Piera Sarasini's Blog, page 2

Chapter Three - EDINBURGH

CHAPTER THREE"EDINBURGH"


School, summer 1980
Your mind has a lot to tell you when you're a Magic Girl. You have to learn to listen. When I was little, I loved to spend time alone. I had to. My imagination could take me on wonderful adventures. Daydreaming was my favourite past-time. Reading fantastic adventures came second. I made up a multitude of friends that no one else could see but me. Some of them were pint-sized shiny people who lived among the trees and plants of our landscaped garden at Villa Rosa. Others were bigger and looked like angels. They had colourful waves all around them that looked like wings. Others were a cross between the two types. They looked like angel-children, or perhaps they were grown-up fairies. I couldn't quite decide as yet. They didn't speak to me so there was no way I could ask them to tell me more about their identity. Finally, on the day my dad left us, my imaginary friends made their tinkling sound heard for the first time, dimly at first, and then very distinctly.
Within a year from their introduction, their shapes had also become visible. They were not material, but more like holograms. In time, we also learnt to communicate through feelings: I could emote with the content of their minds. I didn't quite know what to make of those encounters at first. I enjoyed the company of my shiny friends, especially once mum also left me. By the time I moved in with the Hughes, my sparkling friends had become my regular playtime and school-time companions. I tried to introduce Rufus and Letizia to them, but to no avail. My two friends couldn't see them and thought that my imagination had ran wild again. As they didn't want to upset me, they didn't really say anything. They pretended to go along with what they thought was a game I had made up. But the 'invisibles', as they called them, were real and very useful to me in those lonely years. They helped me to keep my mind away from sadness and onto the more productive joyful frequency that they called the Ancient Tune. This is the frequency that the planet emits. All living species on the Earth are born attuned to it, although humankind in its current state finds it difficult to detect this life-giving hum.
The 'invisibles' were happy creatures so their visits always filled me with a sense of peace and awe. They informed me that I was capable of travelling across dimensions with my mind and emotions, and that I could connect with the people and events, even in the future, that were milestones in the unfolding of my destiny. Their visits stopped when I was 12 and I got my first period. Perhaps becoming an adult coincided with the end of this particular method of communication between us. I wasn't worried. I forgot them at once. They faded out of my mind and into oblivion as my hormones were adjusting 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. My adoptive parents were now becoming even more attentive to my needs, and more caring. They wanted to ensure that my growing up was a gentle experience, and that I got the best education possible. I was a very good student and they wanted me to capitalise on my curious disposition. I would be sent to an excellent school for my secondary education.
I visited Scotland for the first time on a family holiday in 1980. We arrived in Glasgow by aeroplane. Ralph drove us 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. The lochs and valleys spoke of ancient times of war, weeping, doom. But the rolling mist above them whispered old words of love.
I was surprised by the effect that the landscape had on my emotions. I had expected to be bored. I was a precocious teenager back then, enamoured with 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 Sussex. Rufus and I had welcomed the news with elation. London would be a stone's throwaway, we thought, and with it, concerts, fashionable stores and a wealth of exciting, new cultural trends. 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. 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. I was intrigued. During our car journey, I could effortlessly hear the music of the plant devas. 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 that day. 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. Not with Rufus though. With somebody special, 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?
My biological parents, Laura and Lorenzo, had been in love with each other. But their love had burned their minds out too fast. I was the physical fruit of that initial flame. By then, I had learnt 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 was a call for freedom: my own. I was growing up and it was time to find the way to let my life develop along it course. Lord and Lady Hughes were right: Scotland felt like home, but the reasons for which it did still eluded me, and were not what my adoptive parents had in mind.
I moved to St Arnold's School for Girls the following August, with eleven other first graders. Ruby 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 grey skirt we had to wear at all times when we were on school grounds. She was delighted to see me and gave me a bear hug.
"You're not going to like wearing this, Kassie. None of us does. But if I can look so good in this", she gave me a twirl, "so could you".
She was a very attractive young woman now. Her shape was different from mine: her body was voluptuous and markedly feminine, in contrast with my child-like, waif-like limbs. Her beauty was earthy and sensual, while mine was diaphanous and otherworldly. It would always be like that. We were the gestalt of womanhood. The best thing about the year ahead was going to be the opportunity I had of spending 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 acknowledgement 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 never as yet talked about it. 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 hoped.
Ruby loved to travel and had been on the Orient Express the previous summer. Our parents didn't mind sponsoring her cultural eccentricities. I was curious 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. But the true reason for her journey, which she had revealed only to me, was that she was actually looking for something deeper than the university she would eventually attend. Why the Orient Express route anyway? What had called her in that mysterious direction? She needed to find out.
Despite her breath-taking beauty, she had no interest in having a boyfriend yet. She was aware of how interested boys were in her, of course. And perhaps she was also learning to manipulate their attention. But her main concern was with esoteric studies. She kept it a secret from our parents but not from me. She trusted that I was her ally. 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 spiritual 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 the following year. 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 ended stopping her journey and 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 any Hungarian and that she knew nobody there. She was going to live and study there. The signs were everywhere: she had found a room to rent in a building on Rózsa utca, the Street of the Rose, a clear Rosicrucian reference. The Secret Tradition that she belonged to on the inside was approaching her on the outside at last.
"I am an alchemist, Kassie, and I follow the map of my heart. 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. We must create a Magic Movement".
"Who are they? Have you find some in Hungary?".
"My path seems to be stretching in that direction. And yours must have taken you here for a reason too. I haven't met these people yet but I have a feeling that important lessons are waiting for me in Budapest. That city will be my learning ground. And since we are synchronised, 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 and pulled my arm to signal it was time to go back to the hall. She put her index finger on her lips. I nodded and slipped my bag across my shoulders. The roll was about to be called and we had to rush back to the entrance. It wouldn't have been a good move to be late on my first day.

#

Strange Events, January 1991
"There, Gwen, I can see him. He's by the cigarette machine and talking to Rufus. And now what? I'll go over and my bro will say hey, this is my sister, nice to meet you, she's lived in Scotland for a number of years, doing her finals at uni, studies medieval history, fond of horse-riding and hocus pocus, and this is her flatmate, 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. It was now January 1991 and the place had become the favoured 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 favourite platform to showcase her assets. For the most ambitious women, it was the ideal hunting ground for bagging oneself a boyfriend who was famous, or rich, or both.
Kassandra was on a mission that night. She had fallen in love with the most sought after bachelor in town, and tonight her brother was going to introduce her to him. But every single girl in the bar looked like a perfect clothes horse with big boobs, all long legs and wavy long hair. Kassie was feeling very 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 a first. 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 Gordon Steward 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 your high on coke or something. 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?"

Kassandra had seen Gordon on television a few weeks earlier, shortly before the Christmas holidays. She wasn't dating anyone at the time because her intention was 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 centre of her heart, where Gordon was pitching his tent.
Christmas would soon provide her with free time away from the books and her thesis on the Knights Templar in Scotland, and with the opportunity to hone her plans to seduce the famous golfing champion. She was sure that the Universe would assist her in her new romantic enterprise. But she was truly surprised when Rufus, during their family Christmas dinner, had mentioned Gordon as 'his mate'. Best festive present ever! She had feigned surprise and said she didn't know who this sportsman 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. Golf? 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 marvellous practice was a regular feature. With mates in common, the two young men had become friends as they were both at St. Andrew's University.
By the end of the Christmas dinner, before the Kimble, Kassie had already been informed that Gordon was one year her senior at twenty-four, not particularly interested in his engineering studies, a bit of a lad and a playboy, and soon to spend time in Edinburgh where he intended to buy property, in the fashionable Dean Village. Rufus wanted her beautiful sister to meet his new friend. 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 he was standing in front of her in Harry's Bar.
"He's the perfect specimen, 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're an enchantress and I'm yet to meet the man who can resist your charms. I share a flat with you after all, and the number of notches on your bedpost is quite remarkable. And you're not a midget, you're petite and fairly 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 in 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 day, Gordon was in town to finalise the purchase of an area with a building permit, near a cemetery 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 and she had proceeded to ask for exact coordinates of the place. The area, 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 his buddy's sister once the visit to Dalkeith Road 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 Jacuzzi tubs and an indoor swimming pool. Dalkeith Road was also the ideal location to go for walks on Arthur's Seat, the main peak in Holyrood Park, 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, models and the odd easy one 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 colour of honey. She smelled pure and expensive. While they were sitting close to each other in the taxi, he had to struggle not to give in and bury his face in her long hair.
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 were his ticket to one of the most coveted young women in Scotland. Perhaps he should 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 would always love 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 made herself out to be, the more pleasure he would get once he could enter her doggy style, and make her scream his name, begging him to give her some respite from the wave of orgasms shaking her to the core.
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 to sweep me away like a waterfall in 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 grey 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 whole room that colour a few months earlier, during a bout of misplacement activity whilst studying for my Master’s Degree. Blue would help my mind focus on the books, I thought, so I had varnished the floor boards "the colour of the Ionic sea", as I informed Gwen, one of my two flatmates. "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.
Many of my friends didn't like that: "Come on, Kassandra. You must be doing that on purpose. Do you think such affectations make you come across as different?" Gwen didn't share their point of view, so I could let my fondness of enchanting descriptions emerge in our conversations. My Welsh flatmate 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.
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 in the morning 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 colours 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.
Possibly, that dream had something to do with the large amounts of marijuana muffins my flatmates and I had baked and feasted upon the night before. But this thought had not entered my dream at all. Instead, I was floating down the stream of notes, sounds and pulsations that felt like an echo through my body. My hands were resting on my tummy, sensing the drone 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 centre 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 pulsation 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 grew more thunderous and sharper, filling the space between my cells with the distinct tinkle of triangles, cymbals and bells, the loudest bells in the Universe. My fingers kept busy. Climax was approaching. Whirlpools of metallic reverberations travelled 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. Its metallic shrieks sounded as sharp as an icicle collapsing on the snowfall-like silence of my bedroom. My hand abandoned the warmth of my thighs to silence the clock. 6 a.m. 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.
As I lit a stick of incense, I caught a glimpse of my face in the mirror above the fire place. Despite my bed hair and the dark circles around my eyes, I could see why men found me irresistible. That morning I also 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 centre of the Universe. "Thank you, Life," I said. High time was approaching to fulfil 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 first went to the toilet and then stopped in the kitchen to drink a glass of hot water with lemon. I thought my flatmates would be asleep for another couple of hours. But 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.
He lowered his eyes 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 disliked my boyfriend from the start. Gordon had entered my life almost two years before, bringing the rough throes of his material world into my flawless, ethereal precinct. He was a professional golfer and my antithesis by all means. I was an easy prey to his chiselled looks and boyish charms because, for all my depth, I was equally vain then. I was twenty-three when we met, and much of my current wisdom was only hinted at. It often pointed me in the right direction though it 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. My energy made him feel calm.
"You're a genius anyway, put those books down!"
I laughed and closed 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's still amusing 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.
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-like mirror made the room appear even bigger. A crystal chandelier was 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 Theosophical Society and other esoteric traditions. I had carved out a sitting room area next to the fire place. 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.
The yoga mat was rolled out on the floor. I lit the gas fire, slipped out of my pyjama 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. She always related her dreams to me. I had studied psychology as part of my undergraduate degree and developed an interest for dream analysis. My flatmate 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.
As we were reminiscing over the feelings associated with our dream, Brad, a black model from Chicago who was Gwen's new lover, surfaced from her room. Everyone was up unusually early that day. It transpired that we'd all dreamt what seemed to be the same dream. 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 colourful. 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 we had taken too much hash. 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. Sometimes I could even reach it through the power of my intention. That shared vision was fantastic news. I couldn't wait to speak to Dr. Boyd at the School of Parapsychological Studies. 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. I hoped this experience meant that the Arkadian Plan 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 odd occurrence: my boyfriend. 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. Gordon was my 'aspect out of balance', and the fact was daunting. I still hoped it might change. That was no time for sentimentality though: I had to get going. The snow was still falling and the city 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 Arkadian Plan was definitely unfolding.

Chapter Two: ITALY

CHAPTER TWO"ITALY"

Kassandra's Childhood

We are the Arkadian Angels. We are known to humans as the saints of all cultures and ages, as the gods and goddesses of ancient lore. Through many lifetimes, we have become self-realised. 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 to 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.
From our abodes in the etheric city of Elysia, we had always kept a close eye on Kassandra's developments on Earth. Unbeknown to her, right from the day when she was born we had been observing her. 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, her Blue Flame, which is the Key, would activate the cells of many humans into evolution. We could detect her easily when she was young and her mind was pure.
Kassandra's days on Earth had started according to the Arkadian Plan. She had chosen an incarnation that was programmed in such a way as to make her remember her True Identity in any place at all times, consciously or at least subconsciously. To facilitate her progress, we had opted to give her a good start in life, although her good luck would often be challenged by the Dark Forces.
While it was true that she was born 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 the most attractive woman the region had produced in recent decades. She loved power and status. Her father, Lorenzo, was a gentle soul with a sensitive temperament, if somewhat weak. Love was all that mattered to him, despite its impracticalities. Indeed, his parents had disowned him the year before Kassandra's birth because they did not 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 Kassandra's mother had gone into labour. The Magic 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 region. 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 mother had also timed her child's conception with great care and according to the esoteric knowledge 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 angelic visitors, with great ease now. We had clearly informed her that the baby she was carrying was indeed a girl, and a Magic Child. Laura had immediately thought of calling her baby Kassandra, in honour 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 thought that   spirits had been guiding her step by step. It had always been like that with her. Her life was in the hands of 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 Angel.
From the moment Laura had met Kassandra's father, the young Count Morgante, at a skiing holiday in the Aosta Valley three years previously, 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: her guru and the leader of the Circle of the Flame, the secret sect 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. The sect's dashing leader was an old acquaintance of ours, and we had also been keeping an eye on him for quite some time.
When Laura and Lorenzo met, the Count fell for her 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. But 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.
She 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 order to always get what she wanted. She was after best life possible, the most intensively active existence available. When she saw Lorenzo, she knew she had to marry him and become Countess Morgante. It was a shortcut to more power.
When Lorenzo proposed to her, the Morgantes refused to welcome her into their family. They couldn't believe that their son and heir had opted to tie the knot with a pauper. The couple married within a year in a small private ceremony, and set out to honeymoon around the world. 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.
Our Arkadian Council had also carefully chosen the geographic location of her birth, Turin. Piedmont's capital was immediately favoured due to the history and powerful energies that characterise 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 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 with London and San Francisco. It is no surprise that one of the most famous fortune-tellers of the past, Nostradamus, had once lived just a few hundred metres 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, which is now Piazza Statuto, 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 cover above a series of underground tunnels. The angelic statue at the centre 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 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", 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 quite interesting to notice how the fountain actually rises on Turin's contemporary 'hell', its sewage system. As symbolised by the statue, every human life does indeed hold the potential either choose to open the 'door to hell' or walk into the Garden of Eden, according to 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 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 statue encapsulated the Ancient Venusian Prophecy, and indicated that the struggle of humankind could soon be over, once the Star Seed was awakened in the human species. We, the Arkadians, do not 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 categorising things by opposites, as belonging to the Light or the Darkness. What humans don't know, and we do, is that nothing that happens in the Darkness is 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 was to cause on Earth.
The girl was born to be the Star Woman who would open such a momentous evolutionary dance. She was a Magical 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 characterised by all the luxuries available to a girl born under affluent circumstances. 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 lots 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.
The Magic Girl loved her English friend. 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 they were together, they would often argue over something she couldn't 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, 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 huge.
Lord and Lady Hughes had become very close friends of her mother's. 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 neighbours, especially when her dad was around. She had a feeling that her parents might decide that they didn't want to be married anymore. It was allowed now. 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".
Kassandra knew that her parents' souls were only playing games, but the little girl in her hoped that they would stop.
#
Darkness, May 1972

When Kassandra was four, she thought that she was the happiest girl in the world. She had already discovered her favourite 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 whispered words in her ears for as far as she could remember. When she was 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 playtime with her, although her father was often very helpful. The invisible friends had shown her the symbol for each letter of the alphabet, projecting images in the air around her. Kassandra had learnt them all in one afternoon, and by the following morning she could already read a story from her favourite 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 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 in 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 complete.
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, he felt a bolt of jittery energy encircling 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 a couple of magical seconds, and was interrupted by the arrival of his father, Lord Ralph Hughes. He 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 Lord Hughes was as much a kid as they were. Something else must have been on his mind.
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' 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?", she 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, she 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 follow 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 dad 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 behaviour. 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, her mother was in a car that was speeding on the motorway. Letizia's dad 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 the Morgantes' accountant, Carlo Giuliani, who had in turn contacted the Hughes. He knew that Laura and Kassandra would probably be visiting their neighbours.
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 a thread between life and death. Kassandra was meant to be on that crashed car too. Lorenzo wanted to take her away that weekend but their argument had made him change his plans. Laura felt guilty and in the deepest despair.
"Breathe deeply, Laura. 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.
"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 esoteric 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.
"Be strong, Laura. I'll be in the next hour".
Back in Arkadia, the High Masters were taken aback by the recent events brought about by the Dark Side. They were not sure if they should intervene as yet. Some of 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 they had expected. Could its power be stretched to embrace Kassandra at a vulnerable time? Was there anything that they could do to help Lorenzo? Could they change the course of history now?
Some of the Arkadians wanted to protect Kassandra. Others thought that this challenge would only make her stronger. Kyrius and Venusia chose not to disclose their feelings and thoughts on the matter, and protected their auras with a special etheric bubble. The Royal Couple understood that the element of surprise had been introduced in the life of Kassandra for the Arkadians to learn to return their minds to the One Source, 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. They trusted the girl to remember that only love was real and only love would endure, even when your her world was collapsing into debris. #
Bedtime Story, Spring Equinox 1973

Kassandra was five when we visited her one night. 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 and a number of Star-Seeds like Kassandra could incarnate on Earth in the five years before and after its appearance. From the Teleportation Room in the Diamond Lodge, we transferred our Light-Bodies to the girl's bedroom, where we turned invisible. She was lying in bed. A beautiful young woman sat on the chair next to her. They were mother and daughter, as their likeness and the tenderness of their interaction gave away.
"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 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. Stargazing was one of the gifts that he had left her with before his disappearance about one year before the night of our visit to her bedroom. He had also helped her to learn to read and write at the precocious age of three. She was bright beyond her years, as grown-ups often told her. She was also very curious.
There was another fuzzy presence in the room that night, perhaps of partial star stock. We couldn't perceive his energy in detail, but he was somewhat connected to our girl; he was her invisible friend. We ignored him and proceeded to attend to our more important deed. The bedtime story was about to start when we arrived. We had to make sure that this would be the story that the Magic Child needed to hear. We gathered behind Kassandra's mother as she opened her mouth to speak. Our thoughts became her voice as she started channelling 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. Sometime soon, the people of the Earth would come face to face with the otherworldliness of these creatures. These spirits' excitement filled the air. Their Light 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 trickled 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 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 blue, yearning Earth. It was calling to them. They could hear the dim hum of the Ancient Tune. That sound was very familiar. It was their direction. The lure 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)."
Kassandra stirred in bed. "These souls..., had they always been alive or was there a point in time when they were not?"
That was 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."
She sighed at the last two words. It was obvious that she was the right girl for our Plan. Her progress had been steady. In the past she could somewhat detect our forms and the content of our minds. Now she was engaged in a conversation with us. The tale she was being told was going in a direction she was familiar with. She looked reassured and calm. Through her mother, we caressed her hair as the story went on.
"These spirits understood they would not recall their origin as soon as they'd enter 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."
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 beautiful. However, beauty there is not necessarily what humans consider as fetching. It means being harmonious inside out. These spirits' outlines contain bright, reverberating cells that gather around their Cores and project into their fluctuating shapes. That's how these disembodied, Light-speckled Beings resonate to the most exquisite of frequencies. The sensation 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. 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 blissful, liquid awareness, which 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 to come to Earth is the realm of angels. These Beings are Pure Thoughts in the Mind of Creation. Their deeds are perfected to the point that the centres of the souls - their Core Signatures - are always following the ever-changing tides of the Life Force. 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 brain could only receive it subconsciously. Nevertheless, we continued to relate these memories of Kassandra's True Origin. 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 she would be ready to detect them, and embrace the message 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 – the idea of 'two' being a novelty in itself - and play a sort of 'hide and seek' with the Earth as their playground. They would try to make a new kind of creature. Their intention was to incarnate and create a fresh race of angels: human angels, perfected human beings made of a special flesh and blood, capable of self-healing and immortality by means of correct choice. They had to find the right partner in order to regain their full powers.
A handful of adventurous souls before them had started the trend. It took the physical merge of a man and a woman who could hold the Light of the Morning Star to make an angel. However, these highly evolved Beings didn't 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 were few and far between: one in a thousand Earth years. To make things worse, the results to date had been very short-lived: ascetic human creatures devoid of sexuality. Lucifer was one notorious exception, of course. After all, this ambitious pioneer was the angel who had started the Goddess Games on Earth with his famous fall. He made his home on Earth and decided to linger on; he is now 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 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 becoming 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. One among them 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 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 realised 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 very 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 in the queue on the Moon. Perhaps nobody had noticed her absence, she wondered. 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 groundbreaking 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-fuelled 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 just 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 dreamt that she was running with other children on a meadow in bloom, without a care in the world. A part of her was like any other normal child after all.

Chapter One: EARTHBOUND

CHAPTER ONE"EARTHBOUND"
Arkadia, Out of Time

Spring had come to the timeless land of Arkadia and to the mortal plane below it. Three Earth months before its transit across the face of the Sun, Venus was shining its serene light on the inhabitants of its neighbouring planet. The Goddess Games were already in full swing, and the Blue Flames in the hearts of the Ancient Venusian Settlers brimmed with the ecstasy of attraction. Their forms were made even more magnetic by the frequency of their Native Star. Soul Mates and Twin Flames were drawn to merge into Sacred Union, and no creature of the Earth was spared from feeling the tides of love.     
Alone in her bedchamber, the beautiful Arkadian Princess opened the window to welcome the warmth of the morning sun. Her sleepy green eyes were fixed on the cloudless sky as her fingers were running 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 hypnotic and elegant, like the contents of her mind. Her Venusian name was Meta, but the Arkadians now called her Lady Perfection, and fittingly so. She was one of the Ancient Founders of the Venusian Outpost that had long become their Earthly dwelling. Soon she may have to go back to Venus.
The birdsong's sweetness, so light-hearted and wild, sounded irresistible to the remnants of Meta's human heart. The mating season had started and she could recognise the familiar longing for physical love ripening in her body. She felt lonely, and that was a very human emotion. 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 was the clearest channel of the One Source there in Arkadia. 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 a most stunning woman too. She was watching her feathered visitors with great affection and curiosity. 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 the tides of romantic love. Now her connection with the One Source had to be constant. Longing was no longer necessary or advisable at the level of the Goddess Games that she had reached. That was what the High Masters kept telling her.
Meta was in her apartments 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 least the Princess's life had a purpose again, if not the one she was born to fulfil. In Arkadia, it was considered a great gift to feel the Power of Eternity to the extent that Meta could. So why wasn't she experiencing complete peace? She didn't know. 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 own mindscape. 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 King of the land, had decided to keep his only daughter in the sanctum of the Palace, where she could ponder over the Truth, especially if she were to be granted a farewell visit back to the Earth 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 Earthly lover. This had become necessary: her memories of that relationship were bringing low resonance to the Holy Precincts of Elysia, Arkadia's capital city. Of course, and to her father's relief,  his daughter'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 the chamber, shifting Meta's 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 recognised the familiar pitch and harmonised 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 on Earth.
"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 human being 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 or not she should be allowed to visit the Earth 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 instil 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 enamoured with the third dimension, the Earth's physical realm, as much as he and Meta still were. Not many Arkadians really understood humanity as well as the Royal Siblings did. And no, he had no intention to go back to Venus.
What Meta couldn't yet understand was that she 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, which still held on to those human feelings she had experienced in Oscar's arms. The Flame is the primordial thought in the Mind of the Universe that 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 Meta's lover had nested in her cells, ready to be cleansed and retrieved at the right time, until it had become refined and could resonate with the Arkadian Plan once more. Because, ultimately, love is always the name of the game.
"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 Lady Perfection... 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 plans 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 fuelled 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-fertilisation between 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 this 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 were matter existed in its potential state, as a perfect idea in the Mind of the Source. The island's very existence relied upon the perfection of the pitch 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 taking on more Venusian, more refined connotations. Its marks on the world 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, which 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 was shimmering in her chest in anticipation. She had been put in isolation. They had told her it was the most prized recognition, to be able to stand by herself in her own perfection, without the need for a Twin Flame. 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. 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. A knock came on the door and cut short her train of thoughts.
"Meta... I've come to accompany you to the Hall".
"Mother", the Princess said as she curtsied to the Arkadian Queen.
The auras of the two women merged into vibrant sapphire as their shapes dissolved and disappeared. Meta looked around and noticed that the backdrop had changed in the blink of an eye. Under the opulent vaults of the Diamond Lodge, her slight silhouette now stood alone in front of the Council. The Arkadian High Masters had reached their decision and she didn't even need to hear their words. Their thoughts were like a deep, low drone, throbbing harmoniously. She could sense them permeating 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.
Something had gone wrong with the Venusian Prophecy. She remembered now. Humankind hadn't evolved into the foretold cross-fertilisation with stellar genes. 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?
"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 any name yet. Her heart was pounding and pulling her towards her destiny again, to her life as a woman, a magic 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 him, 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. She was at a loss for words, numb and drained of all energy, though the Star Seed in her heart was like a sparkling wheel. Then silence fell on the Hall like a heavy curtain, to be then 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 final, disconsolate glance at those familiar faces.
"Goodbye, Arkadia," she said, before stepping into her past. "This time I'm going to be done with you."

# Hill of Tara, Spring Equinox 2012

The hard surface of a rock welcomed my landing. 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. But to me, it would always be Tara of the Heart, the site of the ancient choice, the hill that keeps the mark of our promise. The Tara Interdimensional Portal had been used for ages by Venusians and humans alike. The ancient people of Ireland were familiar with its true function. No wonder they had placed their tribes seat of power at this magical junction. 
I shook some dust off my clothes and rejoiced at the found-again solidity of my limbs. I jumped 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-traveller like myself. I wasn't concerned for the safety of my physical vessel. I feared that travelling 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. 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. I took out my iPhone. The calendar app had just sent me a reminder:
Meet Oscar, Tara, 21 March 2012, 14:30 PM.
All those years ago, I had summoned you here today, 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 realised. 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 Oscar... 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. I shouldn't 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 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 minds 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, with the environment, with the air around me. 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 I had also been very angry with you because you had hurt me to the core. 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 of the holes you had dug yourself into. And that's not the worst of it. The problem is that you don't seem to learn from your mistakes. You always come from 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..."
I looked at the sky and all around me. Fluffy clouds parted over the vast, sad backdrop. A ray of sunshine fell on the encircling pastures. Cows were grazing absent-mindedly. Everything reminded me of you. And the Earth was paying close attention to my actions.
"I'm here to retrieve the truth of 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. I bet we can find it. Bear with me, despite your attention deficit. 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 High Master's words are full of Power, and they can cut like a knife. So I choose mine carefully."
Up in the sky, an aeroplane commenced its descent over Dublin Bay and into the city's airport. You were on it, gazing out of the window with your headphones on. The second you felt my caress, your eyes turned the colour 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 powerful union of man and woman: two bodies into 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. 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 was a magnet. 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 aeroplane, 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." That's when my voice rose unexpectedly. "You are thinking about me too. You long to see me. Mirror, mirror of my soul... I can cast my glance everywhere from here. The call of eternity runs in my veins. Can you feel it?"
I paused and listened for an insight both within me and without me. I scrolled the valley with my glance, dwelling on the outline of Mellifont Abbey. Memories of us were jumping out of every corner. The rolling hills reassured me with their greenest silence. The air carried traces of the scent of your skin: musky, I could almost touch your taut muscles in the heat of passion. I shivered as my second sight detected you. My spirit started to absorb your essence. It became as vast as the sky.
"You've kept your word. You are approaching. And I have kept mine. I've come from the future into your past to take you with me or say goodbye. If you trust me, I will guide you down the alcoves of our adventure. This is our final chance."
A leaf from the fairy tree under which I was standing fell into the spring water. I watched it flow down the stream that runs alongside the road. The Earth's watercourses are the best channel to communicate emotions from soul to soul. The spell was cast, my message had been sent and you would soon be near me. I stood up and closed the Gate of Timelessness behind me. I was going to be human for a little while longer.
Light rain began to fall as I made my way to the cottages by the visitors' entrance. Polly and Letizia would be waiting for me in the coffee shop, over tea and scones. I loved the way they still found my appearances startling, although I always announced them in advance through telepathy. As I turned the doorknob, a blue and red butterfly landed on my hand. Message received. The signs were pointing in the right direction. All my powers came back at once and my soul turned gold again. It was just a matter of minutes now before you would turn up.
# Waiting for Kassandra

Kassandra's 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 at Tara. The three friends had a special connection with this ancient site.
Letizia had even baptised her firstborn here, according to the Goddess Tradition, on the Spring Equinox seven years earlier. The secret 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 the official christening. Now the trio would be back together, to rekindle their bond as daughters of the Goddess.
The two women in the shop were excited about that afternoon's rendezvous. It had been over a year since they had last seen their unconventional friend. She was always full of surprises. Like when, 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. In addition, she had done exactly that. Nobody knew where she was, or what she was up to. Kassandra was the most unpredictable person they knew. But they trusted her completely with her life choices. She walked the Way of the Goddess and played Her Games at top level. No matter how deep she may have ended in the darkness, love would always sway her back to the path.
This time she had left them in total oblivion of her deeds, and had given them cause for much speculation. Until a week previously, when she had contacted both friends telepathically, to let them know that she was 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.
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 casting her eyes to the cupcakes and scones on display; any turmoil in her emotions would 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-centred person in the world. And she's perfectly aligned with her True Identity. We can only, 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 sat 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 for them. She wished she could elicit that information in advance. The only response from the world outside was the sound of soft rain that was beginning to fall.
# Rehab Days, April 2011

He had seen her straight away as she went to seat under the porch in the rose garden. At first, he had tried to wait for a few minutes. Though his body may still have to be left hungry for her, at least the sight of her face could satisfy his eyes, if only for a stolen while. Kassandra was such a poignant vision of beauty. He wished he'd brought along his drawing pad and pencils. He couldn’t really resist that long, could he? So he went over and sat next to her.
"Is that your journal, Kassie? Are you writing about me?"
Kassandra looked up from the page and her eyes met Oscar's grinning face. She smiled and nodded at him.
"Well, yeah, I might have mentioned you here. It's a stream of consciousness exercise. I like to jot down the random thoughts that emerge in my headspace, 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 were flirting even under testing circumstances. They were supposed to feel guilty about their liaison, but of course, they didn'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 looked surprised, though deep down she wasn't. 
"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 put his hand on Kassandra's arm. When he touched her, their exchange of energy silenced 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 with her when she went on her afternoon walk. Oscar was the curious kind. She was certain that he would stop to enquire about the nature of her scribbling.   
"Here, have a look", she said. "This is the real me, not the woman that these doctors otherwise insist that I am..."
Oscar took her diary and read the opening paragraph.
I, Cassandra 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 said.
He lifted his sparkling eyes from the page to look at Kassandra who was now laughing.
"It seems that you always get what you want from me, Miss Morgante..."
Kassandra noticed that Oscar's aura was turning to gold too quickly. He wasn't yet ready to absorb the information contained in her words. His passionate, very human nature was still prevailing, which endeared 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.
Kassandra placed her hands on the following lines.
"Stop now, that's it. You get the gist".
The journal ended up on the bench. Their tongues started to explore the depths of their mutual longing. Rapture of the senses. Another day in purgatory. A good day nonetheless.# Kassandra's Journal

9 April 2011
I, Cassandra 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 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 fulfil 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. Why 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 spoilt 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 learnt to love you completely, despite the many obstacles on the way to the fulfilment 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. The ego has no use for the enlightened mind. But as soon as life's problems present themselves on the path, the human tendency is to lose sight of many aspects of our Souls. So they 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 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 then. 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.
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.

Lyrics by Jim Morrison, song by The Doors.

My name is Kassandra and I am a Magic Woman

My name is Cassandra Morgante and I am a Magic Woman. You have found me because I am your kin and your friend. You are now ready to tap into the deepest part of your heart that calls for healing. I call it your Star Heart.
I was born to fulfil a prophecy and help the evolution of our broken-hearted humankind into a race of immortal beings. Bear with me for a little while, if your attention can handle my words. I can talk to the deepest longings in a woman’s dreams. I can whisper seductive words into the ears of the toughest man, and make his fortress crumble. My Power is now fully fledged. I am invincible.
But it wasn’t always so. I used to be a spoilt 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 that of Oscar O’Leary, a spiritual artist and secret initiate into the mysteries of the Earth. When we met, he was a very complex, self-loathing yet generous man. In our encounter, and in the love we made and shared, a new humanity became possible: our own. This is the story of how I learned to love him completely, despite the many obstacles on the way to the fulfilment 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 have remembered 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. I hope I can engage your attention and let it take you there. My story is a bit of a short-cut.
There is nothing wrong with the yearnings of your heart, and that feeling of alienation that overcomes you sometimes. As soon as life’s problems present themselves on the path, the human tendency is to become lost to many aspects of our Souls. Time has the habit of wiping the memory of our True Origin from our mind. But rest assured: our hearts never let go of the Truth. 
My merge with my True Lover is a fairytale-like adventure in consciousness that can operate on many levels, but only if you allow it. 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 Shambhala, the Land of Gods and Goddesses. Look for parallels between my love for Oscar and how you felt in relation to the One Love of Your Life. May my story mirror your awakening to your heart’s call. This is the reason why I chose to disclose it.
    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 ends but just one beginning. Would you like to read my story?
Email the author: Piera
Have a love-filled day! :)

My name is Cassandra and I am a Magic Woman

My name is Cassandra Morgante and I am a Magic Woman. You have found me because I am your kin and your friend. You are now ready to tap into the deepest part of your heart that calls for healing. I call it your Star Heart.
I was born to fulfil a prophecy and help the evolution of our broken-hearted humankind into a race of immortal beings. Bear with me for a little while, if your attention can handle my words. I can talk to the deepest longings in a woman’s dreams. I can whisper seductive words into the ears of the toughest man, and make his fortress crumble. My Power is now fully fledged. I am invincible.
But it wasn’t always so. I used to be a spoilt 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 that of Oscar O’Leary, a spiritual artist and secret initiate into the mysteries of the Earth. When we met, he was a very complex, self-loathing yet generous man. In our encounter, and in the love we made and shared, a new humanity became possible: our own. This is the story of how I learned to love him completely, despite the many obstacles on the way to the fulfilment 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 have remembered 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. I hope I can engage your attention and let it take you there. My story is a bit of a short-cut.
There is nothing wrong with the yearnings of your heart, and that feeling of alienation that overcomes you sometimes. As soon as life’s problems present themselves on the path, the human tendency is to become lost to many aspects of our Souls. Time has the habit of wiping the memory of our True Origin from our mind. But rest assured: our hearts never let go of the Truth. 
My merge with my True Lover is a fairytale-like adventure in consciousness that can operate on many levels, but only if you allow it. 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 Shambhala, the Land of Gods and Goddesses. Look for parallels between my love for Oscar and how you felt in relation to the One Love of Your Life. May my story mirror your awakening to your heart’s call. This is the reason why I chose to disclose it.
    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 ends but just one beginning. Would you like to read my story?
"Cassandra in the Mirror" (ebook) and "Cassandra in the Mirror" (paperback)Email the author: Piera
Have a love-filled day! :)

obsession with physical appearance, today's youth and other thoughts

The current times' obsession with perfection is nothing else but the mass yearning for harmony expressed in a very childish manner. Look inside and follow instructions instead! ;)

Funny how today's idea of  'beauty' is so uniform and conformist, and how uniqueness is considered a 'wow' factor in the fashion industry nowadays. Things like a Roman nose or a gap in the teeth are considered the 'wow' factor.... little children, grow up! the world is full of this 'uniqueness'! how about different body shapes and styling better clothes by the way?  

Youngsters: women are not 'bitches' and it's not really cool to call someone that, or to be called that. It's stupid and immature and conformist, displaying a lack of imagination. Youngsters: you don't rule the world and you shouldn't even rule the publicity industry as nowadays your spending power and employment potential is equal to very little... Your 'reality tv' programmes are an insult to human intelligence and a waste of money. How about learning to become individuals in the meantime? Please get real because you look like caricatures these days... you're no longer in charge of your own identity.... try to get it back! :)

We are not yearning for outer perfection as a species, as clusters of cultures: we want harmony inside and out. Let's make our lives develop in that direction, our creations develop in that direction.

Just a  though!
Love
Cassie ;) 

obsession with physical appearance, today's youth and other thoughts

The current times' obsession with perfection is nothing else but the mass yearning for harmony expressed in a very childish manner. Look inside and follow instructions instead! ;)

Funny how today's idea of  'beauty' is so uniform and conformist, and how uniqueness is considered a 'wow' factor in the fashion industry nowadays. Things like a Roman nose or a gap in the teeth are considered the 'wow' factor.... little children, grow up! the world is full of this 'uniqueness'! how about different body shapes and styling better clothes by the way?  

Youngsters: women are not 'bitches' and it's not really cool to call someone that, or to be called that. It's stupid and immature and conformist, displaying a lack of imagination. Youngsters: you don't rule the world and you shouldn't even rule the publicity industry as nowadays your spending power and employment potential is equal to very little... Your 'reality tv' programmes are an insult to human intelligence and a waste of money. How about learning to become individuals in the meantime? Please get real because you look like caricatures these days... you're no longer in charge of your own identity.... try to get it back! :)

We are not yearning for outer perfection as a species, as clusters of cultures: we want harmony inside and out. Let's make our lives develop in that direction, our creations develop in that direction.

Just a  though!
Love
Piera ;) 

SEVEN NIGHTS

SEVEN NIGHTS
For seven nights I fell asleep in your arms and being in love became believable again... a possibility...
It only took a drink of your nectar, the Life-Force that dances within you... there I was, in love all over again, blessed by the Star of Venus....
You only had to skim my cheek with your fingers... and let that look colour your eyes of gold... your intention so obvious, your soul wide-open...
... all the walls of my heart’s fortress came tumbling down.... and my feeling was resurrected!

But then you had to go.
How do you always do this to me? Is it rhythm of your breath? The pitch and depth of your voice? The fire in your hips? The distinctive taste of your being? It must be your hands, your grip can capture me for eternity... Every single time...
Or is it the shape of our bodies when we join – our beautifully entwined limbs: complete and yet so hungry... The way we move together: raw and sensual, we belong to each other in moments like this – when time stands still and miracles are born under the Moon.
You always open the door to eternity to me. You make me feel immortal, you make my flesh and blood become gold. I can melt in your presence. The ego dissolves. I am back in the Garden of Eden. I: truly yours. You: completely mine.

And we are in LOVE.
All I can say is: I love you. And you say you love me, too. We say it without words. The Silent Language of the Heart. Always and forever. So we forget that I can also hate you, and how you can hurt me, too.

In your arms. In love. I become the little girl, the kitten, the one who writes things that make some cringe and I don’t care. Back to the core of me, vulnerable and pure. And what is more, I understand it all, And it’s ok. You’re my bridge across the most secret, holy garden of my heart. You are my little secret angel of surprise...
I couldn’t love you any more than this. Every cell in my body is singing your name. Every atom of me wants to become you. I couldn’t love any more than this as a woman. I could love you only a little bit more if only I were the Sun. Because my love for you is the Star of my existence.

Will love endure the test of time, when we die, when we leave this mortal coil? Will our moments of splendour –when our hearts expand 
and we gaze into each other’s eyesand smile the Silent Smile – change the course of our life stories? Who knows?

...do the Stars know?


I am too small, my sweet lover, to carry the memory of such beauty inside my chest.
‘This is the life’, you said. Sublime mortality. Sometimes. Hearts like stars. Eyes like the ocean.

Is this love too much for a lifetime? What can I do? How can I love you now? How can you love me even more? Can I build a temple to our love and light a candle every night? May the wind kiss your mouth when I’m not there... may it kiss you like I do...

Languid

Orbit

Veering

Emptiness

Can you see the full moon from your window tonight?

Think of me just for a second and remember our Star a little while longer ...

* * * * 

I THINK I KILLED THAT PART OF ME

I THINK I KILLED THAT PART OF ME
I think I killed that part of methat wasn’t mebut just a bundle of other folk’s ideasall about love and romanceand marriage and intimacyand family, belongingand relating and all that.A very serious,frightened,impossible to maintain part of me.
It happened in an instant.Though once upon a time I used to wear my armourUntil one nightof our fine nights of passion,When my attention crash-landedInto my heartAnd what it stands forAnd the kind of love-energy That it is.That I am.
Truly:It happened in a second,The second whenYou touched my cheek gentlyAnd lingered thereFor what felt like forever,Your glance so soft and open.
In that secondI knewYou had fully explored meAnd owned me then.You had the map of my being:You were that map.That’s when I saw youIn all your splendour,Then my heart melted like goldAnd goodbye was our medicine.
Now I can’t take the ‘man-woman thing’ seriously anymore.It’ll never be more beautifulThan your finger’s soft touchOn my cheekThat night.Sometimes I wishI didn’t killThat part of meThat night.

heartlessly

I wish I could at least be angry at you. I tried to be. My effort was cut short by your cowardice and so I’m left scattering my choked words to the seven winds … I can’t even be upset with you because you don’t know what love is, and so you don’t know how to love. You don’t even know the scope of your loss as you can’t recognise love even when it’s looking you in the eye, staring into your soul, the very soul you hide away from yourself and the world.I am made of love, I breathe it and give it freely, effortlessly. The palette of feelings at my disposal is a wide as the sky, it stretches over the rainbow. You remain a rock against all that I give you. You look at me as if I was a body, a pretty body that’s true, but only that. You think I’m crazy because I feel deeply and fearlessly, because I let myself feel love even when it hurts.I try to make myself so very small so that you and your stupid heart of stone can grasp me. But I’m too transient, I’m made of spirit and tears and songs of longing lovers, so you cannot seize me. I’m like a balloon that got away from your hand’s grip. You choose to hate me instead, lest you feel even just an ounce of regret.The world is full of loveless people like you. I know you’re only scared little children in men’s bodies, afraid of your vulnerability, afraid of death, afraid of admitting your limits. What can I do? I see you for who you really are. And you keep running away from me. But first you make sure I give you my love so that you can run away with it, proud of your theft.You’re not running away with my love. My love is here, in my heart, surprised at the fact that you didn’t want to let it grow with yours. Love is for sharing, not to be stolen. I am puzzled at the way you’re only running away from yourself and believe I’m the one who’s crazy for wanting to assert the right to love and trying my best to find some good even in someone who treated me the way you did: heartlessly.