Pros Theon

The Master sighed, deep in thought, and approached an overloaded bookcase on the Eastern wall of the treatment room. The afternoon sun cast rendered certain areas invisible with its blinding rays.

Scanning the shelves intently, following the words on each well-worn spine with a finely-nailed forefinger, all but that which the Master sought was readily apparent, the object itself merely absent.

After almost an hour of fruitless seeking, the Master stamped a foot and sighed loudly in frustration. Thoughts from what was by any standards a frequently exercised brain penetrated the atmosphere with ease.

Where on Earth is the magical book?

There was no answer to this question.

Didn’t I see it just after Halle Bop came around again and the moon was side by side with Jupiter?

Again, there was no answer, but the Master felt sure this was when the rare and ancient copy of ‘Pros Theon’, which translated into English as ‘By the Gods’, had last been consulted.

Where can it be, for heaven’s sake?

Who could say? No word came, though the room was imbibed with an overpowering sense that to lose the text completely would be disastrous.

There were only seven transcripts of the book left in existence and at least two of those – the Master’s included – were incomplete. Of the other six, a well-used copy was with the exiled Dalai Lama and the Chief Rabbi – who may well have denied its existence had he been questioned – kept a pristine version hidden away in his library behind the more orthodox texts.

Mahavatar Babaji had somehow obtained a copy of the book that he subsequently left with his disciples, while a famously un-heard of Sufi Magician inherited the fifth from his grandfather. This highly revered leader of a largely forgotten tribe of nomads had escaped persecution by retreating to a hidden network of mountain caves above the plains of ancient Babylon.

The Vatican had the remaining two copies of Pros Theon. One was in fragments and a second had been retrieved by the Knights Templar from a vault below the Church of the Sepulchre in Jerusalem.

The Master felt a sudden chill. Could it be true that the only freely available text of Pros Theon had been lost or even stolen?

Heaven’s Portal

‘

Then the son of old Poseidon –
He who roused Apollo’s hatred –
Shouts: “Assassin! Jealous brother,
Long it is for this you’ve waited.

‘”Sun-God, you designed my downfall
Cruelly, so the breath of sorrow
Falls anew on Winter evenings,
Feeds the dew each misty morrow.

‘“As the nymphs sang paeans, God,
You chose to then divulge my ‘fortune’,
Chose to fool your trusting sister,
Felled the seed of mighty Neptune.

‘”Jealous God, you made her shoot me
while I braved the deep, the blue sea,
Just because my foot was fleeter
And my love, God, that much sweeter!

‘”All shall know the truth of this:
Your virgin loves, my Lord, my kiss,
Your virgin loves, my Lord, my touch;
My Lord – she loves it – oh so much!”

‘“All on Earth shall know the real truth,
She has made me quite immortal.
Greatly shall this come to haunt you
Now I stand at Heaven’s portal.”

Arrow of Artemis

Vernal sun – the fiery Aries’
Golden fleece – lights Pallas, mighty,
Guardian over Argive heroes;
Asteroid of winged Niké.

This the key to hidden gateways –
Look beyond to see the secret –
Clio fixed for all the greats’ days.
Thalia the Muse, the Grace says:

‘Artemis, with bow and quiver,
Stands aloft on Mount Olympus,
As the doe and hind, in silence,
Jump the clear and Star-lit river.

‘Swift they run, like magic carpets,
Through the green and silver forests,
Past the bears and bees with honey
As the Goddess hits her target.

‘“Bravo, Sister!” beams Apollo –
Gazing at the sea below them –
“Never did you miss with arrow!”
Sinks the form of bold Orion”.

‘Lord Apollo watches, silent,
As the virgin’s beau drifts skyward.
Watches as the only question
O’er her virtue learns his lesson.

‘By a cedar stands she grieving,
Bows her head in shame, a-weeping,
Cries upon the smelted moon beams,
Chastens, then, her ruthless sibling.

‘“King of priests, my Lord Apollo,
‘Reasons for his death ring hollow.
While the muses – nine that love thee –
Contemplate their selves, you’d fool me!”

Laughs the god: “Your love’s a martyr,”
Facing fear the charging Taurus,
“Tempted by the Atlas daughters,
Girls who shine on lucid waters.”

Quill of Hermes

Marked these words the quill of Hermes:
Raise the green-lipped youth Adonis.
Listen well, as if to Eros,
See the truth within his promise.

Through the self, a solar system
Metes out time. The planets singing,
Seal in lines the great revision.
“Light!” The cosmic bells are ringing.

Truth reflects within the like minds,
As are scanned the skies sky for giants’
Astronomic temples; sun-signs
Trace the thread of ancient science.

There in orbit turn the star-lings,
Planets binding, suns inclining,
In such ways that whole dimensions
Fold inside the vaults of Heaven.

Angels watch the hidden stargates –
One from North, a second South-side –
East and West. The seal is six-faced,
Secret form: A cube-shaped inside.

Know the birds sing as you enter
Into space. The sidereal turning
Back reveals inside the memories,
Log-book of a life-times’ journeys.

Star flight is the love inflection,
Four plus one, the whole quintessence.
Flame, Air, Water, Earth, Reflection,
Quantum leaps in five directions.

Twelve the signs that mark the time-piece,
Zodiacal months and sections.
Fiery Water, Earth-Air, star suite.
‘Now behold the Ram,’ says Hermes.

Dissolution of Reason

Sotheby's Collection — Turquoise and Diamond Parure, image by Sotheby's

I was certainly unprepared for a surprise invitation and looked around in a state of slight agitation, feeling myself pulled in two directions.

On the one hand the fairy’s offer was like a welcome remedy to an inner disturbance and the creature herself was tempting. Evidence of this was to be found in the demeanour of my companion, who had already moved slightly from my side and closer to that of the other, at whom she was now gazing in wonder.

I could see that her sense of reason was almost captivated and wondered how she could be so easily swayed. For me own part, I did not wish to become beholden to creatures of the netherworld, however enticingly they appeared, and thought instead of continuing alone whilst within the walls of the city rather than go along as one with two and lose track of time.

Secretly, though, I was disconcerted at a potential parting of ways with the voice of reason, brown-haired and demure, strong in her white robes. The strange and beautiful place that we were in was full of danger for me and perhaps the opportunity to take instant refuge with one who had the freedom of the city should be taken up thankfully. If my reason was entranced, then maybe I should follow willingly, rather than be alone in my passion? Something held me back.

“Your offer is most kind, but I….I’m not sure, forgive me”.

My reason was now stroking her hair and I felt something slip away for the first time as the chill I could see in the air of the city shimmered into a warmer clime. I started to drift away and remembered how it had felt, in those days, to still belong – the cocoon of protection started to envelop me once again – was it true that I had been a citizen after all and that there was a way for me to wander these rare streets as if they were my own?

I felt resolved again in a new direction; it would be fine – why should we not go with her – for what purpose had we come, if not for adventure?

The Fairy Guide

I turned around swiftly, shaken from my reverie by the clear, bright voice that had mercifully prevented me from fully transforming into a fumbling classicist. There before me stood a most remarkable creature, smiling through the sunshine and shaking her lovely hair in the soft summer breeze.

I couldn’t remember having actually seen a fairy before this occasion, although I had been almost sure of their existence and had longed to meet with one of their number for my entire life. As such, I was slightly in awe of this one, maybe because she radiated the most extraordinary confidence through glorious green eyes that betrayed no sign of conscience whatsoever.

Or maybe because of her incredible beauty, which combined all the lightness of air with the alchemy of fire.

Fairies are elemental existences, emanations of the ethereal spirit, and they follow natural laws. I have heard that they have no allegiance to any but themselves and their fairy master and take great glee from high-jinx and trickery.

Quick-witted, easy to both anger and delight, fairies are beings that cannot be trusted beyond reason and must always be treated with caution, but who might also prove to be extremely helpful under the right circumstances. Conversing them safely requires both impeccable intent and a certain degree of intelligence.

I recovered some of my sense and eyed this one authoritatively.

“Thank you ma’am, I was just daydreaming for a moment – this ancient city was part of my first youth and I’m trying to recall the way to the Elysium Fields”.

The vixen-like appearance of the elemental being softened perceptibly and her eyes lost their mischievous glitter. “I see that you are a little confused, for surely it is not yet time for you to return. Come, let me first take you to the Potter’s hearth for some light refreshment while you decide what to do for the best.”

The Funeral Photograph

I finally spoke to the girl who had come with me: ‘I’ve been here before’ I said vaguely, trying in vain to jog my memory and frowning as I tried to recall the first day. The atmosphere really had not changed, although this time I was closer to the heart of the city than I had been previously.

I had wandered around that time, partly because of a search for something I could not place, but also because it had been my duty to establish the geometric co-ordinates of the city’s layout.

I had many friends at this place there in those days, people on the inside who were prepared to share some of their knowledge with me, and they had taken me to a situation of repose on the outskirts of the forbidding campus, where discipline was either extreme or non-existent.

By chance, I also recalled that I had once enjoyed rather an elevated social status, thanks to my association with a young man of high rank. I had taken part in a memorable group photograph in the grounds of a private house somewhere in the area, although the precise location of this place was no longer known to me.

The occasion of the photograph had given me the strong impression of a funeral at the time, for everybody was dressed in black and I was aware that at least some of the guests were alive only in spirit. There was, however, an air of suppressed hilarity which detracted from any suggestion of death.

Politeness forbade me from enquiring into the exact state of the other guests, be they alive or dead, but I had enjoyed rather an interesting conversation with one Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis, who was positioned to my left and who spent at least half an hour imparting to me the secrets of her style, and other invaluable information. Many secrets were shared with me regarding how a woman ought to deal with a powerful husband.

The photograph turned out beautifully.

Aside from visiting dignitaries in the grounds, the rolling garden surrounds of the University were possibly the most enticing grounds I had ever encountered. I spent a very long period there in relaxation.

So pleasurable was that plateau, beyond the burden of time, and yet it was only a staging post for me, a place where I could not permanently reside. The Elysium fields of my friends became dangerously like the spiritual land of Dido transported to a dream, whilst those around me recognized no queen….

My destiny, how it was revealed through history.

A cool voice shook me from my reverie:

“Do you two need any help?”

Knowing Hidden Places

I recognized the atmosphere immediately; the cobbled, sloping streets and brooding blue air were strangely familiar. I stopped and looked around.

One of the huge main buildings was not very far away, in a southerly direction from where we were standing. The tawny stones of its massive structure shone brightly in the strong summer sunshine. It was a forboding edifice, dramatically radiant with distinct sort of power that was in a class of its own, bordered with immaculate formal shrubbery.

Even more amazing than the building itself was the sheer blazing light suffusing the entire scene. I had seldom seen another place with walls so bright, they gleamed without ever failing, as I recalled, be it by the sun, moon or stars, resplendent with cool, classical beauty….

For the first time on our quest I felt slightly uneasy and struggled to remember something that was eluding me for the second time. I looked and looked again. My companion was by now by my side and I haltingly confided to her, hoping to jog my memory and perhaps arouse in her some sense of recognition. Some secret she might of know about why we were really there.

Once before had I seen this place – exactly as it seemed at this moment – but then it had been a dream. Many times before had I seen a place that now appeared to have been its image. It was strange, almost perfect, the enigma of architectural enlightenment, but I had an unmistakable sense of unease. One could not help but feel that the atmosphere was potentially restrictive to a free spirit.

Was it possible, that if they saw us, we would be imprisoned?

There was a definite suggestion of dark and hidden corridors, both without and within the actual buildings. If it were all a fairy tale, there would have been a gingerbread house on a side-road somewhere, a place where witches entrapped wandering children of earth and starry heaven.

I had a distinct feeling of possible exposure and wished not to approach those inner walls, lest they should bear down and became a prison of knowledge, for all of their glorious appearance. Once stuck in a position of learning, it might be extremely hard to escape honourably without first renouncing individual intelligence.

I could see that potentially dangerous secrets were being guarded within and that I was able to discover what many other students (or clones, as they appeared) never comprehended – the depth of knowledge actually in situ – except of course for the gilded few who by birthright were trusted by the establishment. I realised for the second time that there was a conspiracy but could not fathom the mystery that I longed to understand.

The Secret University

I assumed that the guardian lizards formed the basis of the more ominous rumours and stories surrounding this place. They seemed restlessly active and I wondered if it was due to disturbance at our presence.

Glancing over at them on the opposite banks, I noted that they looked similar to crocodile in size and general appearance, but were not crocodiles, in fact. They were an otherwise unheard of variety of large, dangerous-looking lizard, something like a komodo dragon. There were also several smaller lizards that quickly dipped in and out of the water. These looked like a different species to the first but possibly were females.

My companion was evidently nervous at the proximity of these dangerous-looking reptilians and although I wasn’t exactly over the moon myself – due to their imposing size and peculiar nature – I had no fear of the guardian lizards.

I was moving swiftly on but could not fail to attract the attention of the largest beast, which had ran like lightening in my direction almost as soon as I laid eyes upon it. Now I really understood why they had wanted me to go first.

As the beast approached, I stopped to turn slightly and, when it reached my feet, I bent down instinctively to pat its head. I was very lucky indeed, because although my companion (but not my consciousness) had been unaware, it appeared that these animals were my friends. Perhaps this was because of the golden boots, for the creature had distinctly examined them before scuttling back to its shadowy corner.

Whatever the case may have been, the second success of the mission appeared to have been achieved and, as I looked ahead, I felt a leap of excitement. There was a partially open door to the other side, clearly in view and not very far away.

I reached the exit quickly. It was a small wooden door, part of the panel of a larger one. It was quite similar in appearance to the pedestrian entrances of college buildings. This doorway in the ancient gate swung completely open as soon as I reached it and I saw clear signs of a fine summer day beyond the threshold. Bowing my head to get through the restricted entrance, I stepped over and out into the secret university.

The Guardians of the Cataombs

I thought I had a solution and demonstrated by lowering myself carefully by my arms and resting my elbows on the edge of the sitting place. This way I could reach down further with my legs and feet.

It seemed to work nicely and I was able to smartly tap one of the stones with the flat of both soles. To the elation of my companion, or companions, the stone instantly slid away into the darkness, taking another smooth, wide slab with it.

I was personally quite pleased at this early success, but less than overjoyed to see that the hole left by the stones was particularly dank, dark and uninviting. I was evidently supposed to go down first – that much was blatantly clear – and the others had, indeed, silently fallen back, leaving an atmosphere of expectation in their wake. I headed forth without delay, without even reason as my guide.

I had half expected it to be a treacherous descent but when I jumped (for jumping was the only way down) I landed lightly, but wetly, on the floor of the catacombs, not very far beneath the hidden entrance that was embedded in the ceiling of the tunnel. It was dark and muddy down there and – whilst I was thankful for my protective foot-covering – I was more than aware that the golden boots, apart from literally giving me the ability to make an entrance, were more than likely to attract attention which may have been unwanted.

So thought it best to disguise my beautiful boots by giving them a generous coating of mud and slime. Gifts such as this had a tendency to invite tremendous envy, which it was not my wont to stimulate.

Although it may have been a shame to forgo the degree of admiration the boots would have been sure to attract, I forgot about footwear and purposefully headed out into the tunnel. I was aware that at least one other person had come down with me – this being the brown-haired girl, who was quiet as could be – and I was almost 100% satisfied that I hadn’t been tricked into entering some deadly trap.There may also have been a third present, I was never sure.

The tunnel was wide and seemed to lead in an obvious direction (seemingly west) which was the direction I went in. The walls were not entirely plain and bore quite striking geometrical patterns in places, but the overall look of the catacombs was somewhat ominous. I tried not to think about it too much.

As I passed without heed to any hidden panic, I looked to my left and saw that the guardian beasts were lurking together in a swampier cavernous area. We were apparently walking on a fairly narrow path by the side of a river or pool of indeterminate depth. The guardian beasts were at that moment on the opposite bank.