the color of amber and your face was chiseled and yet as gentle as an angel’s. You were so young then.Somehow you didn’t make a massive impression on me at first. I thought you were the kind of man who expected the world to revolve around him. The fact that at the time I was myself a girl who wanted to be the center of attention probably confused me. I thought Gordon’s muscular body was more manly and powerful than yours. What I found appealing about Gordon was his obliviousness to his surroundings and his mindlessness of fans, although he was a celebrity in his own right. My ex was self-involved at best and self-centered at worst. Or perhaps he was just too thick to realize that there was a world around him. But I was still intrigued by you. I studied you as you sat two tables away from ours. Unlike the majority of people, you were paying attention to every single detail in the café, as if your penetrating eyes were marking the territory. There was a lot of purple in your aura, together with gold and emerald green. You were very charismatic: your presence filled the room. I knew you were Irish by descent, and you also had Japanese blood in your veins. Your maternal grandmother, Yoshiko Suno, had been an acclaimed actress in Yomasami’s plays. Her affair with the great Irish mystical poet was a scandal in the 1930s. Your mother was the love child of the east and the west. That’s why your looks were unique. I stared at you as you kept sketching on your notepad. Your movements were composed and relaxed, as if you were drawing something from memory, channeling all your awareness into those gentle strokes. You raised your head and looked at me for half a second. Our eyes met for the first time. Time stood still and expanded. Everything around us disappeared into a background of nothingness. You had magnetic come-to-bed eyes. They were drawing me into your world. You wanted to enlist me in your collection of women, among the notches on your bedpost. Or so I thought. And so I looked away. I wouldn’t fall prey to the ego of a Casanova. A part of me was still in love with Gordon. My human self needed a little more time to be distracted from the pain of my loss. You smiled. At me. I didn’t bat an eyelid. Instead, I said to Polly: “He likes you. He’s winking at you, woman... come on, do something!”I was only trying to deflect your attention, your energy. I wasn’t ready yet. I was afraid of you. At the same time, I was in awe.“Go ask him for his autograph... or his room number,” I said. “They say he’s a slut, and he’s definitely taking a shine here... you should use this opportunity!” Polly was a very shy girl who would never approach you without my help. I only said those words in an attempt to side-track my eyes from wanting to meet yours. I intended to eat my scone and get out of that place. I was uncomfortable and under scrutiny. Your glance stuck to my skin like honeydew. It made me feel exposed and vulnerable. As a displacement activity, I started reading the newspaper that was lying on the empty chair at our table. I opened it at a random page. Fate has a strange sense of humor. Gordon’s face was staring at me from the ‘gossip’ column. It was official: he was going to become a father. The short article referred to Linda as his ‘girlfriend’. My heart sank in that coffee shop. I’d not got over him as completely as I had assumed. My mind had, but not my body. My blood ran cold. I had to leave the café and be alone. I rushed out and started running down Buchanan Street like a headless ghost from somebody’s past. Polly understood what had happened as soon as she saw the article. She paid for our coffees, cast a final longing glance at you and then followed me to the street. By the time she got out of Soul Food, I’d already disappeared into the maze of my desperate thoughts. Not a place for the uninitiated to venture.
Arkadians on the side-lines
We had been in the café for a while as well. We didn’t miss a second of what had gone on. Particular heed was paid to the silent interaction between Kassandra and Oscar. They had met, at last. We spied his sketchbook and were surprised at the remarkable resemblance of his portrait of Kassandra. The way he had depicted her hinted at her secret. He’d stumbled upon it so effortlessly. He would disclose it to himself very soon. Their encounter went as we had planned it. He fell for her the moment he laid his roving eyes on her face. What we could not get over, however, was the fact that she had not been impressed by him. Did she not recognize him? Did she not realize that he was the one? We had raised her frequency so that he could detect her more easily. Or at least his subconscious mind could. It had worked very well. He had been brilliant at following the signs. He was a good, attentive listener. And true to his well developed earthly nature, his stomach had taken him to the café and right next to her. Kassandra disappointed us with her lack of sensitivity to the Plan. We had sent her all the signs pointing towards Oscar along the way. Of course, she was young and still a bit incredulous. Nonetheless, her disregard for her mission was preposterous. Gordon had definitely dented her purpose. She had never misbehaved like that before. This had nothing to do with the quickening of her transformation, or the effects of the change in her body at the cellular level. There was something more worrying and sinister in the way she had refused to listen to her destiny. Her reverting to the past had nothing to do with her nature, with her True Identity: it was completely out of character. The seed of doubt had been planted in her consciousness. We feared the worst. There was only a group of people capable of piercing through such a crystal-clear mind. We feared they had found out about Kassandra. We had to find her as soon as possible. She could even be in danger. Or worse: she could be lost somewhere in space-time. We left Oscar and his sketchbook in Soul Food and set out to follow Kassandra. Trying to tune into her frequency proved useless. Nothing. We tried looking for her through physical eyes. Zilch. She was nowhere to be seen. Her Core signature and Light were undetectable. That was the first time she’d disappeared from our radars during the twenty-five years of her life. Dark clouds loomed in the distance. We returned to the café. From his table, Oscar had watched the scene of Kassandra’s sudden departure. What happened to the girl whose portrait had occupied him for the past twenty minutes? Where had she gone? He had been too busy sketching and familiarizing himself with the new feeling in his heart. He couldn’t even articulate what this sensation was, and why he’d associated it to that lovely woman in the cream and beige dress, and the long brown hair, and the amazing suntan, and those big green eyes that pierced through his consciousness like embers. He was in love. Simple. Just like that. She had to be an enchantress. He could tell the type very well. Her latest antics had also revealed her as an eccentric and a bit of a drama queen. What an exit she’d made! It wouldn’t deter him from wanting the spoils of her heart all the same. He liked her quirky style and those emotions she wore on her sleeve. A crystal-clear bundle of feelings, she was. Of the purest, deepest, most aware kind. He breathed in deeply, finished his coffee and kept at his drawing for another quarter of an hour. He had always maintained that longing is the stuff art is made of. Why didn’t he make a move on her? Why didn’t he run after her and try to save her from whatever cloud was crossing her sky? His face darkened. “Of course I shouldn’t get too close to her, or anyone for that matter, because of what happened in the past.” He didn’t want to think about it, about that wound he kept running from, the mark imprinted on his life forever. He couldn’t get close to her or it would burn her too. He was a hurt-generating machine that might never change. He couldn’t get involved in committed relationships for fear of reducing the other party to pieces. It had always ended like that. Whenever he had shared his heart with a woman. Whenever there was real intimacy. Truly, the only intimacy he’d ever experienced was with a bottle of vodka, a line of coke, and drunken strangers who disappeared from his memory and his life the day after. Things had changed in Australia though. Healing had started there. He continued pouring his thoughts into the drawing of that angelic vision in the café, but the veil of defeat was descending upon him. “No, that’s not the way!” He slammed the palms of his hands on the table, took some change from his pocket to pay for the coffee, packed his sketchbook into his canvas sling bag and left. The other punters in the café turned their heads to watch. He couldn’t care less. He had to catch up with the beautiful girl. He wouldn’t give in to his shyness. Or his wound. His heart would guide him this time. We rejoiced at his decision and followed him in his roaming. He was the only one who could find Kassandra now, at a time when she was lost even to her own self.
Oscar’s Secret (Dublin, winter 1971)
Little Oscar watched Sister Nora’s creeping gown move away in the distance, taking the fat nun with it. Her dark silhouette swept past the rows of beds where the boys had been tied up for their bedtime. Sixteen beds in each room, the sound of weeping and heaving sobs mixed together. The big clock above the main door tick-tocked its sad rhythm. Terror reigned supreme. Now it was sleep or else. Soon the medicine would take effect and kick into his bloodstream like a tsunami. And then all would be calm and mellow. A big stillness would finally expand into his heart and mind. Thoughts were going to be eased out and wiped away. Tomorrow would be another day. But for now, for a few hours, Oscar might hope to be comforted by the nothingness of sleep. Emptiness. Peace. Silence. Perhaps the voices in his head would subside. Perhaps they would give him some respite. Of course, he was a bad, bad, bad boy who deserved to have ended up in that horrid place, and to have been given that unspeakable punishment by the bogeyman in the Infirmary. His family couldn’t handle him. Nobody really wanted him. He had to be cured. Maybe the other boys there were like him, and they wanted the darkness to spread through their minds and their lives like a relentless ink-stain. Perhaps the horror in their souls was also too much. Just like him, even when they confessed their sins, perhaps the darkness would still stretch from their hearts to their minds, and paint their lives the color of the night. They were doomed. They were all possessed. Oscar was aware that he was cursed: how could he ever forget? He was only six and a half but he knew full well that the devil was directing his actions, pulling the strings of his limbs. He was a dreadful sinner. He asked questions about things which could not be discussed. He was restless, he was bold; a naughty boy. His mum had tried to protect him from himself, but the voices had always come back, telling him to do things that would embarrass him, or get him punished, or both.He hated being six and a half. There had been better times. Things had not been that awful when he was still four. He could see the little people others couldn’t see. Mum had told him they didn’t exist: they were the fruit of his imagination. But then they started talking to him. Especially when dad was drunk and would come home stinking of alcohol, with stains on his shirt and violence in his heart and hands. His father wasn’t bad when he didn’t drink. He had taught Oscar how to draw only a year previously. He spent a lot of time with him and his brother that year when he was working from home and planning the building of their new estate in Wicklow. But drinking was the problem that plagued his dad’s generation. When he drank, things would change quickly. Mum would cry, dad would shake her up and shout because she cried, and Oscar would jump into his baby brother’s bed and put his hands on Conor’s ears. At least his brother wouldn’t have to hear what was going on in the background. One night after dad had come back from the local pub and the usual racket had started, Oscar heard the voices in his head telling him not to be afraid. They spoke clearly. They sounded like so many crystal cymbals. “Hush, Oscar. Don’t be afraid. We are here to help you. We’ll keep you company and tell you stories till the night has gone.”He was still four then, and he turned five shortly after the voices started talking to him. There were good voices and scary voices too. The frightening ones were very creepy and sounded like the roar of a dragon or the waves crashing on the rocks during a storm. They told him he was a bad boy who should do as he was told. Otherwise they would haunt him, they would kill his mum and then only his dad would be left, and they would steal away his little brother. Oscar didn’t want to upset them. But he didn’t want to offend his mum and dad either. So what was he supposed to do when those voices told him to go to the kitchen, tell mum not to cry and start punching his dad? He was six by the time he finally took the good voices’ advice, and did just that. With a grave look on his pale little face, he stepped into the room where his parents were arguing. He kicked his father’s legs and hit him in the stomach. “Let her go, let her go...,” he demanded. Oscar’s actions shocked his father into stopping the beating. He shook himself and looked ashamed, then slumped on his knees and hugged his little boy. “Oscar, I’m so so so sorry... I didn’t mean to hurt her. I don’t want to hurt anyone, you, your mother, anyone... I am weak, I am a weak man... I lose control, I lose the run of myself and my actions. I won’t do this again, I will never do this again. Forgive me, little man.” Oscar’s eyes grew serious as tears streamed down his cheeks. “Okay, dad,” he said. But he knew he would never forgive his father for the trauma he had inflicted on him. “Well done, Oscar, you brought peace back in your family,” the good voices said. “But you shouldn’t have used violence...”This was clearly no time for celebrations. There was blood coming out from his mother’s nose as she was lying on the floor, shaking and sobbing louder than ever. “Oscar, come here, don’t be afraid, mo chroí. Mummy’s okay, I banged my head on the cupboard and your dad just got mad at me for getting hurt. You know how clumsy I am. That’s all it was, it was all my fault.” But Oscar knew that she was lying. “It’s your fault,” the bad voices said. “No, it’s not,” the good ones told him. He felt like his head was sliced in two. Six months later, Oscar was sent to St. Anthony’s Children’s Institution. It was an old hospital that housed kids with varying mental pathologies: from those feared to have behavioral problems to the truly possessed, like Oscar. His stay was meant to cure him of his seizures, which had started shortly after he had witnessed his dad beat up his mum up in the kitchen on that fateful night. His parents initially didn’t want to send him to the Institution. First, they flew him over to Japan to stay with his maternal grandmother. He could be treated properly there, and undergo psychological tests and art therapy for children. Those were probably the best months of his young, tragic life. Grandma Yoshiko lived in Tokyo. She was still acting when he was a child. She had always lived alone as she and Grandpa were not married. Oscar had never met his grandfather, the great poet, who had died during the war, shortly after the birth of his mother.Oscar’s mother, Elaine Aki, was raised in Japan by Grandma alone. However, she had always felt more Irish than Japanese, and had always known she would marry young. Growing up without a father meant she needed a strong man in her life as soon as possible, she thought. She had moved to Dublin when she was eighteen to study English literature and drama, pretty much in her father’s footsteps. In her first year at college, she and Oscar’s father met at a ball. It was a classic case of opposites attracting each other. Brian O’Leary was a young architect from a wealthy Kerry family. He lived in Dublin where he owned and managed an architectural firm. He was tall, boisterous and jovial. She was petite, reserved and demure. They married quickly, with Yoshiko’s blessing. Oscar was born within the first year of their marriage, followed by Conor two years later. Brian’s drinking got out of hand after the birth of their second son. Oscar didn’t know what had happened but was quite certain that there must have been a specific reason for it. His parents started fighting a lot. By the time he was five, Oscar had become very afraid of his father and very sorry for his mother. He thought that life was hard and burdensome. All he wanted to do was to sleep or daydream, and protect his brother from the unhappiness of their household. His baby brother was an angel who didn’t need to be exposed to all that hurt. The little people appeared for the first time one afternoon while he was playing in the playground of their family estate. Mum was pregnant with Conor and was sitting on a bench, writing a letter. Salvador, the gardener, was watering the rose bushes and whistling a tune. Mum stopped writing and smiled at him. Salvador nodded back. Oscar walked away from the baby swing, entranced by the blueness of the sky above him. Then something sparkled in his sight. He thought it was an ingot of gold, or a magical ring, or a secret treasure chest hidden among the oak trees at the back of the playground. He followed the shimmering until he was out of the grown-ups’ visual range. That’s when he saw them, sitting on a rock, sunbathing: two little elves, one male and one female, dressed in the leaves and flowers of the summer. He wasn’t too surprised. He had always suspected that there was more to life than meets the eye. The two little persons were staring at him too, motionless. All of a sudden, they stood up and ran towards him, sprinkling fairy dust around his feet. Before he could say a word, they had disappeared. No way could he tell anyone of this magical encounter! This would be a secret for as long as he could keep it. And he had only just learned to say a couple of words by then anyway: he was only two and a half after all. These new friends would keep him company in months to come, when life in his family would take a very unhappy turn.These elves had also followed Oscar to Tokyo three and a half years later, at the height of his sadness. Grandma couldn’t see them but she didn’t doubt that they existed. She would do anything to make his grandchild feel accepted, and she always showered him with love and her full attention. During the first six months of his stay, his health improved, although he missed his family. But Grandma would teach him many things. She would read him beautiful stories and let him have all the treats he wanted. Peace seemed to have come to stay, until one dreadful night when the Lord of the Darkness himself came to Oscar’s bed and sat at his side. He told him that he was his own child, and Brian wasn’t really his dad. Oscar screamed: “I don’t believe you!”Grandma switched the lights on only to find her grandson had wet his bed and was shrieking like a lunatic, beating his head and fists on the wall to the point of bleeding. It took her all of her strength and the help of the night servants to calm him down. Oscar’s seizure ended after twenty minutes of madness. The boy collapsed in bed, as white as a sheet and covered in sweat. His temperature was sky high and he was foaming at the mouth. The following day he was sent to the best neurologist in Tokyo who gave him some medication to calm his nerves. Two days later, he and Grandma were on a plane back to Dublin. The following week, he found himself at St. Anthony’s Institution in Bray. He was to spend the next three weeks there. His life was about to change forever.At the Institution, Sister Nora was one of the people he feared the most, almost as much as the bogeyman. She was very violent. Beatings were one of the ways used to keep naughty children under control, and she relished her role as teacher of these lessons. Oscar misbehaved all the time. He had to do what the voices told him to do. They made him do the dirtiest of things. He couldn’t help but take off his clothes and run around naked. He couldn’t help but play with his willy until thrilling sparkles ran through his limbs. He couldn’t help but say bad words. He couldn’t help but wet his bed. He couldn’t help but break windows, smash furniture, fight with the other children. What else was he supposed to do? He was a sinner: the grown-ups had told him so many times. In the second week of his stay, he was sent to the special ward where they housed all the boys as bad as he. They all seemed very quiet at first. Of course, they were sedated. Most of them had already undergone electroshock therapy, and soon he would also face this treatment. It was the last hope. His parents came to visit him twice. Mum cried every time she saw him. Dad wore a serious expression and told him to chin up. All Oscar wanted to know was how Conor was, and if he missed his big brother. Otherwise, words failed him. The more silent he turned, the louder the voices started to become in his head. One night the bad ones told him that the next day was going to be the toughest day of his life. That he would lose his mind completely. That the treatment he was to undergo was very strong and very painful. Oscar wanted to sleep and forget about it all, except he knew that upon awakening, he would be greeted by the worst, scariest day of his life. He wanted to die. He started praying that he could die. The voices laughed at him. He was the child of the devil. He opened his eyes in the hope that they would stop. When he turned his head to the window next to his bed, he saw a face reflected in the windowpane, although no one else was there with him. Perhaps the little people were now playing tricks on him. But this was the face of a little girl. She was probably a couple of years younger than him and had big, bright eyes. She put her index finger to her lips and signaled to him that he should hush. Then she nodded and smiled. Light radiated around her. Oscar’s breathing became deep and regular. A strong sense of peace pervaded his mind and his limbs.Who was that girl? Surely she was an angel. Or perhaps a ghost, a girl who had died in the hospital, suffering at the hands of Sister Nora and her entourage. Oscar thought that now he didn’t mind dying. It was definitely a much better choice than recovering and having to go through life with the mark of the devil branded on his soul. “Shhhhhh,” the girl said. Sleep came to Oscar’s rescue. His thoughts melted into a pharmaceutical kaleidoscope of shapes, spiraling down to the pitch-black depths of his love-starved heart. Then there was a long interval of void-like nothingness, until he saw two green eyes that shone like fluorescent lights. They opened up in the blackness to spread Light on that dark night of his soul. They were so bright that even the charcoal shadows of his personal hell couldn’t defeat them.The pale light of the morning came filtering through the curtains, and Oscar awoke to another wet bed. He wasn’t ashamed anymore. He expected to feel afraid at the thought of what was in store for him that morning, but the fear wasn’t forthcoming. He was calm and centered instead. That girl was his Savior: she could sweep all bad thoughts away. He sat up in bed rubbing his fists onto his eyes. He was still sleepy. He went to the washroom and took a quick cold shower. He got dressed in his daytime clothes and went downstairs to the laundry room where he washed his bed linen. Then he returned to the bedroom and made his bed. Now he was ready. He sat and waited for Sister Nora and Doctor Morrissey. He noticed something on the chair next to his bed: a golden chain with an angel medal. The girl must have left it. He put it under his pillow. That medal would have the power to return him to her even after what was awaiting him that day. The nun arrived. Oscar followed her along the long, white corridor, walking on automatic pilot and breathing deeply. They entered an otherwise claustrophobic lift that took them to the vaults under the dormitory. The darkness in the huge room made his eyes squint. A bed stood in front of him, with a machine behind it. It looked like a shelf with many glass tubes on it. A number of wires spread out of the support, with pads attached to their ends. Oscar was put lying down on the bed and was injected with the medicine that had never failed to tranquilize him. He fell into a state of numbness. All he could think about was his breath. The little girl was next to him in spirit. He detected her presence and this made him feel calm. It didn’t matter that he might have died in that experiment. She would be there with him whichever way, whether he was going to be alive or dead after the electroshock. He wasn’t altogether certain that she didn’t belong to the land of the dead already. Arkadia watching the same event, 19 December 1971 The Great Diamond Lodge was in session. We, the Arkadian Masters, were sending high frequencies to Oscar right when the anesthetic was entering his blood flow. There were four adhesive pads applied to his forehead. We saw a nurse put a belt around his temples and fasten it tightly. Oscar was made to count backwards. When he became unconscious, the doctor put a teeth-guard in his mouth. Then the current was switched on. Oscar’s body jolted as if struck by a lightning bolt. One hundred and seventy volts ran through his tiny, fragile limbs for five whole minutes. Kassandra’s astral body – she was indeed the little girl who had comforted him the previous night - stood next to him with her hands on his heart, to protect him from certain death. Nobody in the room could see her. She was making sure that Oscar, one of the youngest patients ever to undergo electroconvulsive therapy in Ireland, would wake up after the treatment. His heart was weak, but it belonged to her. She would do everything in her power to preserve it. In this life, Oscar had chosen a difficult way to remember his True Identity: the Path of Sorrow. Only by allowing himself to experience the depths of despair would he remember his function in the Plan. He was Kassandra’s Earthly Twin Soul. She had known of him and his fate even when she was still a little girl. She hadn’t quite grasped it rationally. But she would often daydream of a beautiful little boy with sad almond-shaped, hazel eyes. Oscar was her invisible friend in her make-believe stories in which he needed her protection to escape from the Darkness. She would always shine her Light on his scared little heart. But her imaginary friend and his misadventures were more real than she could have envisaged then.We, the Arkadian Masters, could read the thoughts of the medical staff in the room as the procedure was being carried out. They didn’t mean to harm Oscar. They wanted the boy lying on the plinth to wake up only with the memory of good episodes and experiences from his past. Everything else would be swept away by the current, they believed. Of course, they knew that there was an inherent risk that his mental capacity would be reduced by the seizures induced by this therapy to modify his behavior. They only wanted to damage what they saw as problematic portions of his brain. If all went well, he would forget the symptoms of his badness because that brain damage would simply delete them. He might end up with some cognitive impairment, but his life would be almost normal. Sister Nora looked serene as she glanced over the activities around Oscar’s unconscious body. She was shrouded in a cloud of Darkness, and she was praying for ‘the mark of the devil’ to be washed away from ‘this little sinner’s soul’. She wasn’t really sure that it could be possible.
We knew that the nun was evil. How could she otherwise have kept silent in the face of the Oscar’s terrible ordeal a week earlier? Just like Kassandra, we had seen what had happened to him in the Infirmary. Yet we couldn’t do anything to prevent it. Of course, the wound it would cause in his soul couldn’t be wiped away by any machine. It would take time, awareness and love to heal. Right then, all we could do was send high frequencies of Light to Kassandra at such a delicate junction, when her love for Oscar was helping him to stay alive.
Connection
As he walked in downtown Glasgow, soft rain was falling on the street and on his face. He didn’t care. He was following his inspiration. Nothing could distract his concentration from the prey of his attention. The dark waves of his chin-length locks had turned to softer curls in the damp air. He towered over the crowd of shoppers in Buchanan Street for both height and presence. The gentle loveliness of the East and the muscular beauty of the West were fused in him. He had an elegant, slow stride. He wouldn’t go anywhere without a drawing pad and a bag full of crayons. A celebrity in town: his eyes were on the pavement and his head was in the clouds. Oscar O’Leary wouldn’t go unnoticed anywhere. Glam World magazine had mentioned his visit to the city. Two young women whispered to each other when they recognized him. He didn’t see them, busy as he was digging up the bones of an distant memory, a long-buried feeling that he wanted to forget and had been afraid to retrieve for a long time. It had caused him so much hurt. “I turn you into shapes and colors as liquid as sunshine,” he had thought on a dark night. “If I give you a name, a hue, a sensation, I will become your master and you won’t rule my life anymore...” That’s how he took up painting: to escape the demons of his past. He was twelve then. Thirteen years later he’d become the youngest artist to have a monographic exhibition in the prestigious Situchi Gallery, the coolest place to showcase and sell one’s art work. The rest is history. Many Hollywood stars bought his paintings and installations. The world fell in love with him and he became an overnight success. Three years on to that date, he was in town as the star guest at the vernissageof a joint exhibition by Glaswegian artists. Life was wonderful. He was the center of attention, and that was good. But an important someone was still missing from his life, and that bothered him. He felt incomplete on his own, which made him think about things he wanted to forget. Unbeknown to Oscar and Kassandra, their respective paths were pulling them towards their first encounter. Well, their first encounter in the third dimension of physicality.The two girls called Oscar. He turned and noticed them. “The blonde’s hot. Mega boobs.”They asked for his autograph. He was used to being stopped like that. Even that kind of ‘worship’ was a call for love, from both sides. People took photographs. A small crowd gathered around him. Fans asked him the usual questions. Was it true that Layla McIntyre was going to be at the opening? Were they dating? How was his experience in Australia? Did he really go on a walkabout with an Aborigine tribe for three months? Did it give him a different perspective to his work? Was that the inspiration behind his latest production?By means of a reply, he said: “Is that what you want to believe?” He was everything but verbose. He could now sense a sudden magnetic pull in his chest. His Native Australian friends had taught him to listen to this kind of heart-intuition. Ignoring the crowd of admirers around him, he turned his hazel eyes to the passing clouds in the sky, tilting his head back a little as to let the rain kiss his neck. “New feeling. Very strong. I can’t think of any event or person clearly associated to it... Wow...”Yet there was a familiar je ne sais quoi in that sensation. What was it? Who was it? As soon as a sense of recognition registered in his mind, the impression was gone and all he could hear was the rumbling of his stomach. He’d not eaten since lunchtime on the day before. Noon was approaching again. A coffee shop came into the focus of his glance: “Soul Food.” Heaven-sent, obviously. It was a picture of prettiness made of lime green tables and pink chairs. He stepped in and sat at the only vacant table. That’s when he saw her. Months later, on a romantic night, he told her that his heart had barely beaten in her absence up until that moment.
Soul Café, Glasgow, 24 April 1993
“Oh my God! Kassie, can you see him?! He’s sitting in front of me, and he’s looking in our direction... Oscar O’Leary... I can’t believe it... he’s so gorgeous... I think he saw me looking at him... am I blushing? Incredible, he’s amazing, he’s just so sexy!” I was only half-listening to Polly’s ramblings on this painter who was supposed to be the most spiritual artist who’d ever walked the planet, a person who brought art alive with his drawings, who’d awoken magic into the eyes of those who beheld them. On first impression, you seemed a bit too self-conscious. Handsome? Well, very. Your black curls had hints of blue in their natural wave. Your eyes were the color of amber and your face was chiseled and yet as gentle as an angel’s. You were so young then.Somehow you didn’t make a massive impression on me at first. I thought you were the kind of man who expected the world to revolve around him. The fact that at the time I was myself a girl who wanted to be the center of attention probably confused me. I thought Gordon’s muscular body was more manly and powerful than yours. What I found appealing about Gordon was his obliviousness to his surroundings and his mindlessness of fans, although he was a celebrity in his own right. My ex was self-involved at best and self-centered at worst. Or perhaps he was just too thick to realize that there was a world around him. But I was still intrigued by you. I studied you as you sat two tables away from ours. Unlike the majority of people, you were paying attention to every single detail in the café, as if your penetrating eyes were marking the territory. There was a lot of purple in your aura, together with gold and emerald green. You were very charismatic: your presence filled the room. I knew you were Irish by descent, and you also had Japanese blood in your veins. Your maternal grandmother, Yoshiko Suno, had been an acclaimed actress in Yomasami’s plays. Her affair with the great Irish mystical poet was a scandal in the 1930s. Your mother was the love child of the east and the west. That’s why your looks were unique. I stared at you as you kept sketching on your notepad. Your movements were composed and relaxed, as if you were drawing something from memory, channeling all your awareness into those gentle strokes. You raised your head and looked at me for half a second. Our eyes met for the first time. Time stood still and expanded. Everything around us disappeared into a background of nothingness. You had magnetic come-to-bed eyes. They were drawing me into your world. You wanted to enlist me in your collection of women, among the notches on your bedpost. Or so I thought. And so I looked away. I wouldn’t fall prey to the ego of a Casanova. A part of me was still in love with Gordon. My human self needed a little more time to be distracted from the pain of my loss. You smiled. At me. I didn’t bat an eyelid. Instead, I said to Polly: “He likes you. He’s winking at you, woman... come on, do something!”I was only trying to deflect your attention, your energy. I wasn’t ready yet. I was afraid of you. At the same time, I was in awe.“Go ask him for his autograph... or his room number,” I said. “They say he’s a slut, and he’s definitely taking a shine here... you should use this opportunity!” Polly was a very shy girl who would never approach you without my help. I only said those words in an attempt to side-track my eyes from wanting to meet yours. I intended to eat my scone and get out of that place. I was uncomfortable and under scrutiny. Your glance stuck to my skin like honeydew. It made me feel exposed and vulnerable. As a displacement activity, I started reading the newspaper that was lying on the empty chair at our table. I opened it at a random page. Fate has a strange sense of humor. Gordon’s face was staring at me from the ‘gossip’ column. It was official: he was going to become a father. The short article referred to Linda as his ‘girlfriend’. My heart sank in that coffee shop. I’d not got over him as completely as I had assumed. My mind had, but not my body. My blood ran cold. I had to leave the café and be alone. I rushed out and started running down Buchanan Street like a headless ghost from somebody’s past. Polly understood what had happened as soon as she saw the article. She paid for our coffees, cast a final longing glance at you and then followed me to the street. By the time she got out of Soul Food, I’d already disappeared into the maze of my desperate thoughts. Not a place for the uninitiated to venture.
Arkadians on the side-lines
We had been in the café for a while as well. We didn’t miss a second of what had gone on. Particular heed was paid to the silent interaction between Kassandra and Oscar. They had met, at last. We spied his sketchbook and were surprised at the remarkable resemblance of his portrait of Kassandra. The way he had depicted her hinted at her secret. He’d stumbled upon it so effortlessly. He would disclose it to himself very soon. Their encounter went as we had planned it. He fell for her the moment he laid his roving eyes on her face. What we could not get over, however, was the fact that she had not been impressed by him. Did she not recognize him? Did she not realize that he was the one? We had raised her frequency so that he could detect her more easily. Or at least his subconscious mind could. It had worked very well. He had been brilliant at following the signs. He was a good, attentive listener. And true to his well developed earthly nature, his stomach had taken him to the café and right next to her. Kassandra disappointed us with her lack of sensitivity to the Plan. We had sent her all the signs pointing towards Oscar along the way. Of course, she was young and still a bit incredulous. Nonetheless, her disregard for her mission was preposterous. Gordon had definitely dented her purpose. She had never misbehaved like that before. This had nothing to do with the quickening of her transformation, or the effects of the change in her body at the cellular level. There was something more worrying and sinister in the way she had refused to listen to her destiny. Her reverting to the past had nothing to do with her nature, with her True Identity: it was completely out of character. The seed of doubt had been planted in her consciousness. We feared the worst. There was only a group of people capable of piercing through such a crystal-clear mind. We feared they had found out about Kassandra. We had to find her as soon as possible. She could even be in danger. Or worse: she could be lost somewhere in space-time. We left Oscar and his sketchbook in Soul Food and set out to follow Kassandra. Trying to tune into her frequency proved useless. Nothing. We tried looking for her through physical eyes. Zilch. She was nowhere to be seen. Her Core signature and Light were undetectable. That was the first time she’d disappeared from our radars during the twenty-five years of her life. Dark clouds loomed in the distance. We returned to the café. From his table, Oscar had watched the scene of Kassandra’s sudden departure. What happened to the girl whose portrait had occupied him for the past twenty minutes? Where had she gone? He had been too busy sketching and familiarizing himself with the new feeling in his heart. He couldn’t even articulate what this sensation was, and why he’d associated it to that lovely woman in the cream and beige dress, and the long brown hair, and the amazing suntan, and those big green eyes that pierced through his consciousness like embers. He was in love. Simple. Just like that. She had to be an enchantress. He could tell the type very well. Her latest antics had also revealed her as an eccentric and a bit of a drama queen. What an exit she’d made! It wouldn’t deter him from wanting the spoils of her heart all the same. He liked her quirky style and those emotions she wore on her sleeve. A crystal-clear bundle of feelings, she was. Of the purest, deepest, most aware kind. He breathed in deeply, finished his coffee and kept at his drawing for another quarter of an hour. He had always maintained that longing is the stuff art is made of. Why didn’t he make a move on her? Why didn’t he run after her and try to save her from whatever cloud was crossing her sky? His face darkened. “Of course I shouldn’t get too close to her, or anyone for that matter, because of what happened in the past.” He didn’t want to think about it, about that wound he kept running from, the mark imprinted on his life forever. He couldn’t get close to her or it would burn her too. He was a hurt-generating machine that might never change. He couldn’t get involved in committed relationships for fear of reducing the other party to pieces. It had always ended like that. Whenever he had shared his heart with a woman. Whenever there was real intimacy. Truly, the only intimacy he’d ever experienced was with a bottle of vodka, a line of coke, and drunken strangers who disappeared from his memory and his life the day after. Things had changed in Australia though. Healing had started there. He continued pouring his thoughts into the drawing of that angelic vision in the café, but the veil of defeat was descending upon him. “No, that’s not the way!” He slammed the palms of his hands on the table, took some change from his pocket to pay for the coffee, packed his sketchbook into his canvas sling bag and left. The other punters in the café turned their heads to watch. He couldn’t care less. He had to catch up with the beautiful girl. He wouldn’t give in to his shyness. Or his wound. His heart would guide him this time. We rejoiced at his decision and followed him in his roaming. He was the only one who could find Kassandra now, at a time when she was lost even to her own self.
Oscar’s Secret (Dublin, winter 1971)
Little Oscar watched Sister Nora’s creeping gown move away in the distance, taking the fat nun with it. Her dark silhouette swept past the rows of beds where the boys had been tied up for their bedtime. Sixteen beds in each room, the sound of weeping and heaving sobs mixed together. The big clock above the main door tick-tocked its sad rhythm. Terror reigned supreme. Now it was sleep or else. Soon the medicine would take effect and kick into his bloodstream like a tsunami. And then all would be calm and mellow. A big stillness would finally expand into his heart and mind. Thoughts were going to be eased out and wiped away. Tomorrow would be another day. But for now, for a few hours, Oscar might hope to be comforted by the nothingness of sleep. Emptiness. Peace. Silence. Perhaps the voices in his head would subside. Perhaps they would give him some respite. Of course, he was a bad, bad, bad boy who deserved to have ended up in that horrid place, and to have been given that unspeakable punishment by the bogeyman in the Infirmary. His family couldn’t handle him. Nobody really wanted him. He had to be cured. Maybe the other boys there were like him, and they wanted the darkness to spread through their minds and their lives like a relentless ink-stain. Perhaps the horror in their souls was also too much. Just like him, even when they confessed their sins, perhaps the darkness would still stretch from their hearts to their minds, and paint their lives the color of the night. They were doomed. They were all possessed. Oscar was aware that he was cursed: how could he ever forget? He was only six and a half but he knew full well that the devil was directing his actions, pulling the strings of his limbs. He was a dreadful sinner. He asked questions about things which could not be discussed. He was restless, he was bold; a naughty boy. His mum had tried to protect him from himself, but the voices had always come back, telling him to do things that would embarrass him, or get him punished, or both.He hated being six and a half. There had been better times. Things had not been that awful when he was still four. He could see the little people others couldn’t see. Mum had told him they didn’t exist: they were the fruit of his imagination. But then they started talking to him. Especially when dad was drunk and would come home stinking of alcohol, with stains on his shirt and violence in his heart and hands. His father wasn’t bad when he didn’t drink. He had taught Oscar how to draw only a year previously. He spent a lot of time with him and his brother that year when he was working from home and planning the building of their new estate in Wicklow. But drinking was the problem that plagued his dad’s generation. When he drank, things would change quickly. Mum would cry, dad would shake her up and shout because she cried, and Oscar would jump into his baby brother’s bed and put his hands on Conor’s ears. At least his brother wouldn’t have to hear what was going on in the background. One night after dad had come back from the local pub and the usual racket had started, Oscar heard the voices in his head telling him not to be afraid. They spoke clearly. They sounded like so many crystal cymbals. “Hush, Oscar. Don’t be afraid. We are here to help you. We’ll keep you company and tell you stories till the night has gone.”He was still four then, and he turned five shortly after the voices started talking to him. There were good voices and scary voices too. The frightening ones were very creepy and sounded like the roar of a dragon or the waves crashing on the rocks during a storm. They told him he was a bad boy who should do as he was told. Otherwise they would haunt him, they would kill his mum and then only his dad would be left, and they would steal away his little brother. Oscar didn’t want to upset them. But he didn’t want to offend his mum and dad either. So what was he supposed to do when those voices told him to go to the kitchen, tell mum not to cry and start punching his dad? He was six by the time he finally took the good voices’ advice, and did just that. With a grave look on his pale little face, he stepped into the room where his parents were arguing. He kicked his father’s legs and hit him in the stomach. “Let her go, let her go...,” he demanded. Oscar’s actions shocked his father into stopping the beating. He shook himself and looked ashamed, then slumped on his knees and hugged his little boy. “Oscar, I’m so so so sorry... I didn’t mean to hurt her. I don’t want to hurt anyone, you, your mother, anyone... I am weak, I am a weak man... I lose control, I lose the run of myself and my actions. I won’t do this again, I will never do this again. Forgive me, little man.” Oscar’s eyes grew serious as tears streamed down his cheeks. “Okay, dad,” he said. But he knew he would never forgive his father for the trauma he had inflicted on him. “Well done, Oscar, you brought peace back in your family,” the good voices said. “But you shouldn’t have used violence...”This was clearly no time for celebrations. There was blood coming out from his mother’s nose as she was lying on the floor, shaking and sobbing louder than ever. “Oscar, come here, don’t be afraid, mo chroí. Mummy’s okay, I banged my head on the cupboard and your dad just got mad at me for getting hurt. You know how clumsy I am. That’s all it was, it was all my fault.” But Oscar knew that she was lying. “It’s your fault,” the bad voices said. “No, it’s not,” the good ones told him. He felt like his head was sliced in two. Six months later, Oscar was sent to St. Anthony’s Children’s Institution. It was an old hospital that housed kids with varying mental pathologies: from those feared to have behavioral problems to the truly possessed, like Oscar. His stay was meant to cure him of his seizures, which had started shortly after he had witnessed his dad beat up his mum up in the kitchen on that fateful night. His parents initially didn’t want to send him to the Institution. First, they flew him over to Japan to stay with his maternal grandmother. He could be treated properly there, and undergo psychological tests and art therapy for children. Those were probably the best months of his young, tragic life. Grandma Yoshiko lived in Tokyo. She was still acting when he was a child. She had always lived alone as she and Grandpa were not married. Oscar had never met his grandfather, the great poet, who had died during the war, shortly after the birth of his mother.Oscar’s mother, Elaine Aki, was raised in Japan by Grandma alone. However, she had always felt more Irish than Japanese, and had always known she would marry young. Growing up without a father meant she needed a strong man in her life as soon as possible, she thought. She had moved to Dublin when she was eighteen to study English literature and drama, pretty much in her father’s footsteps. In her first year at college, she and Oscar’s father met at a ball. It was a classic case of opposites attracting each other. Brian O’Leary was a young architect from a wealthy Kerry family. He lived in Dublin where he owned and managed an architectural firm. He was tall, boisterous and jovial. She was petite, reserved and demure. They married quickly, with Yoshiko’s blessing. Oscar was born within the first year of their marriage, followed by Conor two years later. Brian’s drinking got out of hand after the birth of their second son. Oscar didn’t know what had happened but was quite certain that there must have been a specific reason for it. His parents started fighting a lot. By the time he was five, Oscar had become very afraid of his father and very sorry for his mother. He thought that life was hard and burdensome. All he wanted to do was to sleep or daydream, and protect his brother from the unhappiness of their household. His baby brother was an angel who didn’t need to be exposed to all that hurt. The little people appeared for the first time one afternoon while he was playing in the playground of their family estate. Mum was pregnant with Conor and was sitting on a bench, writing a letter. Salvador, the gardener, was watering the rose bushes and whistling a tune. Mum stopped writing and smiled at him. Salvador nodded back. Oscar walked away from the baby swing, entranced by the blueness of the sky above him. Then something sparkled in his sight. He thought it was an ingot of gold, or a magical ring, or a secret treasure chest hidden among the oak trees at the back of the playground. He followed the shimmering until he was out of the grown-ups’ visual range. That’s when he saw them, sitting on a rock, sunbathing: two little elves, one male and one female, dressed in the leaves and flowers of the summer. He wasn’t too surprised. He had always suspected that there was more to life than meets the eye. The two little persons were staring at him too, motionless. All of a sudden, they stood up and ran towards him, sprinkling fairy dust around his feet. Before he could say a word, they had disappeared. No way could he tell anyone of this magical encounter! This would be a secret for as long as he could keep it. And he had only just learned to say a couple of words by then anyway: he was only two and a half after all. These new friends would keep him company in months to come, when life in his family would take a very unhappy turn.These elves had also followed Oscar to Tokyo three and a half years later, at the height of his sadness. Grandma couldn’t see them but she didn’t doubt that they existed. She would do anything to make his grandchild feel accepted, and she always showered him with love and her full attention. During the first six months of his stay, his health improved, although he missed his family. But Grandma would teach him many things. She would read him beautiful stories and let him have all the treats he wanted. Peace seemed to have come to stay, until one dreadful night when the Lord of the Darkness himself came to Oscar’s bed and sat at his side. He told him that he was his own child, and Brian wasn’t really his dad. Oscar screamed: “I don’t believe you!”Grandma switched the lights on only to find her grandson had wet his bed and was shrieking like a lunatic, beating his head and fists on the wall to the point of bleeding. It took her all of her strength and the help of the night servants to calm him down. Oscar’s seizure ended after twenty minutes of madness. The boy collapsed in bed, as white as a sheet and covered in sweat. His temperature was sky high and he was foaming at the mouth. The following day he was sent to the best neurologist in Tokyo who gave him some medication to calm his nerves. Two days later, he and Grandma were on a plane back to Dublin. The following week, he found himself at St. Anthony’s Institution in Bray. He was to spend the next three weeks there. His life was about to change forever.At the Institution, Sister Nora was one of the people he feared the most, almost as much as the bogeyman. She was very violent. Beatings were one of the ways used to keep naughty children under control, and she relished her role as teacher of these lessons. Oscar misbehaved all the time. He had to do what the voices told him to do. They made him do the dirtiest of things. He couldn’t help but take off his clothes and run around naked. He couldn’t help but play with his willy until thrilling sparkles ran through his limbs. He couldn’t help but say bad words. He couldn’t help but wet his bed. He couldn’t help but break windows, smash furniture, fight with the other children. What else was he supposed to do? He was a sinner: the grown-ups had told him so many times. In the second week of his stay, he was sent to the special ward where they housed all the boys as bad as he. They all seemed very quiet at first. Of course, they were sedated. Most of them had already undergone electroshock therapy, and soon he would also face this treatment. It was the last hope. His parents came to visit him twice. Mum cried every time she saw him. Dad wore a serious expression and told him to chin up. All Oscar wanted to know was how Conor was, and if he missed his big brother. Otherwise, words failed him. The more silent he turned, the louder the voices started to become in his head. One night the bad ones told him that the next day was going to be the toughest day of his life. That he would lose his mind completely. That the treatment he was to undergo was very strong and very painful. Oscar wanted to sleep and forget about it all, except he knew that upon awakening, he would be greeted by the worst, scariest day of his life. He wanted to die. He started praying that he could die. The voices laughed at him. He was the child of the devil. He opened his eyes in the hope that they would stop. When he turned his head to the window next to his bed, he saw a face reflected in the windowpane, although no one else was there with him. Perhaps the little people were now playing tricks on him. But this was the face of a little girl. She was probably a couple of years younger than him and had big, bright eyes. She put her index finger to her lips and signaled to him that he should hush. Then she nodded and smiled. Light radiated around her. Oscar’s breathing became deep and regular. A strong sense of peace pervaded his mind and his limbs.Who was that girl? Surely she was an angel. Or perhaps a ghost, a girl who had died in the hospital, suffering at the hands of Sister Nora and her entourage. Oscar thought that now he didn’t mind dying. It was definitely a much better choice than recovering and having to go through life with the mark of the devil branded on his soul. “Shhhhhh,” the girl said. Sleep came to Oscar’s rescue. His thoughts melted into a pharmaceutical kaleidoscope of shapes, spiraling down to the pitch-black depths of his love-starved heart. Then there was a long interval of void-like nothingness, until he saw two green eyes that shone like fluorescent lights. They opened up in the blackness to spread Light on that dark night of his soul. They were so bright that even the charcoal shadows of his personal hell couldn’t defeat them.The pale light of the morning came filtering through the curtains, and Oscar awoke to another wet bed. He wasn’t ashamed anymore. He expected to feel afraid at the thought of what was in store for him that morning, but the fear wasn’t forthcoming. He was calm and centered instead. That girl was his Savior: she could sweep all bad thoughts away. He sat up in bed rubbing his fists onto his eyes. He was still sleepy. He went to the washroom and took a quick cold shower. He got dressed in his daytime clothes and went downstairs to the laundry room where he washed his bed linen. Then he returned to the bedroom and made his bed. Now he was ready. He sat and waited for Sister Nora and Doctor Morrissey. He noticed something on the chair next to his bed: a golden chain with an angel medal. The girl must have left it. He put it under his pillow. That medal would have the power to return him to her even after what was awaiting him that day. The nun arrived. Oscar followed her along the long, white corridor, walking on automatic pilot and breathing deeply. They entered an otherwise claustrophobic lift that took them to the vaults under the dormitory. The darkness in the huge room made his eyes squint. A bed stood in front of him, with a machine behind it. It looked like a shelf with many glass tubes on it. A number of wires spread out of the support, with pads attached to their ends. Oscar was put lying down on the bed and was injected with the medicine that had never failed to tranquilize him. He fell into a state of numbness. All he could think about was his breath. The little girl was next to him in spirit. He detected her presence and this made him feel calm. It didn’t matter that he might have died in that experiment. She would be there with him whichever way, whether he was going to be alive or dead after the electroshock. He wasn’t altogether certain that she didn’t belong to the land of the dead already. Arkadia watching the same event, 19 December 1971 The Great Diamond Lodge was in session. We, the Arkadian Masters, were sending high frequencies to Oscar right when the anesthetic was entering his blood flow. There were four adhesive pads applied to his forehead. We saw a nurse put a belt around his temples and fasten it tightly. Oscar was made to count backwards. When he became unconscious, the doctor put a teeth-guard in his mouth. Then the current was switched on. Oscar’s body jolted as if struck by a lightning bolt. One hundred and seventy volts ran through his tiny, fragile limbs for five whole minutes. Kassandra’s astral body – she was indeed the little girl who had comforted him the previous night - stood next to him with her hands on his heart, to protect him from certain death. Nobody in the room could see her. She was making sure that Oscar, one of the youngest patients ever to undergo electroconvulsive therapy in Ireland, would wake up after the treatment. His heart was weak, but it belonged to her. She would do everything in her power to preserve it. In this life, Oscar had chosen a difficult way to remember his True Identity: the Path of Sorrow. Only by allowing himself to experience the depths of despair would he remember his function in the Plan. He was Kassandra’s Earthly Twin Soul. She had known of him and his fate even when she was still a little girl. She hadn’t quite grasped it rationally. But she would often daydream of a beautiful little boy with sad almond-shaped, hazel eyes. Oscar was her invisible friend in her make-believe stories in which he needed her protection to escape from the Darkness. She would always shine her Light on his scared little heart. But her imaginary friend and his misadventures were more real than she could have envisaged then.We, the Arkadian Masters, could read the thoughts of the medical staff in the room as the procedure was being carried out. They didn’t mean to harm Oscar. They wanted the boy lying on the plinth to wake up only with the memory of good episodes and experiences from his past. Everything else would be swept away by the current, they believed. Of course, they knew that there was an inherent risk that his mental capacity would be reduced by the seizures induced by this therapy to modify his behavior. They only wanted to damage what they saw as problematic portions of his brain. If all went well, he would forget the symptoms of his badness because that brain damage would simply delete them. He might end up with some cognitive impairment, but his life would be almost normal. Sister Nora looked serene as she glanced over the activities around Oscar’s unconscious body. She was shrouded in a cloud of Darkness, and she was praying for ‘the mark of the devil’ to be washed away from ‘this little sinner’s soul’. She wasn’t really sure that it could be possible.
We knew that the nun was evil. How could she otherwise have kept silent in the face of the Oscar’s terrible ordeal a week earlier? Just like Kassandra, we had seen what had happened to him in the Infirmary. Yet we couldn’t do anything to prevent it. Of course, the wound it would cause in his soul couldn’t be wiped away by any machine. It would take time, awareness and love to heal. Right then, all we could do was send high frequencies of Light to Kassandra at such a delicate junction, when her love for Oscar was helping him to stay alive.
