The Cosmic Logos

  ‘But I suggest that rather than trying to consider me as two different souls you once knew, just consider me as DK, whom you now know … if that is pleasing to you?’

  ‘That is pleasing to me,’ she agreed, knowing that they would bump along together very well, just as they always had. ‘So, you requested me as a student, DK?’

  They began to walk into the cave, which was lit by the light exuding from her own form and even more so by the illumination DK’s enlightened being was emitting.

  ‘You are a hard worker and of great joy to the many entities that have had a hand in inspiring you,’ he explained, taking her arm and wrapping it around his own. ‘And, therefore, it is to my very great honour that you should keep choosing me as a tutor.’

  His comeback made Tory laugh. ‘So it’s my fault you keep getting stuck with me, is that what you’re saying?’

  ‘To be sure,’ he agreed, kindly. ‘And I wouldn’t have it any other way. However,’ DK patted her arm to end their banter, ‘back to more important matters.’

  The cave ahead widened into a large cavern and the master motioned her to a spectacular pool of crystal that was forming in the middle of the great cavity. A glowing liquid substance, white in colour, oozed through the ceiling and slid down three uneven stalagmites that hung over the large round pool. Each stalagmite changed the colour of the glowing liquid before it dripped into the pool where three great mounds of crystal had formed; one was yellow, one blue and one red. At each pinnacle the colour was very defined, but in the pool the crystals had merged to create the full spectrum of the rainbow in glowing rock.

  ‘This is without doubt the most beautiful piece of sculpture I have ever seen,’ Tory uttered, as she rounded it.

  ‘Sculpture, you say?’ DK was impressed by her perception.

  ‘I’m guessing that it is a work of art and not a natural formation?’

  The master shrugged. ‘It is, in fact, a bit of both. Can you tell me what it depicts?’

  ‘To me … it depicts the Solar Hierarchy.’ Tory voiced her opinion and DK made no indication as to whether he agreed or not, which was very indicative of Taliesin.

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Well …’ Tory looked to the ceiling first. ‘The source of this creation, the white glowing water, represents the Solar Logos, the source of all life. From the Logos shot forth the three Major Rays.’ She pointed to the three stalagmites that transmuted the colour of the glowing water. ‘These constitute the original sacred trinity. Red represents the destructive force of Master El Morya’s Ray of Will-Power. Blue represents the healing power of Master Kuthumi’s Ray of Love-Wisdom and the Yellow represents the Ray of Active Intelligence, the presiding master of which is …’ Tory squinted as she racked her brain. ‘Ah yes,’ she clicked her fingers as she recalled. ‘The Master Rakoczi, of course. As the Head of this Ray the Master R is also the Mahachohan and The Lord of Civilisation. The three Major Rays extend down into the causal world,’ she motioned to the three mounds of crystal, ‘and merge with the four Minor Rays of Aspect to produce the Seven Rays of Life that create the physical realm.’ Tory pointed to the sections of crystal beyond the mounds where patches of purple, indigo, orange and green stone had formed.

  ‘Did I mention that you are a fast learner?’ The Tibetan appeared very pleased by her analogy. ‘But this is no ordinary piece of sculpture. Being composed of etheric substance it is designed to help you make contact with the subject you are to muse.’

  ‘Whoa, really?’ Tory looked deeper into the glowing rocks.

  DK suppressed his urge to laugh. ‘Your physical eyes will be useless to you, you must see via your third eye.’ He pointed to the middle of his brow. ‘Come, sit, and I will guide you inwards.’

  Once Tory sat and focused, with eyes closed, her etheric sight blazed into action and she was able to perceive the beautiful crystal sculpture before her with third eye vision.

  Now the glowing water appeared positively ultra-luminous. Millions of atoms spinning at high speed composed the different forms inside the cavern — her own form included. Everything was drawing in light energy and emitting its own brightly coloured aura, the energy of which radiated out to touch everything else. Energy was radiating between herself and the Master DK, between herself and the pool, herself and the ground on which she sat. In this sacred place, all these energies were very positive and pleasing. It wasn’t hard for Tory to see how a lot of bad energy got passed around in crowded cities, with so many people crammed in together and no nature to counteract the negativity.

  Now look into the sculpture and ask the Logos to make its will known.

  Tory heard the Master DK’s voice in her mind and as per his instruction, she looked deep into the crystal to glimpse her new destiny. A vision erupted and consumed her consciousness and before she’d had the chance to realise what had happened, reality came to a standstill and Tory found herself floating over a large body of water amid a snow-covered highland countryside.

  She looked down to view herself but it seemed only her consciousness was taking this trip. Where am I?

  You’re at the western end of Loch Ness, DK advised.

  Tory looked around for the master.

  I’m addressing your physical body, Tory, which is still seated beside me in the cave. DK put an end to her turning about. I can see what you perceive. We can affect this place, but are not actually here … our will extends into our conscious perception, do you see?

  I understand. Tory began taking in the spectacular scenery. As it looked to be the middle of winter she was rather glad not to actually be present.

  Do you see that car yonder?

  There was only one car on the road that ran along the northern bank of the Loch. The little white car was heading west and judging from the make and style of the vehicle the year was somewhere in the late nineteen eighties or early nineteen nineties.

  I see it, Tory confirmed.

  Your subject is in the passenger seat, informed DK. Let us catch up and take a look.

  With very little effort Tory willed her perception forth to the back seat of the car — never mind that it was full of luggage, she took up no space at all. She observed the young woman who she was to muse and saw a lot of herself in her subject.

  She was in her mid-twenties, with shoulder length blonde hair, and although the colour didn’t look natural, it suited her well. Obviously she was of smaller build than Tory, but it was hard to discern much about her subject’s body, rugged up in clothes as it was and seated in a car. The writer looked a little under the weather as did her travelling companion, a dark-haired woman of roughly the same age and build as her subject.

  So who is the driver? Tory quizzed DK.

  She is your subject’s best friend, he replied. She will be editing your work, so you might want to do a little musing there as well.

  And how do I muse, exactly? Tory hadn’t a clue where to start with this project.

  Initially, a muse wishes to inspire, give their subject something to think about, something that will steer the subject towards the area of investigation that you wish her to pursue.

  Tory had to think about this a second, as she could hardly send her subject on a trip back to the Dark Ages. Then she recalled the passage she’d read about the author in Kuthumi’s library that described the writer being inspired to write The Ancient Future on her journey through Scotland. It wasn’t fairy lights she encountered in her travels, it was me, Tory assumed, and as no response from DK was forthcoming, she asked, I can do fairy lights?

  If your imagination and willpower is up to the challenge, I dare say you could, DK chuckled.

  Tory willed herself beyond the car, which had turned off the Loch road and was heading over the highlands. The clouds were high in the sky but apart from being dark and ominous-looking, there was very little happening on the weather front.

  In her imagination she conjured a mist that descended over the highland road and over the one tiny vehicle travelling along it.
Inside the haze she envisaged countless tiny specks of light all flitting about in different directions, so as not to be mistaken for snow glistening in the headlights. As she witnessed her vision manifest around her, Tory rose up above the enchanted haze to view the extent of it. She wished the occupants of the car to feel all the excitement, sense of purpose and wonder that she felt upon setting out on this partnership.

  I think they’ve probably had enough inspiration for the moment. DK advised her to end the spectacle.

  Tory immediately dispersed the mist filled with lights, and with a second thought, she parted the clouds that had begun to rain in the distance and a huge rainbow stretched itself across the towering highland peaks.

  The car pulled over to the side of the road and both the women climbed out of the car, looking around for the fleeting phenomenon, tears streaming down their faces as they beheld the most stupendous view imaginable.

  From Tory’s diminishing perspective she saw two tiny people and a car on the top of the world.

  The crystal sculpture blurred out her perception of the Scottish Highlands in the late twentieth century and Tory opened her eyes. ‘Now that’s what I call an enchanting first impression. I think I’m going to like working with the subjective world.’

  DK raised his brows to agree. ‘You’ve most certainly got your subject motivated in the right direction … a very good start indeed.’

  PART 2

  SIGNS

  CHARACTER LIST

  PART 2

  Head of Ingram conglomerate

  Hayden

  Hayden Ingram’s heir

  Rainer

  Leonine Impostor

  Horace

  Eli the Elestial

  THE WRITER’S GUIDES

  Oversoul

  Astarleia

  Marriage guide

  Hazel

  Health guide

  Frances

  Detrimental spirit

  Nictar

  The Cat

  Arthur

  The Muse

  Tory

  The Agent’s guide

  Karmalina

  ATLANTIS

  Head Seer of the High Orders

  Electra

  Ruler of Usiqua

  Prometheus

  Prometheus’ son

  Deukalion

  Murdered ruler of Atlantis

  Agamemnon

  Sorcerer

  Aegisthus

  Wife of Agamemnon

  Clytemnestra

  Exiled son of Agamemnon

  Orestes

  Six sisters of Electra and Orestes

  Maia, Taygeta, Alcyone, Asterope, Celaeno, Merope

  Prince of Tangier

  Lugal

  Spirit of Retribution

  Uriel

  Spirit of the Supreme Mysteries

  Raziel

  Viceroy to the Logos

  Mikhail

  Orion Lord of the Dark Lodge

  Yahweh Aris

  Nefilim God Allied to Aegisthus

  Shamash

  Nefilim God Allied to Prometheus

  Enki

  Prologue

  Four years had passed since her trip to the UK and still the writer was no closer to seeing a film in production. She and her colleagues had done everything right: the budget, the breakdown, the proposal, and everyone they’d shown the project to had loved it. Yes, everyone definitely wanted to be involved, but when it came to writing cheques, everyone passed the buck. The distributor would get involved once a director was interested; the director would voice interest once some funding was raised. No big name director, no funding … and round and round it went.

  She hadn’t written anything new in years, having been forced to go back to retail record sales to pay the bills. Working all day, every day, in a shopping mall for someone else’s profit had killed her inspiration. She was fiendishly unhappy, despite a blissful marriage, and her soul was in such torment that she was getting sick all the time. Before her dream had started to slide, she’d been the happiest, most positive of souls and had never known a sick day in her life.

  Her thoughts kept drifting back to her trip to the UK, to the mist filled with lights in the highlands and the amazing energy it had sent surging through her being, causing every muscle in her body to tremble and tears to stream uncontrollably from her eyes. She wished more than anything to recapture that awe inspiring feeling, but her world seemed too mundane now and she didn’t know how to get the magic back, or if indeed it would ever come back. Maybe this was just the way reality was, and dreams didn’t come true no matter how much you believed in yourself. She was losing faith in esoteric beliefs, like creating your own reality and healing the body with the power of the mind, as she seemed no longer able to bring these principles into play. Perhaps this was what growing up was all about … coming to these kinds of realisations?

  ‘Every dark cloud has a silver lining,’ her mother always said. ‘You must believe that what is happening is, for whatever reason, timely for your growth and therefore meant to be.’

  But why would she put herself through this torture? Why, when she’d been so intimately involved in the film industry, had she failed to make her dream a reality? All she wanted to do was write for a living. How could everything have been going so right and then suddenly turn so wrong?

  That magical moment in the highlands of Scotland had somehow marked a change in her destiny. There had been a lot of people who were very excited and keen to be involved in the film project before the trip, which is why she’d spent the money to go to the UK and further the project in the first place. Still, after she’d seen the fairy lights, all the hype around the film project had just dissipated, and the amazing coincidences and great contacts just stopped coming.

  Another of her beliefs was that if things were going wrong in life, it was usually a good sign that you were going the wrong way or about to miss some important signpost. She already knew that she’d wandered off the track somewhere. The trouble was she couldn’t seem to find her way back.

  10

  THE TROUBLE WITH

  MUSING

  A symphony of vibrant pastel colour played upon the glittering celestial walls that formed the miraculous foyer in which Tory stood.

  DK had brought her forth to this dwelling inside the outer court of the sacred city and although the area was huge they were the only occupants. The master had explained it to be a kind of quarantine area where the physical bodies of spiritual initiates could reside in peace, whilst working out any leftover karma they might have via subjective world service. This interlude as a spirit before making the Great Renunciation, gave the soon-to-be adepts some experience in subjective world mastery and protocol.

  The architecture of this ‘quarantine area’ alone was completely unlike anything Tory had seen before, as it was built of thought matter and not physical matter; therefore, the laws of physics did not bind it. The walls curved all over the place. In one semi-circular area, stairs ran up both walls to meet at a platform in the middle, where an archway led to chambers. The unusual thing about the horseshoe shaped stairways was that the stairs had no definable supports — they rested on thin air. The sweet scent of a thousand flowers that always accompanied an Otherworldly mist, was prominent here as were the strong pulsing vibrations of a ley crossing. Uluru in Australia was a major ley crossing as well, but if Uluru marked the navel of the planet, Shamballa was the heart.

  ‘We are in the Otherworld?’ Tory asked, as her surroundings appeared denser than astral substance, but not as solid as physical world matter.

  ‘This outer court of Shamballa resonates to a vibratory rate of the etheric world, yes,’ DK granted.

  The etheric world was the overall picture of cosmic space and acted as a matrix for all the seven planes of expression and their inhabitants. In Sanskrit, the mother goddess was named Matrix, meaning ‘that which gives form’. The etheric world could support all manner of forms: physical, astral, mental, ca
usal and beyond. Kuthumi’s library, like Taliesin’s labyrinth and the Sensor-sphere, were composed of physical matter in etheric space. This was the first mental structure Tory had ever encountered.

  ‘Mental matter is very susceptible to thought forms,’ the master said, explaining the amazing architecture and artworks. ‘Any thought forms!’ he stressed lightheartedly. ‘Which is why it is so important that only the pure of heart enter the sacred city.’

  ‘Have the security measures here ever been breached?’ Tory moved to admire a beautiful etheric sculpture of a robed man.

  ‘They cannot be breached,’ DK told her confidently. ‘To the distorted heart, Shamballa does not exist. It cannot, as it would be beyond such a soul’s capacity to raise their rate of vibration to a level which would allow them to perceive the sacred city, let alone enter it. Furthermore, Shamballa is destructive to all elements of separatism; the threat would destroy itself.’

  ‘He’s so beautiful,’ Tory uttered, having come to a standstill before the statue.

  ‘It’s not surprising that you think so. That is the Lord Maitreya,’ DK enlightened her.

  ‘Christ,’ Tory deduced from what she’d learned.

  DK nodded and pointed out: ‘Not to be confused with the Master Jesus.’

  ‘Yes.’ Tory confirmed her awareness of this. ‘The Count already explained that little conundrum to me. I had spent my whole life convincing myself that the Master Jesus had been more of a hindrance than a help to mankind, but now I know otherwise.’

  DK understood her reasoning. ‘We can hardly blame the Masters for mankind’s misinterpretation of spiritual doctrine. Most men only hear what suits them.’