Just as the Moon rules the tides, the Aeons rule the great shifts in human evolution. There are moments of demarcation during which we watch, we wait, we act... There is a consciousness by which we can, by means of Spirit, partake in choice, for there is Will.

The Midnight Sun is rising. We are Ophidian. We salute Her, and await Her Dawning.

Responding in a reactionary way is not taking power into one's own hand; it is answering to the power of another. To have power, one must wield it with Autonomy & Will — and it must be Justified. Those who lust for power will forever be the slaves of It. Those who truly have power do not have to show it, for it is not something to be possessed. The Sun does not posses its light. It burns with it.

Man has lost his connection to Spirit. The modern magician is Atheistic in his notion that Magick is mind. Mind is at best a tool. Mind is not god. Psychology is not Magick. When a body decays it is fragmented and consumed, becoming a womb for new life. Man has fragmented himself into separate pieces so remote from himself that he has lost the understanding of life itself.

You are always on the threshold of the discovery of yourself, swirling about in infinity, for there is no end in time, only beginnings.

He who thinks he can obtain enlightenment with passivity: by listening in the audience of a "guru", by reading a book, or thinking a thought, is a fool. There is no path to illumination other then the path of Darkness in the Underworld. There is no earthly guide other then an initiated Priestess holding the torch of Hekate.

What is it that keeps you from knowing true beauty and joy? Where is this union of Spirit and matter, if not within the Elements of your own incarnation? To walk with Spirit is to walk with Will.

The face is a reflection of Spirit. So many strive to appear anything but beautiful, thinking there is Power in strangeness, ugliness, and degradation. But — nothing captivates like pure, shining Spirit; radiant, beautiful — aligned as it is with the Will and Purpose of each incarnation. These are our people.

What is this stage craft they proclaim Magick to be? This illusion of mind; images put forth to titillate imagination, all as empty as the inside of a great, pink balloon. It is hot air in the end; exhalation. It is not Spirit that is illusion. It is mind. There is no Magick without Spirit.

The Moderns make a fundamental error in Magick, believing that Air is Magick; that mind is Magick. There is a balance between the five Elements. The mind is a useful tool. And, without Spirit, there is no Magick at all.

There is a great satisfaction in putting into practice the teachings of the Gnomes and Spirits of the Earth by working with the land, as symbolism can only manifest into the material through direct action.

Float upon the Waters. Ride upon the Air. But, lay within the Earth, my dear. Lay within the Earth.

The Power of the Sun

The Sun is a tremendous source of energy. Of power. But, this power is not generated for use by itself. It is given off, as a means for life around it to feed and grow. Fire consumes, but Fire is short lived. Its very death is precipitated by its intense desire to consume all. By doing so, it uses all of that which feeds it and goes mute.

So, the Sun burns brightly as it consumes itself. It transmutes its body into power, and radiates its light. It feeds off itself until the day that it goes dark. Silent.

If the Sun possessed its own power, it could live forever. It could feed off of its own power and light and be self-sustaining. But, this is not the nature of fire. Fire must consume. The Sun burns brightly, but its power is its exhalation.

It is the Female Forces of Natura who feed upon the power of this exhalation. They take this energy and power and with it create all things—all life. With it they create death, and transformation.

So, too, man is like a little Sun. Man gives off energy, but like the sun, it is an exhalation. He cannot power himself with it. He can only consume himself with it. In this way, he must give his energy to the female, for he will perish either way, but it is in his function and his purpose that he provides that light for Her use.

The Serpent Sings a Quiet Song

The Serpent stands tall, guarding the gateways to Truth, and even the Buddha sat beneath the Cobra, and faced the Naga. There is no passage allowed into the Underworld, and therefore into the Cosmos, other than with the consent of the Guardians, and we all be Ophidian. All other purported means to the Underworld be a lie. And this is simple truth, born out in all mythologies, even that of the Christos and the Hebrews.

It is true, that Yahweh created the Aryan man in his image: stupid, and rebellious against all that is Truth, Beauty, and Justified in the Principles. And it is true that he told of the Guardian of the Tree of Knowledge: The Serpent, for it is the Ophidians who are the Guardians of all of the Mysteries of the Underworld, and therefore the Realms. And it is true that it was a woman who held the key to this Serpent, and that, the Mother, in an attempt to show the man the truth, gave him the Fruit of all that is Bounty. But, he turned away, as he still does to this day.

So now the men are the purveyors of some Great Work. Seeking truth, yet spurning it in disgust. They are ignorant of the Mysteries, and of the wealth of Guardians who protect them. There is but one doorway into this Understanding, and it is Woman, and it is She who is the Gateway, and the Guardian, for all life and all death pass through the Great Liberating Mother. The Four Gates are Guarded by the flaming torches, born by the four faces of Hekate. The Woman King is the Earthly guide bearing the torch of Spirit, and all of the Luciferae await there.

This Underworld, also guarded by the Brotherhood, is not the Hell of the demon Yahweh, for he created that in the manifest Realm in order to channel those who feed him into the promise and the lie of continued life through their Persona. What better way to focus human energy upon himself then to all but destroy the Earth and life upon it; the Harmonia of existence that we all knew and protected, he tore it apart in his demonic frenzy for control.

But it is evident all around us now, in the manifest Realm, as men consume the flesh and innocence of the babies and children through their sex, and people are tortured and rendered asunder in their psyches and souls, all a glorification of the ugliness that never existed before the rise of the Aryans, and those who created them. What more hellish glory does one need, one that even Dante could not comprehend, to prove the existence of the true hell in this modern world and age? We walk within it manifest, as Yahweh brings his hellish vision to fruition. For he feeds upon you in your anguish.

I am Ophidian, so it is my Nature to speak Truth. The Garden of Eden is Gaia, and the Earth. It is your Mother. You never had to turn away from Her, no, for she would never ostracize Her children. You were banished from Her by the traitor. You can return whenever you decide to, being a true Son or Daughter of Gaia, with the humility of the Persona, in service to your Spirit. And yet, the demon Yahweh and those who support him know that their truth is about to be told. So, they are working to kill your Mother even as I write these words.

This is the Greatest War, and all Ophidians, and all of the Guardians, seek to uphold the Seven Principles, preserve the life force of Gaia, and to restore Babalon to Her rightful place at rule. Yet despite what most expect, this is not a philosophical War, nor is it one of mind or politic. There is no separation between Realms. Only a division of perception.

One might consider this apparent warranty that was offered; this golden promise of undying life. For, Death is the righteous path of the incarnate. To live forever, to become like unto a god...these are the trappings of a great un-making.

"He that lives long & desires death much is ever the King among the Kings."

Humanity awaits its next initiation. Not all candidates pass into the next Realm. Some founder and go asunder. Yet, Death is not a philosophy either. It is real. As are the Realms. As is Spirit. As is Heka. As is Transformation. There are those of us who die and are reborn multiple times within an incarnation. But we have lived so many times before. We can remember into the past, and see into the future.

And I can see the dying. There are millions. And then silence. You are the only one who can create your own significance by your actions. Otherwise, you have already faded away.

The Serpent sings a quiet song that only the Justified can hear. It is a song so ancient that Gaia Herself weeps at the hearing of it, so long ago was it known. It is as a whisper, that makes the spine shiver as if it were touched by long, vibrant fingers. It is a memory that we all share, but that most do not know that they have. Only the dead remember. And for most of them, it is too late.

Your Dominion

If humanity could listen, there would be much to say. For when those who read my words assume that I speak in metaphor, they have forgotten Truth. For what I say is real.

If those people who could listen would, I would have them gather around me. Not as the men did who were in Ancient Greece, lounging about the symposiums, distracted by their opulence. I would have the people sitting with their bodies upon the warmth of their mother, Gaia, spring flowers the incense, the birds the music.

If the people who yearned to listen were you, this is what I would say:

You are lost in a world of belief, battered by convention, abused by lies and propaganda. Close your eyes with the Sun upon your face as you sit and hear my words, and let him illuminate the shadows contained within you so that nothing is hidden from you. So that there is no place for deceit to hide. So that there is no place for fears, deceptions, the poisons given to you all of your life. Become an animal, sitting upon the ground. And let the Sun, Ra, burn away all that is not a part of you.

And for a while just be silent. Be that animal born from the mother upon whose lap you sit. Protected by Her love.

Now, feel that this space within you is a sovereign space. This space is your dominion. There is nothing that can be within this space except that which you permit to enter and reside there. There is only one thing which should be in this space and that is your Spirit. Your Spirit is the real you, the true you. Your Spirit came to dwell within your body when your body was conceived. It came and immediately established dominion there. It came and stood and guarded you as you grew, as you changed, as you developed there. And when you were born, it had an agreement with you. That you would live and serve it the best way that you can so that it can achieve its purpose here.

But you were not raised in a way that honored this agreement, or encouraged this, or taught this.

So I teach you now.

When you wake each day remember that you walk this Earth with sovereignty. That you hold dominion of self. That you are obligated to live in a way that enables the Spirit that is You to reach its potential. That by spending time each day doing this exercise that you may come to finally learn who you are, and that you may finally begin to find your purpose here.

Do not let anything else dwell in your first sacred space. Do not sacrifice your sovereignty and dominion to someone or something else, lest you be their slave. For then it is their Will that you will be doing, and not your own.

Do what thou wilt shall be the whole of the law. Love is the law, love under Will.

To Me, To Me

My sweet children sit, sit, sit and listen to a story about the Grandmother, for this is Her day.

When it is said "the consciousness of the continuity of my existence," this is not a mere metaphor. This is Truth, because the Grandmother is continuous. In the Universes, in all of existence, all things begin, and then change. This is the First Principle of existence. There is no end to any thing, only transformation. Thus we see in all of Her creation the spiral. We see the spiral in the deepest places in the body of the Grandmother called space, and we see the spiral in the tiniest of beings. All things are of Her body. All things are contained within Her.

Even you.

So, on this day, give your love, and your devotion to your Grandmother. And a gift. Make an altar unto Her. Go out and find something from the body of Her little sister, Gaia, be it a flower, or a shell, or a stone that touches your being, and lay it upon Her altar with a saying of love, thanks, and dedication. Write to Her something from your heart and your soul, and give it to Her with your very being.

For all of your love and devotion, whether it be towards a beloved mate, or child, or parent, or pet, or any one thing or any other thing, goes to Her, to Her. For we are all of Nuit. And She contains all things.

An Invocation to Nuit

O, Nuit.

You are the Divine.

You are the Soul of Existence, the Consciousness of all of Creation,
for every manifestation of your love is existence itself,
every breath, every flick of light, and every shadow
is a part of your Will.

And though you give birth to every star,
and each star is the seed that sheds its essence into all of life,
you glorify your wisdom in the separateness of self:
for all life is unique,
and every moment unrepeatable.
So, this is the passing and turning of your Great Wheel
in the greatest, and the smallest of your children.

O, Nuit.

Mother, Grandmother,
there are none in existence who do not know you as such,
for we are all your daughters and your sons,
and we are the daughters of your daughters, or the sons of your sons.
And when the starlight meets the dew we are born:
spirit, seeking to manifest your love, your wisdom
in the course of our being.

It is I, Aureavia, who comes before you on this glorious day
under the Sun in this sky, Ra,
I stand before you, naked, as I was born from the love of your heart,
the warmth of your bounty:
and I shall live my life as a gift to you,
for my existence is as gratitude to you.

Beneath Aiwaith, your divine children, who manifest the breath of the Sylphs
into the song of the birds who glorify the motion therein,
it is I, your Granddaughter,
who washes away all wards of restriction
as Elwaith carries them through my fingers in the waters that
conceived all life upon Earth.

And as I warm my flesh, my body born from Gaia,
by the flicker of the fires that hint at the very essence
within the body of all stars,
I say to you my promise, my devotion, my commitment:

Oh, Nuit,

It is I, Aureavia
I live each day to indwell my Spirit,
for I serve my Spirit in Will.
I give rise to the Serpent,
divine expression of the kiss of Nu,
each spark of light a star.
Her love, rains upon all of existence in
all forms
all expressions
all beauty
all joy.

Every breath that I take is a song of Her glory.
Every moment of my life is a chance to give thanks.
For my existence is not possible without Her love,
for it is Her love that she sheds in all of Her motion.
And I am but a reflection of Her motion in that moment,
transformed by the Will and intent of my being
forever riding the undulations of divine existence
as I strive to be a true expression of Her wisdom.

O, Nuit.

In all of your wisdom you made me a guardian.
And so I walk with choice and determination,
to bring sanctuary to all that is life,
to celebrate your existence through care and dominion:
Guardian of all that is sacred within Gaia.

Tibi amor meae omnis actiones meae sunt.
Mea gratia sententia animae meae est.

(All of my actions are my love for you.
The expression of my soul is my gratitude.)

An Invocation to Hadit

I invoke thee Hadit, for you are the manifestation of my divine Will
which is conceived from the expression of my Spirit upon matter,
the inversion of the elements in the form of a five pointed star.

Serpent upon serpent,
you writhe within the persona
rising and falling,
until that moment when you alight with wings.
O great flaming sphere,
a point of light and fire
divine by the nature of autonomous destiny,
inspired by the kiss of Nu:
for you, as all things are born from Her.

You are the serpent, coiled,
within all manifest in the Realm of flesh,
yet unrealized by the masses of slaves
who are as yet unborn into true existence.

I invoke thee, Hadit!
Become one with my center,
for the core of my star burns bright within me,
even when I cannot feel its presence,
even when I cannot realize its dominion.
Release me, O Hadit!
Release me from the bonds of my own making!
Release me from the restriction of my appetites
and my indolence, my inability to serve that which
gave me breath:
for my life is the purpose of the presence of you within me,
the realization of my true self.

I invoke thee, Hadit!
I invoke my Spirit, may my serpent rise
and give voice to my awakening,
and give reason to my existence.
O, Winged Snake of Light Hadit,
I embrace thee.

And may the gods initiate your presence within me!
And may the angels test my worthiness!
And may the fate of my existence rest upon the death of me!
And may the purpose of my incarnation be realized upon your wings.

My Dear People,

When we build a foundation of Understanding of divine existence, we must not build upon lies, lest we build for ourselves a prison instead of a Temple.

When, on this day, we speak of the Giver of Life, we do not speak of the sperm, or the egg, or even our father Ra.

We speak, my loves, of the Spirit. The Serpent, or the Spirit, is the very thing that animates all with the forces of life, from Nu.

This is the first thing that you must understand. The first step you must take, for unless you realize this simple truth, you will never find your purpose, your Will.

In Nomine Babalon et Vox Sanctae Meretricis

An Invocation to Ra Hoor Khuit

My lord initiating be O so present among us. Thy feathered wings expanding tip to tip to cover the horizon. Sing forth O great hawk-headed lord for thy call brings terror to the hearts of those that hear your battle cry. And as your tail flicks and your shadow covers them in darkness, they will remember that your fury is not yet known but only hinted at, as the shroud of the night star light surrounds them.

I call to thee, most Great and Terrible Hawk-Headed Mystical Lord of Strength, of War, of Vengeance, of Divine Retribution

It is I, [your name], and I come before you, myself an offering, ready to die and be reborn anew. For on this day, I accept the mantle of my most great and terrible purpose, that of my Will.

I am worthy to fight and die before you, Mighty Ra Hoor Khuit! I am ready to face all of my fears! I am ready to forge myself into steel, to severe that which keeps me from my divine, incarnated purpose.

I call to thee, Ra Hoor Khuit! To dedicate the purpose that binds my being in service to all that is the Will of my existence.

I call to thee, Ra Hoor Khuit! To smite me before you, if I am not worthy: for there is no life, no existence, if I do not do that which I incarnated for.

I call to thee, Ra Hoor Khuit! I sacrifice my enslavement so that I may be bound in the service of my Spirit.

Do what thou wilt shall be the whole of the law. Love is the law, love under Will.

The Hagia's Dedication to Ra Hoor Khuit

My lord initiating be O so present among us. Thy feathered wings expanding tip to tip to cover the horizon. Sing forth O great hawk-headed lord for thy call brings terror to the hearts of those that hear your battle cry. And as your tail flicks and your shadow covers them in darkness, they will remember that your fury is not yet known but only hinted at, as the shroud of the night star light surrounds them.

I stand before you, Oh Great Hawk-Headed, Mystical Lord of magnificent strength and of fury. For you have come unto thine age to destroy the enemies and those that give homage to the dying gods. For no greater sorrow has befallen all of life and existence then the crimes committed by these demon lords. No greater violation has been brought unto the Earth, and no greater destruction has reigned than the very rape and torment of our Mother.

Oh, Ra Hoor Khu!

My body pulses with the beat of your own heart. The sound of your great wings brings fever to my soul, for I answer your loud call to arms. For I am a warrior in this age. I am Noboramantu, as you so have named. And I have come, manifest, to bring forth your armies, for all shall fall before you, and be done.

I sing the praises of this Greatest War. I invoke your armies of your Greatest Vengeance, In Nomine Babalon, your Sister. It is the sound of your call that sends terror through the veins of the weakened and the profane. For only those with the greatest courage shall raise their heads upon hearing your cry as the serpent rides upon their brow, and ready themselves for a greatest death, by your side.

It is I, who bears the mantle of your Warrior Kin. And it is I who dies a death before you, a death of sweetness and delight! For you call to me, and I am the bearer of the Blood of the Scarlet Mysteries, carried in the body and the soul of all my kindred sisters. I am the bearer of all that is under the world, and all that foments upon the Earth and all that moves within the skies. I am the gateway between the Realms. I am the guardian of the mysteries. I am, Oh great lord, The Daughter.

It is with mine Blood of mine Moon that I give my soul in service of you, for it is the Will of my Spirit, in Nomine Babalon, to serve you in this War.

Oh, lover of mine, You who came down upon me, taking me into your army of the Blood-borne, taking me in the essence of all that is of the greatest and most potent virility. It is I, Aureavia, whose name was bestowed upon my existence via your Divine Sister. It is I, oh my brother, who stands before you. May it be that my presence, so ordained at your Great Feet, shall bring terror into the hearts of the masses as I am the Pashtun of their unmaking, bestowed this gift by your mighty hand.

It is with all of my passion, it is with all of the forces that I bear within my body, my blood, it is with all of my essence and my Will, that I give myself in this oath to You.

It is with the greatest honor that I serve your reign, and the Dominion of My Mother, as Hagia to Her People. For I have been born from the Blood of the Underworld Fire, having been beaten and buried asunder so that my body is of the Earth, flooded and washed clean by the torrents of the Waters, passed through the Gates of that Great Abyss, having leashed the Great Tormenter, Chronzon! By this, I have forsaken life to walk as The Dead, no longer living, a creature of the Realms.

I give myself unto you, for in the name of Babalon, I am your Enginery of War.

In Nomine Babalon et Vox Sanctae Meretricis

The Hierophant

Tell me why you wish to live amongst the Dead. Whatever would bring you to press yourself upon my gates? Reaching out your hand into the darkness, despite the way the hair rises upon the back of your neck? Is it my love that you seek? Is it the taste of my sweetness?

Does it not trouble you that the company that I keep are the sorts that terrify all men? Shadows that breathe when you turn around? Invisible fingers that poke and prod your spine through your chest? These beasts are my lovers, my most trusted of friends. These are the sorts that terrify the mightiest of demon lords, these fellows.

What is it that I should cling to in your longing for me? For I can open that Gate for you. I am the one who holds the keys which dangle between my naked breasts. There are no humans here, amongst the Rivers. Only spirits live here. So what is it that you seek here, mortal? What is it that the living has to say to the Dead that would make the Dead listen? What is it that you have to offer in a place that no living dare to go?

Is it that you seek enlightenment? A light within the darkness? Is it that you think the darkness is your ignorance, and that somehow, someway, if you grasp that light that I hold in my hand that you will know something that will set you free? Ah, that tantalizing secret that I must bear as I stand naked and glorious just beyond your reaching fingertips. What is that lapping you sense on your fingertips? Is it my sweet kisses? Is it the touch of a serpent's tongue? Will you be bitten? Or just left to reach into the darkness?

Seek, seek, seek, oh wandering one. I am dancing just before your eyes, yet you cannot see me. What sweet scents you smell while your eyes search blindly. How close I must be to you for your nose to detect my essence. Is that the smell of enlightenment? Or, is that the sweet smell of decay, for so many wanderers lay within the threshold of my Gate, never knowing anything.

What can you possibly know of darkness? What can you possibly know of light? There is a pit beyond my Gate filled with the hunger of Knowing, and his eyes shine bright with the terror that you will find there. Can you say the word that you must utter to draw forth my dangling key?

I will not even hold the secret from you. I will tell you freely as the wind. That word is Silence, wandering one. The word is Silence.

I am Here to Kill You

I stand within the palace, within the four gates. I stand triangulated between the Moon, Venus and Saturn: Jasmine, Rose, and the Emblems of Death. I am the Hierophant, I am the Woman Girt with a Sword, I am the Empress and the Wheel: I am here to kill you.

I am Rex Infernae. I have stood before you to be judged, now will you do the same for me? The sword in my hand is bloodied, anointed, sanctified. When I thrust my sword deep into your soul, what will remain standing?

Why are you so afraid to die? Why approach me, asking for my favor, asking for my Love, asking for my attention, if you want to live? Fool.

I hold the sickle, I am Death, I am the sweetness of decay, I am the potentiality of transformation. If Death and I are lovers, and you wander over to our bed, then what does that make you?

My Serpent does not strike out of fear, it strikes out of loathing, it strikes out of Purpose, it strikes with dedication. I will kill you in order to stand face to face with the Serpent within you. Be it a Brother? Be it a Sister? I only share my affections with the Dead. The only light that I know is the flame of my Father that burns on the end of a torch, for when the Sun descends into the Underworld, it does so in the hand of Nox, it does so in the hands of the Sisterhood, it does so borne in the hands of the Brotherhood of the Midnight Sun, Guardians of the Mysteries of Transformation.

And what is this bliss, this ecstasy, when fear turns to excruciating delight, when all that is terror is released to become unbearable freedom? Look into my eyes while you lay dying in my arms, and feel the heat of my kisses while I call you thus.

Let the carapace that surrounds you fall away, that hardened shell, cracked and broken, that thing you called "I". For it is naught. Watch it fall, away, away - watch it shatter upon the ground. See what you have never known, see the blackness that surrounds you, see the light that blinds your blinking eyes. Feel my hands that hold you, feel the warmth of my embrace, the serenity of my fingertips that feel you in the darkness. The burning passion that wraps it self, coiling around you, holding you tightly. Ahhhhh, taste me.

What is this power, this glory, that you find yourself surrounded by, holding you firmly to its loins of the deepest of Waters? Heating your essence with the Fire of the greatest Passions?

I am not the King of men, I am the King of Kings. Kings are not born, they are forged from the deepest Fires, tended by my kinsfolk, Hades, Vulcan. Kings are not pulled from between the legs of fair maidens, they are rendered forth from the ashes, pounded and struck into form by the hammers that turn soft, pretty gold into the emboldened blaze of steel. The Kings in my Kingdom are phantoms, born Dead. And oh, how I love them. All.

There is a great reason why the few, the secret, rule the many and the known. Most of those who haunt the living are not the dead, but those who ride the demon of fear, screaming and shrieking through the darkness of the night, never letting go, never releasing the love and lust of eternal life, the simpering pity of the love of "I". Some call it Ego. Others call it self. I call it You. And I am here to kill You.

A Daily Invocation of Nuit and Spirit

O Nuit!

Thrust me into the Night Sky so that I might know that I am part of your body and so that I therefore know my place in your Universe.

If I am to burn with light and be seen as a star it is because I live in dedication to You, and to my Spirit, for this is the light by which I can be guided unto You.

It is in my burning brightly that I serve. It is in the beauty that is a part of You that shines in my eyes that I teach, for Your love moves through my body in its rivers of blood, as it moves in the rivers of water and fire through the body of Gaia, for we are both Your children.

Teach me, O Nuit, so that I may have the wisdom of the flowers that know your secrets — that beauty and love of union are what make their nectar sweet.

Teach me, O Nuit, so that I may forget the burden of the admonitions of man, so that I may sing with the purity of the voices of the birds, for their Harmonies are but a reflection of Your voice, Your songs — Celestial, as both the whales and the planets sing the same song.

Teach me, O Nuit, so that each step that I take upon the body of Gaia is with the consciousness that I tread upon the bodies of my ancestors, and therefore each step I take must be an act of remembrance and honor unto the steps that they have taken before me. In this way we are continuous — as You are continuous.

O Nuit, help me to be as dark as You are, Unseen. So that I may remember the purpose of my body — so that my presence may be felt by others as a breeze that brightens and sparks the fire of their stars.

In the Presence of Angels

There are very few beings in cosmology who are truly sovereign. Amongst these beings there are Gods, and there are Angels. And the Angels, too, in their sovereignty align themselves also in service of something great, for that is the nature of their sovereignty. We, as Ophidians, are aligned with this power, for this is the true hierarchy of existence. And the demons answer to that which frustrates them, and therefore we Ophidians are also their masters.

There is no Providence in a war that begins out of a lust for power, for a slave can know no power. He can only know his lust for it, and the blood that pours from the wounds of his failures.

It is no lie that the Angels are Beauty — and that Beauty lies within the nature of that which exists in the fulfillment of its Truth, according to the essence of all of the Seven Principles. And so also Babalon wears the Crown of Truth, the Seven Pointed Crown of the Star that is the Gateway to all of the Realms. And all who have aligned with Her in this, the Greatest War, do so with the Honor of Truth and of Consequence.

All who are incarnate at this moment, even if unaware, have aligned themselves in this War. It might be prudent to ascertain which side one finds oneself on. For our enemies are fallen, even if at the moment of this writing, they have not yet learned it is so.

There is no strength in worshiping slaves, or enslavement. Yet, somehow, the magnificence of the Angelic Realm has fallen from what is fashionable. To follow what is fashionable is itself a form of enslavement. For those with autonomy of Spirit, those who are not dictated to by the trends of popular spiritual movement, know that no sword is wielded in the hand of a demon. It is the Angels and the Gods who hold the Swords of things such as Beauty, Dominion, Sovereignty of Spirit. And in Heka the Sword is the weapon not of the mind, not of the dagger of Air, but rather it cuts with the severity of Truth.

The Woman Girt with the Sword holds within her hand the truth of Existence, that which is dictated by the Seven Principles, the Crown upon the head of Babalon, the Wheel within Her hands. And it is this same Truth which the Serpent wound around the Tree of Life whispers to the Daughter, for She is the Prophet born from the deepest darkness of the Underworld itself. She is sent to tell mankind of the ways of the Darkness, and of the Mysteries of Existence. She is the Pythoness, the Seer, the Oracle.

And so, there is one secret I shall tell you now, and it is this: There is no such thing as salvation. Do not wait to be saved, for you shall not be. There is only Sovereignty of Spirit, and that which it chooses to Serve. So choose wisely, for your future will be dictated to by the choices that you make right now. Everything that you do each moment of each day is a choice made by you. It is a shame most do so without even a thought or consideration to the consequence of such decisions.

There is no shame in choosing to walk with glory. There are no shadows cast upon the soul of those who walk amongst the angels. There is no degradation in Beauty. And there is no despair. Death, Herself walks amongst the angels. For She, too, knows only Truth.

The Living Waters

Let me take your hand, my loves. I will guide you into the Waters. You are standing in the cool, flowing waters of a stream and though I have blindfolded you, you feel no fear. Only wonder at the movement of the stream around and over your skin. As you stand there, the constant motion becomes all that you know. It encompasses your being. It feels as if at any moment it will carry you away. And you say, “this must be god.” But remember, my loves—these are the Waters. This is but the language of the gods; the spirits. And because you are mortal, because you are fleshly, and because you are not a god, their words and songs overwhelm you. And you think that this current is the god. And because it moves you, you think that you are that god, too.

So let us take off that blindfold now. Let us look around and see and remember that you are but standing in the stream, and that the stream is Water, and that it flows and moves around you. But that Water has a source. So let us look for that source to better understand.

This is a degenerate age. It is degenerate for many reasons, one of which is the systematic separation of matter from Spirit. Anael, the archangel of Venus, teaches us that Venus is the Realm of the expression of all that is Spirit through matter. But man has been convinced by psychology, neo-Platonists, and Eastern thought that all is mind. This is false. All is in actuality Spirit. We who are incarnate into the physical Realm of flesh are spirits in flesh. So when we feel the Waters, we feel the importance of it, for this is the language we have forgotten when we crossed the River Lethe and became “man.” As your Priestess, I have died in flesh and returned to the Underworld through Lethe. So I remember and can teach you.

Now when we are standing in the Waters we feel the tremendous urgency of the energy that flows within that Water. We feel the urgency of that call, that voice, that movement. We yearn to it. We succumb to it. But when, my loves, do you give back to it? When do you give of your own essence unto the gods? For communication is between two or more beings, is it not? And when one takes and does not give, one is not in balance.

Where is this source of all that you feel as the Waters race around you? You have been told the source is an idea, but that too is false. The source is a being. A living being. If a spirit speaks: if you feel the energy of something all around you, if you are immersed in it, then there is a living being speaking to you. Do not be confused by the blindfold, or the Water. Seek that being, if it is one of your family. For we are all of the stars.

But remember, that which you align yourself with will become a part of your essence. So choose wisely. That which speaks is not always of you. Sometimes that which speaks wishes to consume you. The gods, the angels do not. They are Truth. They are beauty. Be wise.

Many, many people feel the presence of My Mother in these times, for it was foretold thousands of years ago that the body of Her presence shall shake the Earth. Many run to Her, many yearn to Her. But all have forgotten that She is a being. She is immense, and She is ancient. She is the source for much of what the world if feeling flow around their legs, flow around their sense of self, immersed in that racing river. But She will not give to you, though you can feel Her, unless you give of yourself, too. And this they used to call worship.

Devotion. Selfless giving. Service. This is love. There is no other.

Do what thou wilt shall be the whole of the Law. Love is the law, love under Will.

Sunday

There was an age when to be in the light of the Sun, we surrounded ourselves with Gold. Not that we needed that, but the people did. They could no longer understand that the Sun’s light was reflected upon the Moon, and not contained within the Gold as what some considered wealth, and status. It is in this way that Gold can be seen as Moonlight — the Sun reflected. But, the Moon is also Black.

Now, to be in the Sun, as the King, the mantle I wear is not the Gold of the Sun, but the clay of Gaia. I wear the clothing of our bodies’ Mother. For the Truth is that Wealth is within Her. The Gold is the lie that was sold to you. I am bejeweled in clay, and the feathers and fur of Her children. I am most comfortable wearing Her clothing, rather than Gold and Jewels. Those things are misunderstood, misused, and misdirected.

So, now, what is the Sun? When you close your eyes and feel His hands upon your face, His warmth, you feel His presence, His life-force that surrounds you in the day. But at night? He is not there. And one day, His Fire will be gone. But the Grandmother, who contains us all, will still be there. She is Black, filled with all of the Suns, all of the Fire, all of the Water, all of Spirit.

And this is how it always was.

(There are more writings to be added to this section. Please check back soon.)