We sat down on what was once a central podium; an area of flat rock laminated with a skin of clear crystal. Its surface now pitted and cracked. It would have been where the students sat while receiving their teachings from the priests. We closed our eyes and prepared for a series of affirmations and meditations.
Unless the cult priests know of hidden ancient entry points, I cannot see how they can enter here. Akrah spoke barely above a whisper. It is possible they know of ways in that I don’t. From a lower level. I have been in here many times and thought I knew all entry points. I could be wrong.
He was visibly anxious. There was a black edge to his mental field - a colour I had not seen before in his consciousness. I sensed he was fearful.
Ahead of me was the brilliance of the live giver. Her warmth filled my being with all the positive aspects of creation. I was able to forget the manifest plane and its increasing problems. This was the design of the visualisation. The visualisation I had begun with still sounded in my consciousness - I am light. I am made of the light of the source. The source light will guide me. I am the source light. I am one with the source light.
I deliberately forgot I had a thought form and began to merge myself into the light of the life giver. I felt myself rising. Heading towards that mighty orb of light. Until I became part of the life giver. I kept travelling and entered a huge sea of light. I was the light and the light accepted me as part of its structure. Presently, the vision changed. My consciousness could not comprehend the transition which had befallen me.
At my feet; I had regained a form; was a road composed of living vibrant energy. I knew from its consciousness it wished me to venture on its surface and not merge with it. This I did with ease. I found the road to be straight, without a single deviation. Ahead of me I could see a dark ball of light. I shivered at its existence but was assured all was okay. The road seemed to move downwards and the dark sun was on the horizon. I headed slowly to the horizon. I was nervous.
Then I was no longer alone. First another essence stood to my left; then a second stood on my right. Then there was four of us. Then five. Then six. Then ten. Then fifty. Soon there was too many to count. We all shared the experience; had the same thought; the same intention. We floating through the universe toward a unknown destination. It was our destiny.
Suddenly, a vale of shadow - like a cloud - lifted form the orb on the horizon and a non-blinding light filled our senses. We all soared high, leaving the road of light below us. Instantly we all merged as one and hovered in front of the mighty orb.
The orb then chose to speak to us. It was sad at the time of misery which was to come upon us. It made no apologies. It merely talked to us as if we were children; for in truth we were; and explained we would be rescued after a time of high adventure. An adventure that would take us across many oceans; would make us see many things; taste all the seventeen fears; come to terms with being human trapped on the manifest plane. Then would all meet up once more and discuss with the teacher what we had seen and where we had been. We would all soon forget the road and the life we would have. We would be the lost children of the one. The legacy. The chosen for want of a better word. The children of the shadow - the cult of Belial - would endeavour to dilute and damn our words; would force the facets of mankind into major hardship and declare us as evil. The cult of Belial would become the house of god in many different forms and our way would be forgotten. But through time we would rest and hide and wait for the time of light. The time when the black cloud would leave the central sun and we would all remember again. WE would be the legacy. We would be a structure of living thoughts for all of mankind to read should there be a need. We would become a mystical enigma. A school of thought shrouded in doubt and fear and initiation. We would be there as guardians and guides for scholars of the mysteries who would come in search of the truth.
Extract taken from 'The Chronicles Of Ezra' by Matthew James
