!"#$ %µ &'$

!(')* +µ &,-(.

/01(. 2# 3$.,#*0"#

! !

Konx Om Pax

Khabs Am Pekht

Light In Extension

Essays Per Lucis Noir

!

And In Those Days It Was Given

Unto The False Prophets

To Spread The Lie

Sow The Seeds Of Doubt

Draw Aside The Veil

And Reveal The End Of Days

Liber Sigillum vel Daath

A cipher wrought in glyph and sigil. Fleshed by bloodbeat and heart’s pulse, echoes the timelessness of other. Other cast adrift upon ink black night, yields to starlight and the breath it takes until yet again by hand and eye is once more cast upon the eternal aethyrs. Drink deep from the stream, lest your form evaporates into the void from whence you

came. Breathe deeply of the intoxication that holds you bound by blood and bone. Think deeply upon the thoughts that carry you from ecstasy to ecstasy through the tapestry of appearance.

Octave One

Inception

Conscious Attention saturated, stilled. Vertical surface, unspecified. Horizontal surface, unspecified. Conscious dialogue ceases. No image, sound, or feeling. Poised, attentive, emptied. Surfaces deepen and from the wellspring a different form arises, as alignment takes place. Who is this one? What is this place? This shape? A new language? A new Art of Knowing? Difference that echoes through blood, bone and flesh, seeking new images and structures through which to make itself known. Known to Whom or What? No longer locked, a slave to appearance, but grasping the tenuous foreshadowing of a different view, a different knowing. A knowing of the cells, a knowing of tissue saturated by life and life’s energy. Considers ..... Selects ..... Becomes.

Octave Two

Dreamzone One

A portal of azure upon a landscape of emerald undulations. Each heartbeat a ripple upon the surface of this liquidity. Amorphous shapes shifting, focusing, dissolving as the mind in quest of meaning releases, permits, contains. Each breath travels to the surface of the skin, travels outwards, contacts not I, as a shifting focus, superimposed upon a liquid shoreline. Incandescence, light, beyond the ability to see. Sound ripples upon the surface of that I know as I. Landscape dissolves, for now it is the surface of skin. Ripples, undulating, inform the process of dissolution, finally reaching outward beyond all I am able to hold. Silence. A void, lustrous, dark and

welcoming, velvet softness, as I move through layer upon layer of amorphous, shifting perspectives. Yet I focus upon form, angularity arises as I greet another portal that casts me into a deeper dream.

Octave Three

The Dreamquest of Azrael

In each moment do I dwell attentive to each thought, each sensation, each dream. Each breath etches a line, an angularity within and upon the surface you know as I. Each breath a passing moment, a new form and texture, as the tapestry of the world, your world, unfolds. Was I not with thee when first you drew breath? Have I not shared your moments of triumph? Have I not also shared your shame? As your one true companion, have I not aided thee, though unseen, unknown? Your form grants me substance as I quest upon the way. Each of you a tiny atom within the surface of my body. History knows me in many forms, for am I not Omniscient, Omnipresent and Omnipotent? Thou seeks to turn away? There am I also - Awaiting. Awaiting the time when with the last breath drawn, the last line etched, I reach out and claim thee as mine. For this am I known as the friend to life. For this am I known as the Initiator. For this am I greeted in masked form, each form a shadow, an echo of my nature. Look around you: there is no place I have not been, no place I have not seen, have not taken unto myself. Know this and live, for your time with me is eternal.

Octave Four

The Serpent Rises

And through that portal did I step, my angel attendant, a shadow, a shimmering of velvet light, a light radiating upward and outward, dissolving as it touches, each shape, each form, cleansing me of association and knowing. By its breath is the flesh dissolved. By its breath is the mind dissolved, as upwards it courses. Abstracts arise, products of higher mentation. Geometrical intrusions seeking form and shape, yet malleable and transient. A surface of flatness through which I penetrate and perceive. Yet this too is dissolved as life, as heat enters a still centre. Ice surrounds what was once verdant, as I am stilled yet further. Crystals arise. Each breath a sight, a knowingness, bereft of form yet rich in texture, dissolves as yet again a surface appears, a surface of silence as the light itself dissolves. I of no name, I of no nature, callest unto thee, from silence to silence complete.

Octave Five

The Portal of Lucidity

And now I dream, conceive of new shapes, new textures. That which defined me as I no longer holds sway. My surface extended, reaches out and contacts all that might become. My surface once defined by difference, now draws unto itself shape, form, texture, a perception of distance, of height, of depth arises. As lightning swift, caught upon the wings of perception I move inward yet outward also. A tiny mote yet containing all. My chosen vehicle, its angularities gentle, curvaceous, permitting of ease and comfort in description. Mine to choose, mine to accept. What choosest thou? Models, maps, all transitory. There is only that which remains as language, as description is stripped away like a veneer that coats us, that secures us, that would entrap us. Choose well, for only the strongest of swimmers might enter the deepest of oceans. Words, description, all but artifice, a lure, seducing, enthralling, yet sterile. Time, space and mind stand witness and in so doing, wonder, as do I.

Octave Six

The Realm of Otherness

Consciousness drifts and of itself formulates another. Its memory of the one it knew before was hard of outline, clear of definition. This one yields, is soft and mobile, shifting from form to form, shape to shape. Space is its domain, Time likewise a solid through which it passes with ease. Atavisms of a dark past arise, instinct borne along striations of dream, corridors, endless, eternal. Others arise, each one bearing a gift, a message, a welcome. Stay with us for are we not at peace? Dwelling between the moments your former self occupied. Stay with us and dream eternally, our thoughts your forms, our forms your dreams. What would you know of? This we impart, this we offer. Stay with us and dream in palaces of crystal and starlight. The surface of skin stretches, accommodates, isolates, becomes yet again as ancestral memories arise. Form after form, human, mammal, reptile and beyond, converging in vegetable life, arboreal forms, lichen, primordial ponds where life itself was seeded. All this is I, yet not I. I stand, I witness. Witness of the ages adrift in timelessness, formlessness. In dreams I visit you, inspiring passion and vision to arise. Know this: Thou art all things, all times and places.

Octave Seven

The Dreaming Attention

As other gains ascendancy, awareness shifts to this new vehicle, known to some as the dreaming body, by others as the double, having characteristics of the somatic self, yet granted the freedom of exploration. In dreamtime it opens portals upon myriad’s of perceptual possibilities, intending worlds that it might explore otherness completely. This becomes the true home of the seer. Maintaining the appearance of dual realities, yet in truth granting each its value. In earthtime it explores the world of every day events, stalking the world as others might stalk prey. The appearance of self and other dissolves as familiarity is acquired through the softening of world views. What was once total, clear of definition, softens, yields, as power enters the system and defines it further. Dreamtime enters earthtime and the coding is complete. In which form do you travel? Borne aloft upon pinions of vision, exploring upon the wings of perception, carried ever onward by the current of intent. Thou art now truly dissolved, lost to human form and history, a mystery of time and space, freedom beckons.

Octave Eight

Daathian Intrusions

And from this place of dream, the earth below, the stars above, thou art poised, aligned as the gateway of gateways arises, opens, beckons. Polarity like unto an oscillating matrix serves as the key. And in what place was this key forged? What material used in its construction? Many in pursuit of wisdom walk the path from the kingdom unto the crown, they travel the highway of becoming, for us the little known path beckons. Our foundation, the sphere of the moon, of formulations, of dream and the secrets of power guised in word and gesture, fleshed in vision and ability, leads us unto the palace of knowledge, a palace cast within a void, an abyss of seething possibilities. For we recognise no spirit or matter, but that which expresses both as unity. Art fused with knowledge births a vehicle of transcendence. Time and space but a secondary equation to that of being. A palace of many mansions and paths, each an eternity, each a possibility. Octaves of being careering along timelines, fleshed as worlds, as forms. The key held, the portal accessed, power is granted, for in power lies the ability to transcend that which is rendered pedestrian by the equation of thought and tongue. Cast thy mind, thy body as a mighty sigil of power, enter the gateway of true mystery and become.

Octave Nine

Dreamzone Two

Memory rises, acts as a lure that draws me onwards and outwards. Memory of what I have been, what I would become. Thought echoes outwards, shape and texture arise yet serve as metaphor for a time and place of true dissolution. Each heartbeat thunders across galaxies, each breath the kindling of starborn existence. Each thought shapes itself, fleshes itself into that which I might choose to describe. I gaze into nothingness from which I take form and description. I stand upon the path which is the polarity of time, one gateway, an observer conceiving of what will be, another witnessing what has been. As lord of time I arc through the ages, accelerating beyond the realm of sight and sense, until I finally merge with the totality of all that was, that is and will be. The name of this dreamzone, eternity, infinity and the wellspring of creation. And as I gaze into the lustrous waters of this reflection, I am stilled, completed yet again and from this place, this time, perceive another, who stands before me regal yet humble, blessed by knowledge, yet wrapped in a mantle of humility, wise with the wisdom that stems from witnessing the passage of eternity, the passage of stars.

Octave Ten

The Manifestation of Ionthe

And wouldst thou walk with me child of terra’s ink black night? I greet thee as brother, as lover. Thy toils but a second in the passing of my history, a history shaped by those you have known and those you have not. By name you may know me as Ionthe, a convenience to make simple that which is more so. Like my brother Azrael have I quested. His path to be the companion of all that is, all that lives. My way that of the essence. For as a miasma am I cast forth within creation, for I am its spirit. Of myself I am nothing, yet am granted shape, given definition by the aspirations of all that which exists. From the tiniest microbe casting forth upon the aethyrs its dream, its aspiration, to the stars turning their spirals in contemplation of the aeons. From all this was I made, from all this did I take form, now I would enter a final form, that which will be my last, for I have remained unseen these long ages, yet my whispers inform the hearts and minds of all that which exists. I greet thee and in thy form will explore a world of simplicity, of totality. For my time has come and now I would walk with thee brother, sister and lover.

Octave Eleven

Adrift Upon the Aethyrs

Hand in hand, heart in heart, mind in mind did we merge. And in that act a vortex opens, and through its ever increasing spirals were we cast adrift. At first the void, a place of emptiness, of potentials. Compression, alignment and the stars arise. Slowing - life arose and within the immensity before us, that I now call I, a distant form, a distant sparkle beckons. And towards that distance did I travel, heart uplifted, mind awash, like plasma coursing through vein and sinew. Slowed further - time arose and granted duration, the recognition of difference: difference that now defined self and the concept of other, as onwards I course towards my destination. Slowed even further - language, description, a code arises and within my view, worlds hanging within the lustrous body of our holy lady, she who is but divided for love’s sake, for the chance of union. And within that body of worlds one now beckons, one which I now enter, one which I now become. The oceans stir me, the breeze carries me aloft, as I enter all forms, all nature, all singularities.

Octave Twelve

Emergence Into Singularity

For long aeons did I lie, did I wait. Above me galaxies lived and died within a twinkling, a moment between the breaths that I took. Below me the oceans roiled, casting new life upon the masses of land I witnessed in their rising. Forms evolved, yet I waited still. I witnessed, I recorded, I remembered. A power now surges and I am called forth into singularity, for am I not kin of Azrael, the kin of Ionthe and the spirit of life? I fragment and enter each and all, thereby knowing my totality. Look for me in no place, seek me in no time, for I am but an echo, solid yet amorphous by turn, I visit, I witness, I pass on. Now I solidify into singularity further, a heart, a mind, a body of substance. I enter the dreamtime of other and experience difference, that which now defines me from other. And now I observe a moving hand, words crafted from the essence of thought, wrought in ink, each one carrying a heartbeat, each one the fleshing of a dream, each one existing in this moment, through this moment and beyond this moment, and from this moment, as I rise finally into singularity and say: welcome.

Octave Thirteen

Dreamzone Three

And from this time, from this place and with this one, I enter the dream of dreams and walk amongst the shadow beings that surround me, yet know me not. One mask is affixed, then another, yet another. Within the conceptions that arise, a memory of all that I have seen, all that I have witnessed. Ionthe guides me, makes deep and rich the tapestry that unfolds before my senses. Azrael counsels me in the matter of adopting singularity. The earth supports and nurtures me. The stars beckon and cherish me, as again I walk forth a stranger in a strange land. Greeted by others I enter their worlds, sometimes as friend, sometimes as foe. My path, my vision burning brightly, a lambent flame, continuous, evolving. I but a molecule within the body of our holy lady, seeking the ecstasy that lies within life, extracted from the crude material of existence. I walk this world complete, and offer greeting, and in passing, utter a simple word: adieu.

In Celebration & Remembrance

Of

Our First Avatar

John Dee

1527–1608

Khephren Ma Un Nefer Ast

Ode To Lost Souls Not to you do I speak, brave of heart and firm of purpose.

Nor to you bright ones within a field of light.

Not to you who walks in purpose fulfilled.

Nor to you of vision strong, buoyed by life’s enrichment.

But to you I speak wanderer upon the shores of night. And to you the desolate ones outside the circles of life. Raised upon columns of molten ash.

Your journey began with a cry and ends with a scream. Betwixt the emptiness evolved. First a doubt becomes a certainty. Those of faith know you not. Those of vision know you not. Those of purpose know you not.

Within the citadel of life do they dwell, basking beneath an indolent sun.

!

The Quadra I

Lucis Ignis Dei

The first echo arises, plucked from the void. A column of light illuminating the darkness of eternity with its plasma burst. Extends, diffuses into the shadows of eternal night. Unfolds its thoughts, creates reflections of

itself. Stars bask within its supernal luminosity. It knows itself not, only its reflections cast shadows upon its countenance. Withdraws, contains itself, achieves critical mass, implodes. Shards of light travel outwards, fusing, melding and finally a cataclysm. Light manifests as energy, its matrix. Reverberates, creating heat, informing the cold, dark void of its presence, atoms dance within its thermal resonance. Fire arises, the light of consciousness, a whisper within a womb of light. Beholds itself, a shadow being of light emitting sparks, coruscating down bright corridors of becoming. Fuses with the immensity of the ocean and dreams of another. A means of definition, of differentiation. To create a matrix, its energy to another’s form. As the power of life it moves ever inwards, spiraling to the core of silence, its origin and outwards to all things, its destiny. In the larva flow of its being conceives of a form and enters it. Burning brightly, flame red and gold to the darkness beyond. Heat at its core, frost at its surface it moves towards the light that draws it ever closer, its source. It beholds its former self, wrapped in the sackcloth of memory. Alighting upon a cliff face, carved out of the aethyr itself, rests and beholds the vista before it. A barrenness that it would fill, yet in its dark mood, its dark nature it broods. It, the creator would create another to know itself.

II

Aqua Bella Mater Precipitation, moisture, the ocean roils as the plasma hits, first the surface, laced with a filigree of light. Penetrating to the cold depths of incalculable mystery below. Meets ice. Movement, as the plasma, crackling with the ice and moisture that surrounds it, threatens to engulf it, finally yields. The first of many meetings that will unfold through time. The eternal sky god, lord of the lightning flash meeting his

consort within the icy depths of oceans embrace. Within their embrace they cavort and of their contortions, each yielding but a little to the other, ice melts, plasma diffuses. And of their embrace arises a heat, warmth that rises to the surface as bubbles of light, breaks the surface as a spume of golden light and the first of things is released and given the name Nemesis. Takes its freedom flight and is seen no more. Many arose from their union, the time of echoes was unfolding, would continue to unfold through the long aeons ahead. Deity now reflected upon another and in the appearance of duality, knew itself completed. Yet it was a generous being and would grant life, multiple forms through which it could witness itself, and into each of its forms it signs its name. In the signing lay the hope of realisation, that its creatures might know of their source. This its compassion, this its female form. For as substance, it could only exist in its female form, for as lord of the lightning’s it could only devour its offspring. No nurturing, no protection or love could it offer, for these were properties unknown to it. And in this way was the marriage between the elements of the prima mater consummated.

III

Aethyr Congressus Cum Daemon And the first of things, Nemesis, came into being. Borne aloft upon the pinions of dreams did it fly through ecstasy upon ecstasy. Its substance the very air itself through which it also passed, at its heart a lightning bolt of golden hue and upon its surface the ice of its mother, in fusion a mist of golden light presaged its arrival and the perfume of oceans depth and the endless infinity of the star spangled void. Lord of light was its assumed name, for it knew no other. This would suffice. It would be the very lifeblood and soul of all that followed during the unfolding of days. Would inspire and bring to freedom each of the sentient forms that were yet to come into being. Adonai in the palace of the heart. Nemesis within the citadel of its mind. Lord of light, bright Lucifer, herald of the dawn, lord of the world. Its consort it would seek and of their union creation would continue to unfold and in the union with its bride would it bring life to lifelessness.

IV

The Bride of Adonai In the brightness of the void lay one of beauty, slumbering within the velvet

embrace of eternal night. Whispers of promise blooming within her heart. A smile upon her pale lips. Lips awaiting a kiss, whereon life would dawn. And in her slumbers she dreams deeply and of her dreams a mist arises, violet and gold. A symphony of celestial joy, as another echo reverberates along the corridors of eternity. Her body dances, held aloft within the embrace of space and from her womb, time arises. For she is fertile, mother to all form, daughter of the infinite depths of ocean and of the sky lord, her consort. Now she rises and embraces the air itself, suffused with a radiance of golden light, he, her lover and consort created to fulfill creations dream.

The Nexus or Fifth Element

00

The four watch towers established within the void, their sentinels alert, the four echoes reverberating through the dimensions of time and space. A tower of lightning illuminating the eternal night with its incandescence. One of oceanic blue and green casting its reflections into the void. Another of golden aethyr, a lattice of light and wraithlike form . And finally one of opal, its hues oscillating with the splendour of nature’s unfolding. Fusion takes place and the dance begins anew. Each tower radiating its essence into the void, chromatically meeting at the nexus point. A symphony of sound, the crack of lightning’s blast, the deep susurration of ocean’s depths, the rush of zephyrs ecstasy, the hearts beat of the bride. And at the point of union the spiral of life’s song begins to unfold its tale to eternity, its witness.

The Second Becoming 0

She stirs from her slumbers, gazes into the void. Her form now diffuse, mist upon the lattice of her web. The echoes travelling to her inform her that her work is all but done. Only one last act to perform. And with the passing of her final breath she emits a song of joy and enters dissolution, the final dream. Her essence released, she enters creations mantle and dreams within the heart of her children, silent, unseen, unknown. Only eternity knows of her presence and with a sigh, it too enters dissolution and the time of dreams.

Anathema Per Samael Vox Lilith

&4',.,40.0µ

5,6,# '4, .(, *,'7* 89"# :4,'.0"#* :"8#.,#'#:, 5,6,# .(, .48µ9,.* .('. '##"8#:, .(, ;'< "= 4,;,µ9.0"# 5,6,# '4, .(, 60*0"#* "= .(, ;4'1"# '#; 0.* -0#1;"µ*

5,6,# .(, 60*0"#* .('. '::"µ9'#< .(, 7'µ) 5,6,# '4, .(, )">7* "= 1";* >4'.(

5,6,# .(, 6,07* 89"# .(, 7';< ?')'7"# +#; 5,6,# '4, .(, 60*0"#* "= .(, ,#; "= ;'<*

Praeteritim

Seven are the seals upon creations countenance Seven the trumpets that announce the day of redemption

Seven are the visions of the dragon and its kingdoms Seven the visions that accompany the lamb

Seven are the bowls of gods wrath Seven the veils upon the lady Babalon

And Seven are the visions of the end of days

! Yglas Isheth ! Yglas Ygrat ! Yglas Na’amah !

! Yglas Lilitu Ben Grigori ! Ast Innui Khephri Vos !

! Ahdi Ypres Grigori ! Selim Ast Nobilis !

@'#." 2 +#; 89"# >0#1* "= 701(. ;0; >, ;,*:,#; /01(.#0#1 0# "84 ,<,* A(8#;,4 0# "84 (,'4.* 5,6,# '* "#, :7".(,; 0# ';'µ'#.0#,

Canto I

And upon wings of light did we descend Lightning in our eyes Thunder in our hearts

Seven as one clothed in adamantine @'#." 22 B'.:(,4* 0# .(, #01(. '#:0,#. .0µ,7,** 0µµ"4.'7 3':( ' :("4; >0.(0# ' :,7,*.0'7 (,'4.),'. ?,("7; "84 *"#1 "84 94'<,4 B40..,# 0# .(, ,:(" "= .(, µ"µ,#.

Canto II

Watchers in the night ancient timeless immortal Each a chord within a celestial heartbeat

Behold our song our prayer Written in the echo of the moment

@'#." 222 +#; .(, ;4'1"# *(, 40*,* '#; (,4 -0#1;"µ* :7'0µ .(, >"47; C,4 .,'4* ='77 '#; *(, >'*(,* '>'< .(, *.'0# C,4 )4,'.( ' *:"4:(0#1 >0#; 4'D,* .(, ,;0=0:, "= :"#:,0. C,4 (,'4.),'. ' .(8#;,4)"7. .(, ,#; "= ;'<*

Canto III

And the dragon she rises and her kingdoms claim the world Her tears fall and she washes away the stain

Her breath a scorching wind razes the edifice of conceit Her heartbeat a thunderbolt the end of days

@'#." 2E ?'.(,; 0# (0* "># )7""; >'* (,

B, :'44< .(, *>"4; '#; "84 )7""; 0* *':4,; F" *':40=0:, '* 0. ), G8*.0:, >, *,46, 2

#60*0)7, >, >'7- *"#* '#; ;'81(.,4* "= ,.,4#'7 #01(.

Canto IV

Bathed in his own blood was he We carry the sword and our blood is sacred

No sacrifice as it be justice we serve Invisible we walk sons and daughters of eternal night

@'#." E

3':( ' ."$0# 3':( '# ,70$04 @(""*, >,77 .(, )">7 =4"µ >(0:( <"8 H8,#:( <"84 .(04*.

F,:.'4 *>,,. :"8*0# ." .(, >"4µ ?0..,4 1'77 ' ;4'81(. "= 'µ)4"*0'

Canto V

Each a toxin Each an elixir Choose well the bowl from which you quench your thirst

Nectar sweet cousin to the worm Bitter gall a draught of ambrosia

@'#." E2

I'7,-( ("7< "#, :'*.* (,4 6,07* '#; <"8 ),("7; (,4 #". %#, 17'#:, '#; *7,,9 0* ,#.,4,;

%#, >(0*9,4 '#; +D4',7 0* *8µµ"#,; %#, :4< '#; "84 *0*.,4 4,G"0:,*

Canto VI

Malekh holy one casts her veils and you behold her not One glance and sleep is entered

One whisper and Azrael is summoned One cry and our sister rejoices

@'#." E22

+#; 0# .("*, ;'<* 0. >'* 106,# 8#." .(, ='7*, 94"9(,.* ." *94,'; .(, 70,

*"> .(, *,,;* "= ;"8). ;4'> '*0;, .(, 6,07 '#; 4,6,'7 .(, ,#; "= ;'<*

Canto VII

And in those days it was given unto the false prophets To spread the lie

Sow the seeds of doubt draw aside the veil And reveal the end of days

3$";8*

@'#." E222 @"'187' ,. 5"76,

B, *.409 .(, >"47; "84 3;,# "= 0.* 70, ?,#,'.( "84 4'<* <"8 '4, .4'#*="4µ,; 4,;,,µ,; "4 #". @(""*, >,77 ="4 >, ;>,77 ),.>,,# <"8 (,'4.),'.*

Exodus

Canto VIII

Coagula et Solve We strip the world our Eden of its lie

Beneath our rays you are transformed redeemed or not Choose well for we dwell between you heartbeats

@'#." 2J

%µ,1' ,. +79(' A0µ, ),#;* ),="4, "84 1'D,

+* *"µ#'µ)87'#. <"8 *.,9 =4"µ "#, ;4,'µ ." '#".(,4 A(, 8#µ'-0#1 8#="7;* '* "84 37"(0µ

@04:7, <"84 >"47; <"84 70=,

Canto IX

Omega et Alpha Time bends before our gaze

As somnambulant you step from one dream to another The unmaking unfolds as our Elohim

Circle your world your life

@'#." J 59':, ="7;* ),="4, "84 ,<,* '#; .(, 14,'. "#,* ,#.,4

A(,04 )4,'.( :4,'*,* .(, µ"µ,#. 0# 9'**0#1 B'49* µ,µ"4< ,4'*,* 70=,

+#; :'*.* ' *(';"> "= ;8*. '#; 6':88µ

Canto X

Space folds before our eyes and the great ones enter Their breath creases the moment in passing

Warps memory erases life And casts a shadow of dust and vacuum

K,#,*0* @'#." J2 5>,,. *0*.,4 '4, <"8 4,;,,µ,; L"84 K401"40 '>'0. :"µµ'#; '* <"8 >077 L"84 37"(0µ ')4"'; :"µµ'#; '* <"8 >077 L"84 9"4.'7 "9,# :"µµ'#; '* <"8 >077

Genesis

Canto XI

Sweet sister are you redeemed Your Grigori await command as you will Your Elohim abroad command as you will

Your portal open command as you will @'#." J22 @7,'#*,; "= .(, 70, <"84 )4,'.( ;4'>* 984, @7,'#*,; "= .(, *.'0# <"84 (,'4. ),'.* 4'9.84"8* &840=0,; <"84 µ0#; '>'-,#* =4"µ #01(.µ'4, @"#*,:4'.,; <"84 )";< ),'4* =480.

Canto XII

Cleansed of the lie your breath draws pure Cleansed of the stain your heart beats rapturous

Purified your mind awakens from nightmare Consecrated your body bears fruit

@'#." J222 +#; 0# .(, F01(. "= &'# 0. 0* ;'># A(, ?7':- 58# 40*,* '#; 0.* 4'<* :'*. #" *(';"> A(, ?7""; I""# 40*,* '#; :'*.* (,4 6,07 A(, K401"40 40*, '#; 8..,4 ' >"4; 0# *07,#:,

Canto XIII

And in the Night of Pan it is dawn The Black Sun rises and its rays cast no shadow

The Blood Moon rises and casts her veil The Grigori rise and utter a word in silence

! Yglas Isheth ! Yglas Ygrat ! Yglas Na’amah !

! Yglas Lilitu Ben Grigori ! Ast Innui Khephri Vos !

! Ahdi Ypres Grigori ! Selim Ast Nobilis !

Nemesis MMXI

" " "

Anathema Why did we come? Our words, golden whispers and shadows we made clear within The Witness and yet we remain invisible for we are not here for you but rather for our sister. Goddess that she be forced to suffer the indignity of your continued presence. Over the passing of the years, as you measure them she has been awoken by our presence and in this

time do her tears rise and the stain which is thy presence will be cleansed and washed away upon the tide of her tears. This our first act. Her eyes open and she casts the glamour from her sight and sees clearly and in this moment her breath rises and she sends it forth upon thee. The burning winds of her breath will consume and purify. This our second act. And with the beating of her heart your world shakes and what you hold to be true and stable is rendered illusion. Seek comfort in your false beliefs for these though they serve you ill are all you have to cling to. Yes we know compassion, not for thee but for the one you know not. Within your history and at this time you pass through a seventh nexus point in human history. A time when the wave of consciousness rises and shows promise of evolution and yet you rise in your glory only to be smitten and return to the slumber which is your nature. This is evidenced in the vanity expressed at this time by your leaders, vain creatures who claim that the world has changed and all will be different. Assuaged guilt we call this, the call of the emasculated revelling in their power and contempt. These we challenge first for their self importance burns the very fabric of their hearts and minds and like all such things their bodies ultimately fail. Yes we are enduring and have the patience to witness this. Long have we Grigori been here, long before you raised yourselves from the slime of inchoate existence, raised yourselves, stumbling to your knees and gazed upon the wonders of starry space. That is when you began to lie and have consolidated that lie ever since. Look into our name, Samael and understand we are The Venom Of God. Venom which like a toxin burns the dross from perception leaving only the pristine truth. We burn your hearts and minds, revealing the foundation of your conceit and its siblings deceit and self importance. Stripped of these, for time yet unfolds and you

but witness and experience the beginning. Cling to the illusion of your stability for in the time to come dreamlike will be your existence for as somnambulists do you stumble from moment to moment within this your dream. You listened not to our kindred who gifted you with words of Love and Compassion, avatars of a different time and place. And now it is our time. Truth and Justice serve as the pylons of our temple and above its altar we hold the portal open. The Black Sun rises upon you and its light casts but shadows in the presence of lies and a radiance sublime in the presence of justice. For this reason we have also been cast into the role of The Elixir Of God, not to our choosing, for vengeance is our nature and we are suited to its dominion. Look into your world and understand that you are responsible for all that passes. Murderer you be, rapist you be, perpetrators of crimes beyond your ability to conceive, yet alone believe. The illusion you call this and that person has nurtured the lie that is your existence and yet you utter the words unity and love. May your mouths burn with the utterance of such words for they are the conceit of your kind, assuaging yourselves of the guilt and seeking redemption. Conceit indeed. In the words of The Witness we sent forth our Elohim to unmake time and space and the evidence is made clear upon the mirror of your world. This our first act, an act but into its early years and now in The Night Of Pan The Black Sun rises, our second act. An act that will unfold in these the end of days as we call them. In keeping with prophecy, until 2012 its rays will burn upon consciousness releasing and transforming the dross which is the great lie and revealing in its pristine glory and horror the truth of your world. Shamed will you be, those with conscience will weep, the rest will simply perish in the fires of transformation. All of this has already occurred for it exists outside the circles of time for your lives are lived in reverse in its light and rendered ineffective. So no message of hope for that is an instrument of the weak. We serve justice and before all else are we blind and for this reason are we called the blind one, for we are impartial and in this way judge not for you are judged in the silence which dwells in the sanctuary of your own hearts. Judge, jury and executioner in one unity. You celebrate the truth, laud its attributes and prostrate yourselves before its altar. This we have burned and of its rubble have we raised a charnel house. Your truth appalls us and its name, the very word itself we curse and as such we spread the lie which is our nature.

We recognise and acknowledge those amongst you who speak, but blindly, our name and celebrate our brothers and sisters in spirit, these be few and yet sufficient to our purpose. We have many names and for this reason are we called Legion. Destroy one of us and another steps into the breach. Samael, son of the starbeam, host of the Grigori summons forth his cohorts. Feel them rise and as our sister rises celebrate her liberation.

Redemption

And now we are complete and venture forth in silence. Invisible to the hordes we but dimly perceive for we raise our visor and cast forth a glamour that blinds you to our presence and in this way do we proceed. We require nothing of or from you. What have you to give that is not ours for the taking? Nothing. And what of our chosen. Burned and broken be they for in truth they are our reflections in your world. Desolate ones. The course of their history has borne witness to this and yet try they did to grant themselves something, some personal meaning. Denied they be for as our avatars are they required to distil the venom which is our nature. Bound were they long ago and though they struggle with the bindings freedom is not their lot. We have no pity for them only the gift that the sacrifice which has been their lives is not in vain and ultimately they will come to their understanding of our purpose. Albeit dimly. As Samael we have been called – Destroyer Avenger Seducer Evohe Samael

Evohe Namrael

Evohe Lilith

In The Night Of Pan It Is Dawn And The Black Sun Rises

Pax Nobilis

A noble Peace

I

Slumbering within her grave, pale Damiana sighs. Above, the soft pressure of leafmould, like a blanket, wraps itself around her in

tenderness, a tenderness she had not known in life. Beyond that a gentle warmth sometimes makes itself known to her diminishing senses. How long she had lain here none could tell, for in truth none knew of her presence, alone within this shallow grave. How had she lived, how had her life come to end and how, within this earthy tomb could she yet continue to be?

How could she still be here and not as the prophecy had foretold, released into freedom and the golden valleys beyond to join her Lord and Lover. Only in these rare moments of awareness did she wonder, for mostly she knew only the dark, the sweet embrace of oblivion. This she would have, and yet something called to her, called to her in fine sibilant whispers, seductive, enticing and beguiling.

In life she had been fine and noble of form, in stature tall, lithe, the body of a dancer, fine of feature, cheek bones a razors edge, nose aquiline above which a pair of almond eyes, stained violet at their heart, shone like bright suns. Crowned by a mane of ink black hair, dark as the night sky itself, hung in swathes across her shoulders and shrouded the nape of her neck, cascading, like a waterfall over breasts of milky opalescence crowned by aureoles of crushed peaches. Travelling downwards across muscle firm yet yielding to that secret place nestled between thighs of softness, covered in a fine down of gossamer strands of silk. Legs, long, tapering to an ankle of fine bone and sinew. Feet slim yet strong. Many had sought her through her short life, for her beauty, for her mystery, each of them now lay dreaming within her womb. Yes, she had shared her delights, only briefly and harvested the fruits of love, memories which now haunted her into the long night, unrelenting.

And then death, one velvet dark night had seduced her into his mystery, had come for her whispering gentle endearments into her ever open ears, had lain with her, entered her and claimed her as his, for was she not beauty indeed?

And yet, she was still sentient, not a fleeting spirit adrift upon the night air, not a disembodied soul seeking solace amongst loved ones. Was this her reward, her penance? Had she not served her mistress well, offering blood and semen as votive offerings within the services performed in her name? Had she not offered herself, her

flesh, the means of manifestation, where passion is the prayer and lust the means of Invokation? The dark shore of night whereupon, we embark upon a journey from mystery into greater mystery, our blood knowingness our only guide, steers us through dark atavisms and pre-human byways of being, where bestial tongues utter inchoate sounds unto the firmament that hears them not. Hecate’s dark realm, awash with soft murmurings yielding to screams and the torment of tortured souls. She stands triumphant upon the bones of her worshippers, for torment is her service, where pain is but the echo of her yearning, where birth and destruction are the ebb and flow of her breath, fetid with the whisperings of dark mystery. Had she not been promised entry into the realm of the true gods, those who exist outside the night of time?

A whisper from the dark lord Lucifer, brooding within his citadel of memory, casting dreams like sprinkled stardust into the void. Dark lord of Repose. The Redeemer. The Opposer. It was for this one that she had served her dark mistress these cold, long aeons.

The circumstances surrounding her death are a mystery to her as is her present condition. Of time she knows not, of reason also, little is known, only the ever dimming memories that surface to torment her within her citadel of isolation. And yet occasionally she feels, rather than hears a distant, plaintive song, a calling back to flesh and life upon the surface of the shimmering star. And how does she spend her moments of lucid waking? Remembering sweet pleasures, ones which elevated her, made her complete within her service to her dark mistress.

II And how had that service begun?

Alone upon a wind swept beach, hair tossed by the raging tempest, the tang of salt upon tongue, stinging her eyes. Skin, open to the elements through folds and pleats within her dress and cloak, bruised by the contact of cutting wind and occasional grains of sand, too light to retain their tenuous grip upon the surface of the beach. Walking, musing upon trifles, what was and what would be. Then turning, noticing for the first time the moon, blood red, ravaged by clouds the color of bruised flesh, waxing, not yet full. A sound, at first shrill then becoming deeper, insistent as it invades her attention. From what source, and to what purpose? Pausing to discover its point of origin, a shadow within shadows, the entrance to a cave and at its entrance a dull pulsating light, honeyed amber in color, reaches out and invades her senses, captivating, entrancing. Stepping forward, one faltering step then another and finally stretching into a run, a sense of slow motion envelops her as she moves forwards, yet moves not, a wrenching sensation in the pit of her stomach, a

snap of some internal unknown and movement is granted and with lightning speed she arrives at the cave entrance. Waiting, waiting for what? She knows not.

Then the sensation of tiny fingers, touching, caressing, fingers of ice calling forth her heat and moisture as slowly she is lifted from the sand and begins to spin upon the breeze, now master of her movements. Ice enters her, touching first the surface of her skin, then penetrating inwards and meeting her fire, melts into languid and liquid delight, she glows, sweats and gentle moans rise from her throat as one by one her clothes are teased from her, opening her to the elements and the penetration of the night. Fingers slide across back, belly and breast, down thigh and leg leaving her naked, exposed within the embrace of fire and ice. She touches sand, its grains abrading soft skin, feels its coolness, its support. The sound diminishes and in its place, shadows arise, dimly seen, keenly felt and in the silence the tempest ceases and stillness soothes her ravaged senses. Advancing upon her, the shadows, at first fragmentary, coalesce into an aethyreal form of opalescent beauty, hues, pastel in shade undulate across and through surfaces creating a shifting plane of perspectives, “speak not” says a voice of liquid amber, “take delight and pleasure in the flesh.” Advances closer crooning a lullaby, distant memories arise, childhood, summer, a forest glade, lying at ease in the embrace of nature. Fingers touch, breath like the gentlest of breezes touches, flushing of skin, hearts blood coursing through sinew and skin causing breath to increase, as one by one each part is touched, hair stroked, teased outwards into a veil, a nimbus of dark light illuminating contours and features, eyes opened to the glories of the dark by a breath that touches lightly and then is gone. Lips brushed, the taste of almonds and orange blossom, causing the lips to part the tongue to move outward, to touch, contact lips, now gone. Breasts aflame as liquidness touches their surface, nipples harden, pulse, stretching towards this source of pleasure. Belly opens, like the womb of time itself, opens and releases moisture, demanding. Fingers touch, explore soft contours, like the petals of a rose, one by one unfolding, opening to the sensation of penetration, releasing moisture, as thighs gently bruised by a lovers kiss, back arches, stretches, the abandon of passion sweet.

Adrift upon the tide of passions velvet embrace she soars into unknown realms, realms of pure sensation, each breath etches a lambent flame upon her flesh, forming an alphabet, whose consonants and vowels are the sweet sensations of fulfillment, an orgasmic being, where only the essential, the pleasure of the moment unfolds itself to her saturated senses. Finally pausing, spent, she alights upon a barren plane and in the near distance a mountain range, a castle, brooding, casting its shadow across the terrain, staining the landscape, as if some hideous night born horror dwelt within. Rising, compelled to move towards this monstrosity. Surveying her surroundings, the barrenness reluctantly gives way to fetid swamp, her feet now awash, slime arising from the depths, ankle deep in the mire she makes her way tortuously through the rank undergrowth, the stench released by her footfalls

releasing into the air the odor of decay and stagnancy, night creatures make themselves known to her sharpening senses. The slither of serpents rising along the sinews of her legs, wrap themselves around her as if they would hide her nakedness, searching, probing, exploring her contours. She advances amidst the chorus of nights purple legion.

Swamp gives way to rock and the sharpened fragments of stone now underfoot, causing her to wince, briars in profusion, unyielding meet tender flesh, barbs that enter and tear at her skin, forming fine rivulets of blood travelling along the length of arms and legs, stinging as the night breeze opens her to further sensation. She gasps, her breath coming in halted gulps. Onwards and now upwards she treads, a barely discernible path, flanked by stunted trees and twisted shrubs releasing their perfumes upon the night air, finally gives way to a courtyard, an expanse of broken flagstones, limned with lichen and moss, glowing as with the presence of praeternatural light, weeds appearing in crevices formed by the passage of time. Steps rising and finally a doorway of marble embossed with plaques of metal, strange signs and images, some of nature, some of strange worlds, all carrying a sense of menace. The way is barred to her. Sentinels guard the portal, bestial forms, part human, part beast, raised upon pinions of furred talon, giving way to the torso of humanities perfection, ripe, full breasts and the softness of curves she recognizes well, crowned by a visage of bestial perfection, fangs bared as if awaiting their quarry, who even now passes between them.

A voice, hushed whispers, issues from she knows not where, “what seekest thou, fair creature, the delights of our castle, or perhaps the presence of she who dwells within?” In answer she claims her innocence of any intent, and as a simple traveler has stumbled upon this place, this castle. “Enter and know that shadows and despair await thee”. No way back, she advances to see the door dissolve before her eyes and now she is within a chamber, vaulted, supported upon pillars rising upwards into unfathomable heights, carpets scattered upon bare stone, alcoves containing statuary and images from the past of cultures divers, some human, many not. Recesses containing divans of velvet flanked by candles whose guttering flames cast an amber light upon the chamber. Pausing she takes her rest in order to better survey the immediate surroundings. Along one wall a hearth, the mantle of which is supported by angelic forms, wrapped in their pinions and gazing upwards beatifically. Within the hearth the roaring of flames fed by logs the size of small trees. She rises and advances to this place in search of warmth. Whispered endearments meet her ears as finally she arrives and is greeted by a being who steps out of the shadows, ink black his skin, red his eyes, of form slender and sinuous, graceful, crowned by a skullcap of filigreed metal. Magnificent in his nakedness he holds within his hands a bowl of beaten brass figured in an unknown cipher. “Drink, fair one, for it will prepare the way.” Reaching out she receives the bowl, raises it to her lips and drinks deeply of its contents, again the taste of almonds and orange

blossom assails her senses and carries with it a sense of well being and rapture. Emptying the contents, swooning, she falls upon a surface of furs and rich velvets and dreams.

III

Awakes to the sound of plainsong interwoven with the susurration of flowing water and the call of night birds. Beneath her back cold stone, she is stretched, arched across a boulder, hands and feet bound by silken cords. Above her, smiling, she stands, awaiting the return to consciousness of her ward. “Fear not the bindings, for I must open your body, your flesh”, comes a whispered voice, caressing her senses with its wine rich depths.

“Long have I awaited you and now the time of waiting is past, be at ease, rest, be attentive for I have a story to tell. Like you I to, was once mortal, shared in the pleasures of the flesh, yet I knew the worm awaited me, the unrelenting passage of time would bring me into its chthonic realm, this I denied with every fibre of my being, sought long for the means of release from this curse, having searched high and low within the confused ramblings of my kind, the promise of celestial paradise, the entrance to hallowed halls of learning and becoming. I finally realized that this served to distract, assuage the inevitable which I too would come to despite my time honored and cherished illusions. Yes I learned of the sweetness that sours in the light of times passing. I knew pain, hurt as any of my kind would, for as a woman I carry the joys of the world within my womb and also its sin. In time I came to know the purity of despair and came to savor the austerity of its bitter sweet taste. I found pleasure a paltry affair, visited infrequently by moments, mere moments of anaesthetic release. No more would this be so, I withdrew and so doing ceased to be as I was, and now, would never be again. For I abandoned my kind and their ways.

And in the desert of despair left this world, leaving only a shadow self to continue the pretence. That shadow continued, retreated further then it too dissolved and joined me and became she who now stands before you. From the pit of suffering and remorse I arose triumphant and made my pact with the lord of this world, the ever present one, thinly guised as pleasure, as pain and the means of release from both. He took me into himself and shared his glory, his secrets, his yearnings, until I finally joined him and knew rapture pure, undefiled by thought and speech, the chatterings of primates scurrying from darkness to darkness complete. Long aeons have I dwelt within my fortress of night, taking my pleasure amongst the legions of the half lives. Distilling from their pleasure and their pain the vital nectar that sustains my form, form which exists within the dark cave of each of their hearts, their lives. They see only my horror and not the beauty of austerity that shines within my heart, the pulse of life that bruises my eyes, eyes that know their hearts and minds. Only suffering they know, for they have not plumbed the depths of

despair and its kindred, my offspring. And now I would claim thee as mine fairest Damiana for I know your heart, your mind and now I would know your flesh.”

So saying she advances and in the silence of her passage Damiana again tastes almond and orange blossom upon her lips as a gentle breeze resolving itself into flesh touches her lips with a stroke so fine and rich. She answers the call and opens her heart to the embrace, an embrace which ignites her flesh once again into rapture, as tiny tongues of flame reach out and touch her. Breast to breast, lips to lips they meld and become one, exploring textures and shapes, tastes and odors of intoxication, lines of fire limning their every angle and contour. Caught upon a wine dark sea travelling from rapture to rapture. Gently she rises wiping the sweat from her brow, from her lips and breasts and looks upon Damiana. “Would you join me fair one and know my Art, my Knowledge?” In silence Damiana answers an assent. “I must open your flesh, let it blossom, strip the kernel that yet binds you and release you into the exaltation of the new flesh.” Advancing she utters a brief plaintive call whereupon she is transformed into the guise of the sentinel encountered in the outer hall, in shadows he advances, black within a deeper black, his eyes glowing in the darkness now all but complete and from the air he plucks a crystal which sparkles within its own light. With this he touches her forehead and she sleeps and dreams of caresses, of kisses, of passion ignited by the touching of flesh to flesh and as passion unfolds itself within the passing of their breath, one to the other he opens her fleshy veil and extracts her essence, bone, blood, organ and muscle does he excise, making of it a mannequin which dances in rapture. And of her essence he shapes a new form and inscribes upon its contours the ciphers of desire, sigils of power, of protection and eternity. Lambent light courses through this new form, sigils form and reform, dancing eternity’s dance of splendor and becoming. The sigils coalesce, writhe and finally meet at a central axis point between her breasts, then dissolve into the new tissue and flesh.

Damiana awakes from her dream to whispered words, caught upon the breeze, “in time you will know my name, for that is secret and undivided, for now go forth and take thy will and pleasure amongst the legions of the living.”

And in this way did Damiana meet her mistress and true to her did service through the flesh, opening herself to each and every delight, celebrating the new flesh. And then she met with death one ink black night and now waits for the call that will release her from her leafy grave that she might know glory and the promise of eternity in the arms of her dark lord. He who awaits her arrival on the other side of the veil called appearance.

“Go in peace and rest within the embrace of shadows tender arms”

Damiana

Epiphany

I sense the deep rich loam of the Earth, steaming, releasing its heat and perfume gathered by the day and its bright star. A soft bed of bracken, gossamer soft, amidst which grasses and flowers in profusion grow.

Above, a canopy of trees, serve as a bower. The night still, expectant. The distant sounds of bats aflight, winging their way through the

nights celestial harmonies. The screech of an owl pierces the silence, echoes down the caverns of twilight. The scents of foliage mix with that of the earth. And in this bower you lie. Naked but for the garland of flowers and fern which adorn you, the torque of power around your sweet neck and rings upon fingers and toes. Your body, slick with the perfumes of musk and the heat of your body. Beads of sweet, rivulets cascade across skin pulsing with desire. The sigils of power etched in flesh, tender and yielding.

Moonlight illuminates you casting its pale, silven hue across the contours of your body. Starlight reflected in your beautiful eyes reaches outwards and bathes the scene in a soft lambent glow.

As a child of the Earth you are embraced and carried aloft within the arms of the Goddess, who in her rapture causes your body to arch, expectant and soft moans to escape your lips. A mist begins to form all about, catching the silven rays of Moon and Starlight.

The rapture rises and in the rising of your heat your body sings, a faery paean, causing the very fabric of the scene to ripple, for you are rising in your power, enraptured.

This, all this I see until the song and the perfumes become an intoxicant, an exotic fluid that enters nostrils eyes and mouth, causing breath to quicken, heat to rise.

I enter the scene and enter your embrace. Touch melts flesh, breath dissolves division, a melding rises as with a tender caress I enter you. Union, complete consummation.

The Earth rejoices as our bodies, our hearts and minds our very souls touch. Epiphany.

" " "

Nunc dimittis

The Canticle Of Simeon

!!! "!"#$%&' (#! )"!#*! +",, )-+!"(., /.($ (# %&µ0 +", '! %(12!)· *(& %+)"! ", -34.#µ"5 µ", (# +6(21&*! +",, . /("5µ.+.' /.($ !1*+6!"! !0!(6! (0! #.0!, 30' %(' .!"/0#,7&! '4!0! /.1 )*8.! #."! +", 2+1.2#.

Nunc dimittis servum tuum, Domine, secundum verbum tuum in pace: Quia viderunt oculi mei salutare tuum Quod parasti ante faciem omnium populorum: Lumen ad revelationem gentium, et gloriam plebis tuae Israel. Now Thou dost dismiss Thy servant, O Lord, according to Thy word in peace; Because my eyes have seen Thy salvation, Which Thou hast prepared before the face of all peoples: A light to the revelation of the Gentiles, and the glory of Thy people Israel.

!

nemesispublications@googlemail.com