Chapter One: "EARTHBOUND AGAIN"

Chapter One

EARTHBOUND AGAIN

Arkadia, Out of Time

The wheels of spring were turning in the timeless land of Arkadia and in the mortal plane below it. Up in the sky, three months before its transit across the face of the Sun, Venus was already shining its serene light on its pioneering children who had left it eons before. They now lived in Arkadia, a parallel dimension closer to the Earth, their neighboring planet. The Goddess Games were in full swing at that time of the year. The Blue Flames in the cores of the Arkadians, the Ancient Venusian Settlers, brimmed with the ecstasy of attraction, made even more magnetic by the frequency of their Native Star. The Soul Mates and Twin Flames among them would soon be drawn to merge into Sacred Union. On Earth, too, human hearts could not be spared from stirring to the tides of love.

That spring, Oscar O’Leary was in Paris, France, still dodging the lures of death and surviving what he called a meaningless existence. Hope, however faint, was still alive for the rekindling of the love between this complex man and the most evolved Venusian woman. At least for a little while longer.

The woman Oscar had loved was none other than the Arkadian Princess. At this point in the story, she was alone in her bedchamber, opening the window to welcome the warmth of the morning sun. Her sleepy green eyes were fixed on the cloudless sky as she was running her fingers through her hair, caressing it is if belonged to someone else. Blessed with the most comely human shape and the purest stellar essence, her movements were enthralling and elegant, like the contents of her mind.

Her Venusian name was Meta. Being of royal stock, she possessed all the classic Venusian traits. Her love-inspiring presence, imperscrutable and hypnotic stare and perfectly symmetric shape made her the champion of the Arkadian ideal. And she was a most stunning woman by human standards too. The Princess was one of the Ancient Founders of the Diamond Island of Arkadia, the Venusian Outpost that had long become their Earthly dwelling. Her human name, Kassandra, had now left her memory. Her mission had failed and the High Council was preparing her to return to Venus.  

The mating season had started. The bird-song’s sweetness, so light-hearted and wild, sounded irresistible. Meta could recognize a familiar longing for physical merging ripening in her body. She felt lonely - a very human emotion. Faint memories of nights of passion in the arms of her lover still emerged in her soul, untamed by the recent reprogramming that her mind had to undergo at the hands of the High Masters. The sun shone waves of gold on her long brown hair as she stretched out her arms, palms facing up, to invite two robins singing on the apple tree to come closer. She needed their company to take her mind off the gaping hole that was widening in her heart.  

“Do you know how lucky you are, my friends? You have found each other. You still need each other...”

The birds, a male and a female, had flown towards her and were now cooing and chirping away on her windowsill. They loved to be around the Princess. All kinds of living beings could easily tune into her Core Signature, to partake in the bliss of her nature. She, the clearest channel of the One Source there in Arkadia, was now watching her feathered visitors with great affection and curiosity, and a hint of jealousy. Their mating rituals were driven by the Life Force, and their mutual desire reminded her of a happy time when she, too, had become vulnerable to romantic love. Now her connection with the Source had to be constant. Longing was no longer necessary or advisable at the level of the Goddess Games that she had reached, as the High Masters kept telling her.

Meta’s apartments were in the Ivory Palace, the isolation quarters where Perfected Channels like her were lodged. Here, they could shine their Light in direct connection with the Universe, undisturbed by the opposing polarity of the Earth below, before ascending back to Venus. At last, the Princess’s life had a purpose again, if not the one she was born to fulfill. In Arkadia, it was considered a great gift to feel the Power of Eternity to the extent that she could. So why wasn’t she experiencing complete peace? She didn’t seem to have any agency or any personal answers anymore. Most of her thoughts were now coming straight from the Source, as if she were a mere spectator of her beautiful mind-scape. She had no Twin Flame either, she had been informed. Nor would she have one in the future, once she returned to the Native Star. 

Kyrius, her father and the Arkadian King, had decided to keep his only daughter in the sanctum of the Palace, where she could ponder over the Truth. This was necessary before she could be granted a farewell visit to the physical dimension in her human incarnation. In the meantime, uninterrupted connection with the Source was the only way to stop her from thinking about Oscar O’Leary, her human lover.

It had to be done. Her memories of that relationship were bringing low resonance to the Holy Precincts of Elysia, Arkadia’s capital city. To her father’s relief, Meta’s thoughts were now vibrating at such a high rate again that she should have no notion left of the man she had loved, and how he had broken her heart. No dense frequency was allowed to enter Arkadia at that delicate junction in Planetary Evolution. The Council of the High Masters had had no other option but to delete any recollection of the temperamental Irish artist from the Princess’s mental files. 

Without announcement, the disembodied voice of Prince Lumiel filled Meta’s chamber, shifting her attention away from the lovebirds and the longings of her heart.

“I sense it’s time for another visit to Earth, sister. Are you ready?”

Lumiel’s thoughts had the characteristic musical tinkle of Arkadian speech. Although her brother was elsewhere in Elysia, the cells in Meta’s body recognized the familiar pitch and harmonized with the content of the message at once. His tone was grave, given the momentous occasion that awaited the stellar Princess. Yet mysterious waves of mischief were enmeshed in his words, and she was glad to feel them.

“I get the message, Lu, the full message...”

Her lips gave way to a smile and the Blue Flame started to radiate from her heart like a beacon. The joy that sprinkled from her Core was effortless and almost liquid. Her feathered visitors stopped their song to inhale the atoms in the air around her. She turned away from the window and caught her reflection in the mirror. The moment she did, she gave out a sigh, as she would every time she saw her face’s reflection. Unbeknown to her, her own features would always remind her subconsciously of the face of her lover, her Soul Gestalt, her Alchemical Husband, her Twin Flame.

“I heard you, Meta! And I also feel a strange vacuum in that precious heart of yours”, Lumiel said from his mansion by the Crystal Lake.

He knew that his sister was still in love with a man whose Blue Flame had only been partially kindled, and then left unattended by her forced return to Arkadia. She wasn’t conscious of it, but the cells of her body carried the imprint of the love that Oscar had given her, and taken away. The Ancient Venusian Prophecy could still come true if Meta continued to carry the torch for the future of the host planet.

But she had forgotten. She had been made to forget because something had gone wrong with the Arkadian Plan. Right at that moment, the Council was in session. The High Masters would soon reach a decision that could help her make amends with her past: whether she should be allowed to see Oscar one final time before taking her journey back to Venus.

Meta wasn’t supposed to know any of this. But Lumiel couldn’t keep his telepathic mouth shut. The least that he could do for his sister was to instill some information in advance. He wanted her to heal her past. He loved the Earth as much as she did. Although he wasn’t sure anymore that the other Arkadians were as enamored with the third dimension, the Earth’s physical realm, as he and Meta were. Not many Arkadians really understood humanity as well as the Royal Siblings did. And no, he had no intention of going back to Venus.

 Meta had never stopped longing to see her former lover again. It didn’t matter that the Council had removed most of her memories from her mental files. Her True Identity was firmly fixed in the Blue Flame in her heart and it still held on to those human feelings she had experienced in Oscar’s arms. The Flame, a speckle of the Primordial Thought in the Mind of the Universe, creates all life-forms around it. It is holy and nobody can alter it. Not even the Council can interfere with it. A vague remembrance of her lover had nested in her body cells, ready to be reactivated at the right time, once it had become refined and could resonate with the Arkadian Plan once more. It couldn’t be otherwise: love is the only rule there is in the Goddess Games. 

“I really hope they’ll let me go back to Ireland... that’s where I must go, one more time... and may Arkadia stay safe and bright in my absence. I don’t even know what reason is calling me to leave this place, but I can’t look at myself in the mirror without feeling that something is missing in me. I am incomplete, partial... longing has entered my soul... so much for being a Perfected Channel... I feel complete only when I don’t think about myself...”

Lumiel was delighted that his sister was directing her energy back to a low frequency. That would help her descent into matter, which would also open the path for his own return to the material plane. Lady Myriam, his Twin Flame, wouldn’t be disappointed with his secret designs this time. He cast his glance across the imperturbable blue pond and allowed his thoughts to become still.

“You will remember, dear Meta, and it will all be okay again”.

In days of old, her thoughts had been fueled by the passion that she felt for her Twin Flame, and he for her. Then their interwoven destinies had been torn apart. The Ancient Venusian Prophecy had announced the cross-fertilization of Venusians and Humans through the act of love. Meta was born to be the first Venusian with the right amount of human features to kick-start this evolutionary momentum. She had found her human mirror in Oscar O’Leary, and all had seemed to go according to the Arkadian Plan. But their love story had turned sour in the end. The hurts inflicted on her emotions had left scars that the Light Frequency of the Arkadian Island couldn’t tolerate. 

Arkadia was in the fifth dimension where matter existed in its potential state, as a perfect idea in the Mind of the Source. The island’s very existence relied upon the harmonized drone produced by the sounds of its inhabitants’ Cores. The frequencies emitted by their Royalty were of particular importance. The place was founded on the almost constant connection that its population could maintain with the Source of Creation, and the tones produced by their thought-waves in unison with the resonance of the Sacred Stones in the Temple Mountain. Arkadia was now taking on more Earthly undertones and becoming heavier, partly because of Meta’s heartache, despite its being shadowed by forgetfulness.

Meanwhile, Time itself was changing its essence back on Earth, and acquiring more Venusian, more refined connotations. Its marks on the plane of matter were becoming less pronounced. In the spring of 2012, it looked as though the Earth was following the Way of the Universe, and Arkadia had to give up some of its Light to facilitate the process. Although humans would still forget easily that love is the direction and fear is the illusion, and despite the fact that their physical vessels were still made of gross matter that tended to pull everything into a third-dimensional frequency, the Way of the Universe is unbeatable.

“Meta, remember that you must keep your heart on love, and only love, in your travels, as that’s the only direction there is...”

Lumiel’s words were soothing and meaningful. The Princess could sense the Blue Flame shimmering in her chest in anticipation. She had been put in isolation. They had told her it was the most prized recognition. She was the Highest of the High now. But she didn’t believe them anymore. She was merely wearing a brave face. Soon, as her rebellious brother kept reassuring her, doubt would lower her frequency and help her condense into matter, irreversibly. This way, whether the Council agreed or not, she would find herself in the third dimension, where she could stay as long as she liked.

For a little while longer, Arkadian procedure had to be followed and rules had to be respected. The Arkadian Masters still wanted to help, it was obvious. But she had chosen to do things her own way, and her decision was final. A knock came on the door and her train of thoughts was suddenly cut short.

“Meta... I’ve come to accompany you to the Hall”.

“Mother”, the Princess said as she curtsied to the Queen.

Their two auras merged into vibrant sapphire as their shapes dissolved and disappeared. Then Meta looked around and noticed that the backdrop had changed. Under the opulent vaults of the Diamond Lodge, her slight silhouette now stood alone in front of the Council. The High Masters had reached their decision and she didn’t even need to hear their words. Their thoughts were a deep, low sound, throbbing harmoniously. She could sense it permeate all the sinews and bones in her body as it was becoming heavier and more solid. Her hands were shaking. Descent into matter was approaching. Any attempt to resist would be futile now.

Then she remembered - something had gone wrong with the Venusian Prophecy. Humankind hadn’t evolved into their foretold stellar potential. Had she failed her people? How had she ended up in Arkadia again? She had to go back to Earth, to find someone who had become lost, who had made the wrong choice and taken the wrong turn, following the lures of the Dark Forces. The Council wanted her to fix his mistake. Did they blame her for it? That couldn’t be the case, Arkadians were not capable of low feelings. He, whoever he was... it was he who was blaming himself, and she was feeling his pain.

“The Venusian Plan can’t fail,” the King was saying. “You must find him.” 

Meta’s head was spinning now, as if some of her thoughts were being vacuumed out of her brain. Perhaps they were.

“Find who? And why me?”

She couldn’t recollect any particular face or name yet. Her heart was pounding and pulling her towards her destiny again, to her life as a woman, a star woman, a woman in love. There was no time left for explanations: the right space-time junction was drawing near.

“You will remember once you reach the Earth, time-coordinates 21-03-2012. We cannot intervene. Only your True Identity can guide you. Only the Source can mentor the one you’re looking for, so you must always act in line with the Source. You must realign him with the Plan if you can, if you want to stop humanity’s fate from plunging into even lower depths.”

Meta’s eyes were like saucers and her lips were lost for words. She felt numb and drained of all energy. But the Star Seed in her heart was like a sparkling wheel. Then silence fell on the Hall like a heavy curtain, torn apart by the sudden metallic noise of the door to the Teleportation Room now opening behind her. The Princess dragged her feet towards it, looking every inch the sacrificial victim. On the threshold, she stopped to cast one last, disconsolate glance at those familiar faces.

“Goodbye, Arkadia. This time I’m done with you”, she said. And she stepped into her past.

Hill of Tara, Ireland, Spring Equinox 2012

The hard surface of a rock welcomed my landing and I was jolted back from the World of Light into the material world. I looked around. The sacred spring was just a couple of steps away. I was in the right place, no doubt: the holy ground they call “Tara of the Kings”. Which to me would always be Tara of the Heart: the site of the ancient choice, and the hill that keeps the mark of our promise. 
The Tara Interdimensional Portal I had come through had been used for ages by Venusians and humans alike. The ancient people of Ireland were familiar with its true function, and it was no coincidence they had placed their tribes’ seat of power at this magical junction. And no surprise that you and I would always be drawn to this place. 

I shook the dust off my clothes and rejoiced at the found-again solidity of my limbs, jumping up and down on the spot to appreciate the power of gravity. I was grounded and unscathed. Descent from Light into matter could still be risky, even for a consumed time-traveler like myself. I wasn’t concerned for the safety of my physical vessel. The danger was that traveling back in time could have played havoc with my mind. So I closed my eyes and scanned my memory. It was all in one piece, it seemed, and responding to old triggers. Your face came back to my mind’s eye at once. And my heart expanded, or so it seemed.

“Oscar, my love.”

I was on a mission to find you. The thought of you made me smile. My human name also returned to my consciousness.

“Kassandra. I am Kassandra. I’m back.”

A buzzing sound came from the pocket of my coat. It came from my iPhone. The calendar app had just sent me a reminder:

Meet Oscar at Tara, 21 March 2012, 14:30 PM.

All those years ago, I had summoned you here on the first day of spring, to resurrect our love if needed, if the wrong turn on our paths had ever made us part. Our love must have died then, I realized. Never mind. Here I was again, to bring it back to life with all of my heart’s might, to let the Blue Flame guide us back to the Truth of our bond.

“I’m looking for you. Hello? Oscar? Can you hear me?”

My voice sounded sweet as it pleaded you to appear. I listened for your telepathic answer but no sound was forthcoming. Just whirling feelings rising inside my chest like a tornado, and the cavalcade of my blood throbbing in my veins. What was going on? It felt as though the lies that I had been fed by the Dark Forces were being whipped out of the alcoves of my recollection, to be scattered to the Irish wind. I was being freed from that mistake, and we were being given our second chance.  

The Earth was our powerful ally. It was quite different from when I had left it years before. It still looked the same, though fear had since spread everywhere, taking on a number of disguises. I understood the planet needed our love to be, as much as we needed each other. Trepidant joy returned to my perspective. No need to waste any more time. I tuned into the environment to detect your frequency; we had to meet soon. I forced myself to ignore the nagging voice of the ghost of my ego, and its pointless message. I had to trust that you would be coming to our appointment. I had to put my love for you over everything else. 

“Doubt has no reason to be here.”

The song of the stream intertwined with the sound of my whispering voice. In union with the environment, I was alone but I was connected with you again. Suddenly my cells started to reverberate to the unique signature we had created with our Alchemical Marriage. I became sure I was talking to you.

“Oscar! My love! You still understand the Secret Language!”

My eyes lingered on the place where we had sealed our pact fifteen years earlier, as if they expected to see you there. In my mind, I held the picture of your hazel eyes, the curve of the cupid bow of your upper lip, your tapered fingers moving towards my face. My blood felt the thrill of recognition, as if you were there, holding me in your arms, as if it were still happening. 

Memories flooded in. We were still young: eternity was within reach of our hands and sunshine was in our hearts. We thought we had seen the back of all our past troubles. In those carefree days, we didn’t know that the Darkness would later plague our lives again. Well, we had known shadows before, so it wasn’t in our plans to experience the tragedy that would unfold. 

I kept talking. I was certain then that my words would find you, my Twin Flame. The woman in love took over what little Venusian poise was left in me. I wanted to make love with you, become one with the land, with the air around me. Yet I felt so vulnerable and human.

“I’m back from a parallel future without you. Crumbs from that future are still stuck in my hair so I am not sure if my return is complete, or if you can hear what I’m saying now. Yet you did understand me during our glorious time together. I would speak to the clouds and you could hear me. Now I don’t even know if you remember my face anymore. The face you would gaze at in silence, for minutes, your eyes and my eyes locked into bliss time couldn’t enter... I see you’ve managed to cloud your mind without the torch I carried for you, without the Light I shared with you. Oh darling, you’re so hopeless…”

I remembered that I had also been very angry with you because you had hurt me to the bone. And that I had forgiven you anyway. 

Harmonious sounds were emerging from the landscape and from my soul. Church bells were ringing in the distance. I ran my fingers through the water of the spring, caressing it as if it were your hair. I welcomed back that divided sensation I always felt when I loved you like a woman: torn between the wholeness you brought to me and the threat of knowing you might also take it away from me, as you had done before. 

“Our dance was erratic at best, traumatic as a rule. My instinct tells me you still need my help, like many times before. I am starting to believe that you are beyond repair. It’s always been like that with you. But I won’t give up. I had to come from the future to be at your side, to get you out any hole you might have dug yourself into. Will you ever learn from your mistakes? Why do you always let your mind travel back to the past? You carry that past with you and by that very past you let yourself be defined. Let’s blame it on your human ancestry, on your romantic streak...”

If you heard me, you were probably starting to be pissed off at me for being on what you would call my 'high horse'. I looked at the sky and all around me. Fluffy clouds parted over the vast, quiet backdrop. A ray of sunshine fell on the encircling pastures. Cows were grazing absent-mindedly. Everything reminded me of you. And the Earth, my powerful ally, was paying close attention to my actions again.

“I’m here to resurrect our relationship. I have to. This way we may meet again and patch up those seams in our souls we tore apart. There is another way, Oscar, and we can find it. Bear with me (despite your attention deficit, I thought). I’m not mad with you, I swear. So please don’t be angry with me. I don’t care about the Plan or the Prophecy. I just want you back. You know, a Star Woman’s words are full of Power, and they can cut like a knife. So I am choosing mine carefully.” 

Up in the sky, an airplane commenced its descent over Dublin Bay and into the city’s airport. You were on it, headphones on, gazing out of the window. The second you felt my caress, your eyes turned the color of the night. You right hand moved to your chest - your heart was racing.

Back at Tara, I continued my seeming conversation with the water.

“My heart keeps the record of the past nineteen eventful years. What they feel like from my point of view. From the comfort of my future stance, I looked back on facts and people, and us. What happened between us never fails to surprise me. The whole idea that the Darkness sold you... that the love we made was too much for you to hold on to... My heart still leaps at the memory of us together, the emotional content of our merge, the powerful union of man and woman: two bodies becoming one soul. I was born to find you, not to let you go.”

I was crying. I wasn’t sad. I was just opening up, unlocking the fortress. After all those years, that lump in my throat stirred itself awake. The emotions it held captive crept out and wanted to be heard. We had loved so well. How could we let our love die? And could we ever breathe life into it again? I felt hollow, empty, and then lighter. That was the definite sign I had landed back into your life. I knew that you could at least sense my influence there and then, in your world. 

“In those years before I met you I was driven by a relentless force, by an incredible amount of love. My life was pulled in your direction, although I didn’t know it at the time. You were my purpose. Your heart is a magnet to me. Where has it gone now? What tune is it dancing to? Is it still dancing, I wonder… Can you not see what has become of you?”

A flock of ravens cackled above the plain. A warm breeze rose and caressed my suntanned face in its trail. Back on the airplane, your iPod was playing a Doors’ song whose words held meaning to you:  

“Awake. Shake dreams from your hair my pretty child, my sweet one.” ^[[1]]

When it ended, you removed your headphones and looked at the sea below the aircraft. The water was speaking to you in the Secret Language. Delivering my message. You struggled not to listen but you couldn’t help it. When you gave in, my name became a comforting mantra in your mind.

I rose my voice. “You are thinking about me too. You long to see me. Mirror, mirror of my soul... I can cast my glance everywhere from here. The call of eternity runs in my veins. Can you feel it?”

I paused and listened for an insight both within me and without me. I scrolled the valley with my glance, dwelling on the outline of Mellifont Abbey. Memories of us were jumping out of every corner. The rolling hills reassured me with their greenest silence. The air carried traces of the scent of your skin: musky, I could almost touch your taut muscles in the heat of passion. I shivered as my second sight detected you. My spirit started to absorb your essence. It became as vast as the sky.

“You’ve kept your word. You are approaching. And I have kept mine. I’ve come from the future into your past to take you with me or say goodbye. If you trust me, I will guide you down the alcoves of our adventure. This is our final chance.”

A leaf from the fairy tree under which I was standing fell into the spring water. I watched it flow down the stream that runs alongside the road. The Earth’s watercourses are the best channel to communicate emotions from soul to soul. The spell was cast, my message had been sent and you would soon be near me. I stood up and closed the Gate of Timelessness behind me. I was going to be human for a little while longer, and maybe for good.

Light rain began to fall as I made my way to the cottages by the visitors’ entrance. Polly and Letizia would be waiting for me in the coffee shop, over tea and scones. I loved the way my two friends still found my appearances startling, although I always announced them in advance through telepathy. As I turned the doorknob, a blue and red butterfly landed on my hand. Message received. I thanked the Earth for sending me a sign pointing me in the right direction. At that moment, all my powers came back at once and my soul turned gold again. It was just a matter of minutes now, before you would turn up and we would be standing face to face again.

Waiting for Kassandra - 21 March 2012

When Kassandra landed back on the Hill of Tara in time for her appointment, her girlfriends were already in the souvenir shop adjacent to the cafeteria. The place would normally be packed with visitors in the summer months but it was pleasantly quiet at this time of the year. It was no surprise that Kassie had wanted to meet them there. The three women had a special connection with this ancient site.

Letizia had baptized her firstborn here, according to the Goddess Tradition, on the Spring Equinox seven years earlier. The ceremony had been held on Tara’s holy ground, by the Stone of Destiny. Kassie had officiated the rites, with Polly as the godmother. Letizia had preferred to present her beautiful Daniel to the Mother before his traditional religious christening. Now the trio would be back together, to rekindle their bond as daughters of the Goddess.

Polly and Letizia were excited about that afternoon’s rendezvous. It had been a while since they'd last seen their unconventional friend. Always full of surprises, a year or so earlier she had informed them that she needed to disappear from the social radar for a while. Just like that, out of the blue. Nobody knew where she had been or what she had been up to since. Kassandra was the most unpredictable person they knew. But they trusted her completely with her life choices. No matter how deeply she may end up in the Darkness, love would always sway her back to the Path of Love.

Once again, she had left them in total oblivion of her deeds and given them cause for much speculation. Until a week previously, when she had contacted both friends telepathically, to let them know that she was soon to be back in Dublin and would love to see them on the Equinox. They should be warned, she had added, that the man she loved would be coming along too. "Oh no!!!!" were the words that had screamed in her friends' minds at the last piece of news.

The appointment was at 2 pm. The women had arrived ten minutes early. No sign of Kassandra yet. But she was already at Tara and was now walking away from the sacred spring in the direction of the cafeteria. In the meantime, Letizia was flicking through books on Celtic art. Polly was eyeing the cupcakes and scones on display - any turmoil in her emotions would always command the complete attention of her stomach. She pulled Letizia away from the shelves and into the eating area.    

“Do you think we will still get on with her like in the good old days?”

“Come on, Polly, be a bit more hopeful! It’s only been a year, and she’s just coming out of that strange period of isolation. She’s always been very hard to read, we know. But she’s the most heart-centered person in the world. And she’s perfectly aligned with her True Identity. We can only, as always, get on famously. I am more concerned with Oscar to be honest. He’s the one who seems to lose the plot on a regular basis...”

“Well, let’s see if he turns up at all. It wouldn’t be the first time he’s let her down...”

Polly’s eyes darkened. She went to sit at the table by the window and started studying the trees and berry bushes outside. Nature’s spirits already knew what that afternoon had in store. She wished she could elicit that information in advance. But the only response that came from the world outside was the sound of raindrops falling on leaves.

Rehab,  Dublin,  April 2011

Why had Kassandra disappeared twelve or so months before hers and Oscar’s appointment at the Hill of Tara? Where was she? The setting where we find them  one year earlier is completely different, despite being similarly  set in a green and lush environment. We encounter our couple in the famous Hermitage, the five-star rehabilitation clinic in the south of Dublin where rich and troubled souls the world over come looking for some peace of mind and hardcore detox.

 Oscar has recognized her silhouette straight away as she is heading to sit under the porch in the rose garden. At first, he had tried to hold back for a few minutes before approaching her. His body was hungry for her, of course, and there was nothing he could do about it. But at least the sight of her face can now satisfy his eyes, if only for a stolen while. Kassandra is such a poignant vision of beauty. He wishes he’d brought along his drawing pad and pencils. He can’t really resist that long, can he? So he goes over and sits next to her.

“Is that your journal, Kassie? Are you writing about me?”

Kassandra looks up from the page and her eyes meet Oscar’s grinning face. She smiles and nods at him.

“Well, yeah, I might very well have mentioned you in here,” she winks at him. “It’s a stream-of-consciousness exercise. I like to jot down the random thoughts that emerge in my head-space because sometimes they do take over and rule the entire thinking process. I follow them in writing, to see where they take me, where my imagination is leading me...  there is truth in these words, even when they don’t make much sense. My memories can come across in an erratic manner sometimes...”

They are flirting even under testing circumstances. They are supposed to feel guilty about their liaison, but they don’t. 

“Would you like me to have a look at these bizarre thoughts of yours then? I don’t think they can be any weirder than my own ideas...”.

Kassandra feigns surprise. 

“I didn’t mean to say there is anything strange in what I wrote. This might sound a bit far-fetched perhaps, and I don’t really know the full purpose of this exercise as yet, but anyway, for what it’s worth...”

Oscar puts his hand on Kassandra’s arm. When he touches her, their exchange of energy silences their words for a few seconds. She had been longing for that contact for the past two days. That’s why she had decided to bring her diary along when she went out on her afternoon walk. Oscar is a man of a curious disposition. She was certain that he would stop to inquire about the content of her scribbling.   

“Here, have a look”, she says. “This is the real me, not the woman that these doctors otherwise insist that I am...”

Oscar takes her diary and reads the opening paragraph.

I, Kassandra Morgante, High Master of the Blue Flame, am writing this for you, Oscar O’Leary, with the intention that you will ask me to read it.

“Wow”, he says, and then lifts his eyes from the page to look at Kassandra. She is now laughing.

“It seems that you always get what you want from me, Miss Morgante...”

Kassandra notices that Oscar’s aura is turning to gold too quickly. He isn’t yet ready to absorb the information contained in her words. His passionate, very human nature is still prevailing, which endears him to her even more.

“You can read another couple of sentences, but that’s all...”

“Ok, boss! I’ll read aloud then, until it’s allowed.”

You have found me because I am your kin and True Friend. I am the only woman who can talk to your Star Heart. I will be your direction when you are ready to tap into the deepest part of your heart that calls for healing.

Oscar’s weak heart is racing already. He shouldn’t go any further. So Kassandra places her hands on the following lines of text.

“Stop now, that’s it. You get the gist”.

The journal ends up on the bench. Their tongues start to explore the depths of their mutual longing. Rapture of the senses. Another day in purgatory, which is a good day for them nonetheless.

Kassandra’s Journal (full entry)

9 April 2011

I, Kassandra Morgante, High Master of the Blue Flame, am writing this for you, Oscar O’Leary, with the intention that you will ask me to read it.

You have found me because I am your kin and True Friend. I am the only woman who can talk to your Star Heart. I will be your direction when you are ready to tap into the deepest part of your heart that calls for healing.

One day you will understand why I live the way I do, and you will see the world from my perspective. I am of Venusian stock and I bring good tidings. And you are a true shaman and a gentleman, one whom a Star Woman like myself can’t resist. Your intuition is well developed, and at some level, you remember the true nature of our relationship.

I was born to fulfill a Prophecy and help the evolution of our broken-hearted humankind into a race of immortal beings. You’re not given to know this now, because you can only bear with me to the extent to which your attention can handle my words. But one day soon, you will understand why I can talk to the deepest longings in a woman’s dreams and I can whisper seductive words into the ears of the toughest man, and make his fortress crumble. When my Power will be fully fledged, I will become invincible. We will be invulnerable.

But right now, it isn’t so. And it wasn’t so when I used to be a spoiled brat who was often in denial of the gifts that I was born with. My True Nature only came to the fore when my path crossed yours, Oscar. When we met, I fell in love with the very complex, self-loathing yet generous man that you are. In our encounter, and in the love we made and shared, a new humanity became possible: our own. This is the account of how I learned to love you completely, despite the many obstacles on the way to the fulfillment of our love.

My ancestry is part human and part stellar, much like yours, much like that of all of us on this planet. The difference between you and me is simply that I am programmed to remember my True Identity, and I am willing to share the path that took me there. It is not difficult to find the way back to your True Home and your True Destiny. But it does require some alternative thinking. And memories have to emerge from your own psyche to be original, to be aligned with the One Source. I hope that my presence can engage your attention and help you find your way back to that connection. Our relationship can provide you with a bit of a short cut, with a bridge across dimensions. Our union is a symbol of broader processes going on in the human species at present. 

Don’t listen to what they tell you. There is nothing wrong with the yearnings of your heart, and that feeling of alienation that overwhelms you sometimes. It’s your Star Seed calling you to the Light. But the ego has no use for an enlightened mind. So, as soon as life’s problems present themselves on the path, the human tendency is to lose sight of many aspects of our Souls. They then become Shadow Aspects that need to be expressed. Over time, we forget that they are illusions. Time has the habit of wiping the memory of our True Origin from our mind. But rest assured; your heart never let go of the Truth. I am here to re-awaken the Star Seed in your heart. 

My merge with you, my True Lover, can be read like a fairy-tale in consciousness. It operates on many levels if you decipher the signs accurately. But you must be willing to walk on the Way of the Truth, and unlearn all of the ego’s lies. I know, not all the steps may seem that clear to you, but they are true. And the Truth will always take you Home to Arkadia, the Land of Gods and Goddesses. Arkadia won’t be elsewhere in space and time once you become its living memory. Arkadia will be here, now. Look for parallels between my love for you and how you felt in relation to me. May my story mirror your awakening to your heart’s call. This is the reason why I am starting to disclose it.

I remember, my Friend, that Life on Earth is an adventure in consciousness. Magic and wonder are possible. It takes a little bit of work and lots of enthusiasm. Are you ready to start the journey? It has many endings but just one beginning. Find it, and every step on the path will pan out. Trust me. Let’s go. Again.

[Continue reading Chapter Two: HYBRID YEARS]

Two - "HYBRID YEARS"

[back to Chapter One]

Two

HYBRID YEARS

The ‘Invisibles’

Immortality, super powers, evolution… Did I always remember my True Identity? Not really. The existing common ground between me and humans often tricked me into assuming that I was a female member of the homo sapiens sapiens species. As a child, I looked like any other girl, and I seemed to be developing according to the same phases of growth as the rest of them. But my flesh and blood were made of a more refined, more enduring substance. My physical shape was unchangeably bound to symmetry and harmony. And my DNA possessed knowledge of a kind that only a few enlightened people during humanity’s past history had managed to unravel. So how come I didn’t always remember that I was of Venusian Stock?

The little catch was in the shape of a small problem that I shared with all human beings. The only way for me to retrieve memories of my true, stellar origin was to keep my heart focused only on the feeling called love. 24/7. Uninterruptedly. So that my human body could completely transform into its upgraded, human-stellar cross-fertilized version. That was the only way I could transmute into becoming a fully-fledged Star Woman one day. An immortal human being.

On that fateful day, I knew that Oscar would be there to share in my unfaltering love. At least for a while. But then he would have to make a choice: to become like me by love-fuelled osmosis, as prophesied by the Arkadian Plan, or reject me and miss the most miraculous opportunity the planet could witness.

But of course I didn’t know as much in my early years. My early life of a Star Girl on Earth was often very dramatic. Events around me would always mirror inner evolutionary processes taking place in my body and psyche, and in the collective subconscious of humanity at large. I had to learn to read them as such. It wasn’t easy - my human component was very strong and I was quite attached to it. There in the third dimension, in the mortal plane, there would always be two forces trying to influence my actions. The Dark Forces would try to stop my evolution. They loved the status quo on Earth. And the Arkadian Forces would try to speed me on my path to transformation. They were my helpers and kin.

I was born an only child equipped with a vast imagination. If the world around me was dull sometimes, and complicated and tragic at others, my thoughts could always take me on wonderful adventures. Daydreaming became my favorite past time, with reading fantastic adventures as a close second. By the time I was four, I had a multitude of friends that no one else could see but me. Some of them were palm-sized shiny people who lived among the trees and plants of our family’s landscaped garden at Villa Rosa, in the Asti Valley of Northern Italy. Others were bigger and resembled angels in their appearance. They had colorful waves all around them, just like wings. I couldn’t quite decide if they were angel-children or grown-up fairies. Some were a cross between the two types. They looked a little bit like me too.

At the start, these visitors didn’t speak to me. So there was no way I could ask them to tell me more about their identity. It was only on the day when my dad left me and my mum that my “imaginary” friends made their tinkling sound heard for the first time. Dimly at first, and then very distinctly. Over the following year, their shapes became visible. They were not material yet, but more like liquid holograms. In time, we also learned to communicate through feelings, and eventually I could emote with the content of their minds. I didn’t know what to make of those encounters at first. I was a child and my logical mind wasn’t in the forefront yet. So I limited myself to enjoy the company of my shiny friends, especially once mum also followed dad, leaving me behind.

By the time I moved in with the Hughes, my adoptive family, the ‘invisibles’, as I called them, had become my regular playtime companions. I tried to introduce them to my brother Rufus and the neighbors’ daughter Letizia, but to no avail. My two friends couldn’t see them and agreed that my imagination must have run wild again. As they didn’t want to upset me, given that my real mum and dad were no longer with me, they still went along with what they thought was a game I had made up.

But the ‘invisibles’ were real beings who were very useful to me in those formative years. They helped me keep my heart from sadness and onto the more productive joyful frequency that they called the Ancient Tune, the harmonious melody emitted by the planet. All living species on the Earth, they taught me, are born attuned to it, although humans in their current state of evolution find it difficult, past their childhood years, to detect this life-giving hum through their physical senses. I needed the help of the ‘invisibles’ to let this sound fill my cells and allow for the Venusian blueprint to come to the fore through my flesh and bones. 

The ‘invisibles’ were happy creatures, and their visits always filled me with a sense of peace and awe. They informed me that I was capable of traveling across dimensions with my mind and emotions, and that I could always connect with those people and events, even in the future, that were milestones in the unfolding of my destiny.

Their visits stopped short before I was about to be sent to one of the best private schools in the world. I was twelve at the time, and my hormones were starting to adjust to my transforming body. It was a time of change and I was in transit between the old and the new phase in my life. Although I didn’t know, the ‘invisibles’ left me with their legacy before their disappearance.

Edinburgh, summer 1980

My first visit to Scotland coincided with a family holiday in 1980. We left Glasgow and drove through the rugged landscape surrounding the bonnie banks of Loch Lomond, up to the ruins of Urquhart Castle, perched up on a promontory overlooking the mysterious Loch Ness. By the time we reached our five star hotel outside Inverness on the same evening, I had fallen in love with the wilderness of that land and its unkempt majesty. The views I had absorbed oozed mystery and magic. Although the lochs and valleys spoke of ancient times of war, weeping and doom, the rolling mist above them whispered old words of love.

I was surprised by the effect that the Scottish landscape had on my emotions. I had expected to be bored. I was a precocious teenager back then, allured by the British new wave and the Goth movement. My family and I had lived in Italy throughout my primary school studies. But that summer before secondary school, my adoptive parents had decided to move back to their native Sussex. Rufus and I had welcomed the news with elation. London would be a stone’s throw away, we thought, and with it, concerts, fashionable stores and a wealth of exciting, new cultural trends.

But I soon discovered that Lord and Lady Hughes had different plans for me. In keeping with the family tradition, I would be boarding in the same school in Edinburgh where Henrietta had studied, and where my sister Ruby would soon be completing her final year. If that summer holiday was my parents’ attempt to make me fall in love with the Land of Alba, they had succeeded. 

My heart felt at home in Scotland. I was meant to go there for many reasons, some of which I could only intuit. The light had a timeless, otherworldly quality in the Highlands. I understood that I was on the cusp of something I couldn’t quite pin down, but which held my soul in its hands nonetheless. Strong, sudden sensations of longing came to inhabit my chest there. At first, I interpreted them as my soul telling me that I was going to become and artist. Or perhaps I was going to fall in love soon. Or both. I had wanted to fall in love since my 12th birthday. With a boy who was my perfect match as chosen by the Power of Creation itself. But how could that happen when I was soon going to be a boarder at the most prestigious all girls’ school in the country? And when I had barely entered adulthood after all? Ah, human love...

My biological parents, Laura and Lorenzo, had been in love with each other. Yet their passion had burned their minds out too fast. I was the physical fruit of that initial flame. Now I was entering adolescence and I had learned not to miss them, nor resent them. I had to let them go, that was all. That longing I was starting to feel had nothing to do with the tragedies of my past. They were not mine, they didn’t belong to me. That yearning I was feeling was a call for my own freedom. I was growing up and it was time to find the way to let my life develop along it course. Lord and Lady Hughes had chosen wisely for me, although the reasons for which Scotland felt like home still eluded me and were far from what my adoptive parents had in mind.

I moved into St Arnold’s Girls’ School in August that year, with eleven other first graders. My older sister was there to greet me and help me through the first days of my life away from our parents. When she met me in the hall, she looked grown up and elegant, even in the burgundy jacket and gray skirt that we had to wear at all times when we were on school grounds. She was delighted to see me and squeezed me into a bear hug.

“You’re not going to like wearing this, Kassie. None of us does. But if I can look this good in it”, she gave me a twirl, “so can you”.

She was a very attractive young woman. Her shape was different from mine: her body was voluptuous and markedly feminine, in contrast with my waif-like limbs. Her beauty was earthy and sensual, while mine was overwhelming and otherworldly in its symmetry. We would always be the gestalt of womanhood. The best thing about the year ahead was going to be the opportunity to spend time with my sister. She was a legend to me, like older siblings tend to be to their younger ones.

While my bond with Rufus was one of affection and fun, that with Ruby was more to do with the acknowledgment of a spiritual affinity, albeit from a distance up to that point. Ruby and I had always liked each other despite the six-year gap between us. We understood that we were special people, endowed with special powers. We had never talked about it as yet. It was just a gut feeling, a telepathic symbiosis. And just like me, she always managed to get what she wanted if she put her unfaltering mind to it. We had never spent much time together before as she would only visit our family during her school holidays. Now I would have her company for nine months. She was going to be my first mentor, I knew.

Ruby loved to travel and had been on the Orient Express the previous summer. Our parents didn’t mind sponsoring her cultural curiosity. I was dying to find out about her latest adventures. Before departing, she had announced to the family that she was about to embark on a quest to find her true purpose in life, in order to select the most appropriate academic pathway in the following year. She leaned towards studying psychology and languages but had not made up her mind yet. The true reason for her journey, however, which she had revealed only to me, was that she was actually looking for something deeper than the university she would eventually attend.

Despite her breath-taking beauty, she had no interest in having a boyfriend yet. Boys were eating out of the palm of her hand, of course, and she was learning to manipulate their attention. But her main concern was with esoteric studies, spurred by our parent’s interests. Studying the Secret Tradition had been a burning passion for Ruby during the past year. Only people with a very spiritual make-up are interested in exploring the immaterial aspects of life at a time when their peers concern themselves with the will of their hormones and romantic emotions. Only those of us who are called to discover the invisible realms can resonate more readily with the impulses of timelessness and synchronicity. Ruby knew that her journey would reveal the next chapter of her life, and the city where she would choose to live as a university student in the year ahead. She needed to be in the place first, to experience it and let it speak to her. 

She had told me as much in a postcard from Budapest, where she had interrupted her journey and ended up staying for a month. From the moment the train had pulled in at the station, she was sure that the Hungarian capital was the right place for her. It didn’t matter that she didn’t speak the local language and that she knew nobody there. That was the place where she was going to live and study. The signs were everywhere. For instance, she had found a room to rent in a building on Rózsa utca, the Street of the Rose, which she interpreted as a clear Rosicrucian reference. The Secret Tradition that she belonged to on the inside was approaching her on the outside at last. Or so she believed.

“I am an alchemist, Kassie, just like mum and dad, and I follow the map of my heart. It feels like I’ve been looking for people like me for as far as I can remember. I know you were one of us from the moment I met you. But there are many more, and we must find them and rally them together. What our mother and father do with the Godhead Society is a bit old-fashioned. We, the younger generation, must create a Magic Movement”.

“Who are we supposed to find? Have you found any of these potential adepts in Hungary?”

“My path seems to be stretching in that direction. And yours must have taken you here to Scotland for a reason too. I haven’t met these people so far. But I am sure that important lessons are awaiting me in Budapest. The city will be my learning ground. And, since we are synchronized, Kassie, I bet Edinburgh has more in store for you than the teachings of these nuns at St. Arnold’s!”

The sound of the school bell erupted through the remnants of a summer sky. Ruby winked at me, pulled my arm to signal it was time to go back to the hall and put her index finger on her lips. I nodded and slung my schoolbag across my shoulders. The roll was about to be called and we had to rush back to the entrance. It wouldn’t be a good move to be late on my first day.

Gordon, January 1991

“There, Gwen, I can see him., standing by the cigarette machine. He’s talking to Rufus. And now what? I’ll go over and my bro will say hey, this is my sis, nice to meet you, she’s lived in Scotland for a number of years, is now doing her finals at uni, studies medieval history, fond of horse riding and hocus pocus, and this is her roommate, at art college, from Wales, they were at St. Arnold’s together, blah blah blah.”

Harry’s Bar was buzzing that Friday evening, pretty much like any other night. No surprise, since it had been awarded ‘best venue’ at the end of 1990. By the start of 1991, the place had become the favored drinking joint of a crowd of footballers, rugby players and an array of local celebrities and wealthy businessmen. It was also every pretty girl’s chosen platform to showcase her assets. For ambitious women, it was the ideal hunting ground for bagging themselves a boyfriend who was likely famous, or rich, or both.

Kassandra, who was 23 then, was on a mission that night, and she looked stellar in her little black dress, kitten heels and flowing silky locks. She had fallen in love with Gordon Steward, the most sought after bachelor in town, and tonight her brother was going to introduce her to him. She had to accentuate her beauty for the occasion, because every single girl in the bar looked like a perfect clothes horse with big boobs, all long legs and wavy long hair. Unusually for her, Kassie was now feeling small, vulnerable, and very aware of it all of a sudden. Her blood was doing a jittery dance in her veins. She was nervous, and that was unusual too. After all, she was one of the most popular girls at Edinburgh University, and not a stranger to the art of breaking young men’s hearts. Why would this golfing champion have to be any different from her previous conquests? Why did she feel so overwhelmed by the idea of meeting him?

“Kassie, relax, you can’t speak to him while you’re as hyper as this. He’ll think you’re high or something. That would put a sportsman off immediately. You’re speaking at the speed of sound and it’s not attractive at all. Slow down, breathe. Tell me, what do you think of him in person? Do you still fancy him?”

How could she not? He was chocolate-box handsome. Kassandra had seen Gordon on television a few weeks earlier, shortly before the Christmas holidays. Her intention had been to stay single throughout her final year, and concentrate on her studies. But when those big, deep blue eyes had come on the screen, she had felt Gordon’s stare cut into her chest, probing for her soul’s attention. Bang! Taken! At once. How weird. She had fallen in love with his eyes. She sensed the dark story that his soul was reaching out to tell her, like rays through the pixels forming the image of his face, projected by the camera to the center of her heart, where Gordon was pitching his tent.

Christmas had provided her with a little bit more free time away from the books and her thesis on the Scottish Knights Templar, and with the opportunity to hone her plans to seduce the famous golfer. She was sure that the Universe would assist her in her new romantic enterprise. So she hadn’t been too surprised when Rufus, during their family Christmas dinner, had mentioned that Gordon was ‘his mate’. Best festive season present ever! She had lied and said she didn’t know who this athlete was. Golf had never been one of her top interests after all. Polo perhaps, through the Hughes’ influence, and football for sure. She was Italian after all. But golf was an old man’s activity in her books. Rufus had insisted that it wasn’t so, it was quite sexy. He had taken up golfing at the same exclusive club where Gordon’s marvelous practice was a regular feature. With mates in common at St. Andrew’s University where both young men were studying, they had become friends.

By the end of the Christmas dinner, and before the family Kimble, Kassie had already been informed that Gordon was one year her senior at 24, not particularly interested in his engineering studies and a bit of a lad and a playboy. Soon he would be spending time in Edinburgh where he intended to buy property at the foot of Arthur’s Seat, the main peak in Holyrood Park. Rufus wanted her beautiful sister to meet his new drinking buddy. Gordon had expressed his interest in her exotic looks and sophisticated upbringing from the moment he saw her photograph in Rufus’s apartment. Once again, Kassandra was getting what she wanted without even lifting a finger.

And now Gordon was standing in front of her in Harry’s Bar.

“He’s the perfect specimen, Gwen, isn’t he? He must be used to catwalk models and actresses for what I know. Not to pint-sized enchantresses like myself.”

“Kassie, you’ve just said it yourself, you charm men and I’m yet to meet one who can resist you. I share a flat with you after all, and the number of notches on your bedpost is quite remarkable for someone who’s supposedly not dating this year. And you’re not a midget, you’re petite and quite stunning. No point in throwing this cold feet party right now. Come on, move, chop chop! Your brother is waving at us!”.

The two young men approached the girls and Rufus took care of the introductions. No sign of Kassandra’s supposed insecurity was detected as she made a beeline for the Scotsman’s heart. By the end of the night, she and Gordon left Harry’s Bar in the same taxi, headed for a club at his hotel. It wasn’t just a case of young hormones and physical attraction though. The two had discovered that they had something in common: a connection with Kassandra’s academic obsession, the Knights of the Temple of Solomon.

That week, it turned out, Gordon was in town to finalize the purchase of an area on the Dalkeith Road. Plans were being made to have his penthouse built there, over the year ahead. When he mentioned the location, Kassie’s eyes had almost popped out of her head.

“That place”, she informed him, “had once housed the Residence of the Knights Templar. Nearby, once stood a chapel erected on a hillock known as the Mount Hooly, which belonged to the Templars. That was their holy ground, the very heart of their secret rendezvous and exchange of esoteric knowledge. Can I visit the building site before the bulk of the works start? Please?”

Gordon enjoyed seeing the excitement in those long-lashed green eyes, and was already thinking of what he could do with Rufus’s sister once the visit to the Dalkeith Road building site was over. In the bar, she had seemed very cold towards him, and a bit too full of herself for his liking. Up until that lucky point in their conversation when he had mentioned the address where his new house was going to be. He thought he would impress her with the details of the plan, which involved a top-of-the range penthouse equipped with a few hot tubs and an indoor swimming pool. Dalkeith Road was also the ideal location to go for walks on Arthur’s Seat with Moses, his Irish setter, and a ball, a tee and a club. Now he could also place the lovely young daughter of Lord and Lady Hughes in the picture. Although the way in which she got in there was not quite what he had planned.

Never mind. He would take her to “feel the energy of the Templars”, as she had requested. A weird girl, for sure. Nobility was always eccentric anyway. And Rufus had also warned him that nobody could stand in the way of her studies. She wanted to be an academic. He wasn’t used to women like her. They normally melted in his stare. Showbiz starlets, models and the odd easy girl had been his staple sexual diet, by the dozen every month. Now Kassandra was here to challenge his habits. He could picture her naked, with her small breasts, firm tummy, lovely round bottom, skin like velvet and the color of dark honey. She smelled pure and expensive. While they were sitting close to each other in the taxi, he had to struggle not to bury his face in her hair and kiss her neck.  

She kept talking of these mysterious Order that had been put on trial in Edinburgh in 1309. They held secret knowledge and were in possession of holy relics from the Crusades. Gordon had only the faintest notion of these Knights before that night. Now they had become his ticket to the heart and bed of one of the most coveted young women in Scotland. Should he consider having a girlfriend? Especially one who seemed to be more interested in her books and legends than his muscular body and rising fame? He always loved a challenge. He was born to be a winner. The harder a time she would be giving him, the more he would pursue her. And the ‘holier than thou’ she would make herself out to be, the more pleasure he would get once he could enter her doggy style and make her scream his name.

When they reached the Carlton Hotel, snowflakes started to dance in the air. A good sign, Kassie thought. Gordon didn’t even notice. 

Star Dream, 10 December 1992

Love was not going to sweep me away like a waterfall until the twenty-sixth springtime of my life. Right then, it was still the winter before such a wondrous time. I was twenty-four and didn’t yet have an idea of the size of the feeling that would hit me a few months later. I can zoom into that day very easily: another gray morning was about to break and the seven hills of Edinburgh were shrouded in cold mist. In one of the Georgian houses in the New Town, I was fast asleep in my blue bedroom. 

I had painted the entire room, floor to ceiling, that color a few months earlier, during a bout of misplacement activity whilst studying for my Masters Degree. Blue would help my mind focus on the books, I thought. So I had varnished the floor boards “the color of the Ionic sea”, as I informed Gwen, who at the time was one of my two roommates.

“I’ll have the walls in a hue akin to the Italian sky at the offset of spring, when the air is a-blaze with the love-spell of blossoms.”

I had a penchant for metaphors at that age, especially when I was talking to myself or I was day-dreaming. I guess it was my Venusian blood talking. I knew that many of my friends couldn’t stand my ‘poetic descriptions’. They thought that I used them to come across as different. But Gwen didn’t share their point of view, so I could let my fondness of enchanting descriptions emerge in our conversations. My Welsh friend was an artist who understood that imaging is the staple of life, and words are symbols made to encapsulate stories, convey moods and capture dreams. In years to come, she would become a prominent member of the Transformation Movement, the worldwide association for the evolution of humankind which I would found in 1997. Of course, we both didn’t know any of that, way back in our student years. 

At that point in time, I was fast asleep and still unclear as to my specific role in the Arkadian Plan. The curtains were pulled. In my dreams, my kaleidoscopic thoughts were immersed in the world of my imagination. It was 5:40 a.m. and my mind was lulled by a vision: I lived on a star I was at one with. With no boundaries, I floated and whirled in a fairy-tale landscape of a pinkish radiance. The environment looked beautiful and liquid. Objects and people were outlined in vivid colors interwoven with harmonious sounds and a palette of delicate, happy feelings. It was a familiar place. An invisible melodic drone underlined this magical climate. My heart, eyes and ears were processing this dream-world in complete synchrony, producing a mono-feeling of bliss that I hoped would last forever and I could remember upon awakening.  

In my dream, I was floating down the stream of notes, sounds and pulsations which felt like an echo through my body. My hands were resting on my  tummy, sensing the pulsation of musical beats running through my veins. It was pleasant and arousing. I wasn’t alone in my vision. A strong sexual presence followed me: male energy with a powerful sensation of longing. The whole being of this man was pining for me. His breath drew me to the center of his heart where there was a waterfall of emotions. I couldn’t quite see him, yet I felt complete in his company.

I stirred in my sleep. My arm stretched out to look for Gordon. He wasn’t in my bed that morning. So I let my fingers slip inside my knickers instead. My body was then filled by a stream of gentle Light-beats. It felt like a musical instrument. The intensity of the starry drone grew as my limbs turned to velvet and sounded like an orchestra. Somewhere in my chest, there was a loud hammering. My heart was the bass drum. The sound became more thunderous and sharper, filling the space between my cells with the distinct tinkle of triangles, cymbals and bell - the loudest bells in the Universe. My fingers kept busy. Climax was approaching. Whirlpools of metallic reverberations traveled up to my head and into my ears in waves of sparkling chimes, on and on like a fountain, like a waterfall upside down.  

Just a fraction of a second from pleasure, the alarm went off on my bedside table, in loud metallic shrieks. My hand abandoned the warmth of my thighs to silence the clock - 6 AM. My awareness returned to my youthful body. I became the university student again, on automatic pilot. With my eyes half-closed and star-fragments still scattered in my mind, I got out of bed and dragged myself to sit by the window. Not a sound came from the crescent below.  

“What a dream,” I thought. Its meaning was beyond words. I remembered flashes of sensations, sounds and emotions. Breathing deeply to make myself awake, I parted the muslin curtains to see the outside world. It was snowing. The coldness of the weather moved through my limbs, bringing me back to this new day. Lampposts were lit. Their dim light pierced through the blackness preceding the dawn and across the whiteness of the ground. I sat on the floor resting my back on the radiator. The heat was the first material gift of the day. But it could not be compared to the marvels that had filled my senses just a few minutes before. I smiled from the heart. There was something familiar about that dream: the intimacy of eternity.  

While I was lighting a stick of incense, I caught a glimpse of my face in the mirror above the fireplace. Despite my bed hair and the dark circles around my eyes, I could see why men found me irresistible. Although my relationship with Gordon had also taught me to feel confident in my womanly charms, that morning I noticed something new in my features and expression. A fresh injection of Life Force had been instilled in me. This is the power that comes from the center of the Universe.

“Thank you, Life,” I said. High time was approaching to fulfill my role in the Plan, and express my True Identity. Perhaps what I was supposed to do would soon become clear. 

My actions were as measured and poised as usual. Just like any other day, I stopped in the kitchen for a glass of hot water with lemon. I thought my roommates would be asleep for another couple of hours. It wasn’t so. I was surprised by a hushed rustling coming from the kitchen. Sam was already up, making scrambled eggs on toast for his breakfast. The caffettiera on the stove was whistling its aromatic tune. He had exams that morning, and he was very nervous.  

His eyes lowered when he saw me. I kissed him on the cheek and ruffled his blond curls. His mind seemed miles away. I loved Sam like a brother. Although he hated my boyfriend. From the moment Gordon had entered my life almost two years before, bringing the rough throes of his material world into my flawless, ethereal precinct, Sam had always ventilated his disapproval. As a professional golfer, Gordon was a practical, physical man, and my antithesis by all means. But I was an easy prey to his chiseled looks and boyish charms because, for all my depth, I was equally vain then. I was only 23 when we had met, and much of the wisdom that I was to gain in my adult years was only hinted at then, and still lacked the depth of experience.  

Sam’s eyes were sunken and grave that morning. Did he also guess that time had come for me to embrace my role, and that I would soon leave Piper’s Crescent?

“Morning, Kassandra”, he said.

He looked very, very tired.

“Have you been up all night, Sammy boy?”

I placed my hand on his chest: his heart was racing, as I expected. He nodded and blushed, always puzzled at how easily I could touch others without announcing it. Then my energy made him feel calm.

“You’re a genius anyway, put those books down!”

I laughed as I left the kitchen, closing the door behind me. The house was silent apart from my footsteps on the cracking floorboards of the long, cluttered corridor. I tread carefully as I walked past Sam’s bedroom and three stacked-up bicycles. Stepping over boxes, coats and hats, I passed by Gwen’s tiny box-room, which was adjacent to my own. Ours was a typical student house. It still amuses me to remember the contrast between the order in my room and the chaos outside it. I opened the door to my “magic bedroom.” The sweet scent of incense welcomed me in, soothing my senses and making me feel at home again. I couldn’t bear messy environments or chaotic emotions for too long: they upset my eyes and heart respectively. I needed clarity and space all around me. I was a Venusian after all, although at that stage I didn’t fully know it.  

My room was wide and airy, a Georgian sanctuary to my strong aesthetic sense. My bed was by the window, opposite the fireplace. The large McIntosh mirror made the room appear even bigger. A crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling. Its light danced on the floor in waves that made it look like water. Shelves were stacked with books on the Templars, the Godhead Society and other esoteric traditions. I had carved out a sitting room area next to the fireplace. It consisted of a settee covered by a golden Damascus throw, and a coffee table made of ivory and wooden plugs. This room was my pride and joy, my temple. My friends thought that only a control freak could live and thrive in such a geometrically perfect, impossibly tidy environment. They couldn’t guess that my love for symmetry and order was spurn by my stellar DNA, and neither could I, way back then.

The yoga mat was rolled out on the floor. I lit the gas fire, slipped out of my pajama and put on my leggings and a vest. I clang my Tibetan bells three times and proceeded to salute the Sun with a flow of graceful movements; they were like second nature to me. I loved this moment in my day. It seemed as if time stood still and offered space to potentiality. I called it contemplation through action. After my yoga session, I meditated for ten minutes and then did some journaling back in bed.  

By 7 a.m. I needed my breakfast so I went back to the kitchen. Sam was taking a shower. He had left some hot coffee in the percolator. I poured myself a cup and put a slice of rye bread in the toaster. Just as the toast popped up, Gwen walked in. We sat at the table and talked about the dreams we had the night before, as we often would. I had studied psychology as part of my undergraduate degree and developed an interest for dream analysis. My roommate illustrated her dream of the previous night, which was about a river of music and light. To her surprise, I told her I had had a similar nocturnal experience.

Brad, a black model from Chicago who was Gwen’s new lover, surfaced from her room while my friend and I were reminiscing over the feelings associated with our dream. Everyone was up unusually early that day. It transpired that we’d all dreamed what seemed to be the same imagery. We all roamed sound-filled, starry climes. While I had been woken up by my alarm, the other two had been jolted out of their slumber by a vivid semi-orgasmic sensation in their limbs that they had never experienced before. It had nothing to do with their intimate rendezvous, they swore. It seemed that we each had our own special take of the experience, and we all described it from the perspective of our own consciousness. There was no doubt whatsoever that we had landed in the same “place” during our sleep. That freaked them out. Gwen’s star might have been more colorful. Mine seemed more magical. Brad’s was more physical. But it was the same star nonetheless.

The coincidence of three people catching the same imagery and sensations during sleep, on the same night, was beyond statistics. I loved coincidences. The others didn’t. Gwen thought that she and Brad had smoked too much hash the night before. Or perhaps our house was receiving dangerous radiations from some secret technical equipment. Brad did not really say much but kept staring at me, which I didn’t mind as he was quite easy on the eye. 

Unlike them, I knew that Star like the back of my hand. It was my original home. Sometimes I could even reach it through the power of my intention. And now the energy of my Native Star was making itself felt on Earth, on Piper’s Crescent, through me. I was the bridge between here and there. It was fantastic news. I couldn’t wait to speak to Dr. Boyd at the School of Parapsychological Studies now. She might help me figure out the full meaning of the event. This wasn’t the first instance of some metaphysical oddity in the house. After all, Piper’s Crescent, where we lived, lay on a very prominent ley-line, one of the Earth’s power-spots. Did my experience meant that the Arkadian Plan I had learned about when I was a child was becoming manifest? If so, Dr. Boyd would be ecstatic. What about Lord and Lady Hughes? And Maria-Carmen and Lydia at the Godhead Society? I couldn’t wait to let them know what had happened.  

For all my enthusiasm, there was definitely someone I wouldn’t want to inform of this remarkable occurrence: Gordon. I knew he wouldn’t be interested in the slightest. He would find it funny, if not ridiculous. A veil of sadness descended on the crimson of my cheeks. I shook it off. My boyfriend was my ‘aspect out of balance’, and the fact was daunting. He was no real mirror to my heart. I still hoped that, over time, things might change, and he might too.

That was no time for sentimentality though: I had to get going. The Arkadian Plan was definitely unfolding although I had not yet remembered the details of it.

“They will become clear as they are happening”, I reassured myself. “No need to have too much knowledge in advance. The sheer beauty of experiencing my True Identity in last night’s dream will more than do for now”.

The snow was still falling when I stepped out. Edinburgh was as pretty as a Christmas postcard. The day was alive with the promise of wonders ahead. My holy heart was singing because I had found the Key connecting me to my Birth Star, the Key that was going to kick-start my transformation, the frequency that could change those around me too.

[continue to Chapter Three: HEARTBREAK]