The Cosmic Logos
It was a little tricky working her career in around a new baby, but her daughter was such a contented infant that somehow the writer kept managing to churn out a book a year.
The writer had become friendly with a clairvoyant, from whom she would request a reading every six months or so.
The clairvoyant reminded her of one of the wise, all-seeing druids from her tales. He had the ability to reach into the back of the writer’s mind and pull out the ideas and lessons, past and future, that were valuable for her to note or pour energy into, and the oracle was rarely wrong with his predictions.
At this reading her clairvoyant’s advice was proving particularly unwelcome, as it was threatening to throw her life into chaos.
‘There are another three Tory Alexander books coming,’ the oracle told her outright, as if the writer had no choice in the matter.
‘Don’t say that,’ begged the writer. ‘After three epic novels surely —’
‘There’s another three books,’ he repeated. ‘Just sit down and write the synopses and you’ll see that I’m right,’ he challenged.
‘But I’m contracted to write another novel, and I’ve already begun.’ The writer changed tack to protest again.
The oracle shook his head. ‘It doesn’t matter. By the time you write the synopses, your publishers will be asking you for another Tory trilogy.’
The writer didn’t want to consider such a huge commitment. Having written a trilogy already she knew the hard yards that were involved, and this time she had a baby to consider. Still, this man’s soothsaying was always precise, and he hadn’t been so adamant about a prediction since he’d foreseen the writer falling pregnant — only three weeks before the fact. The writer had been equally adamant that now was not the right time to be having a family, with her career just taking off, and she had told her clairvoyant that his guides must have their lines crossed. Of course, the oracle had been right, and now the writer took more notice when he was resolute. ‘How can you be so sure about the second trilogy?’
The oracle took a deep breath and went silent before answering her query, as he often did to listen to the advice of the spirits who came forth with messages for his clients. ‘Tory Alexander is real,’ he said at last, and winced. ‘I don’t exactly know what they mean by that.’ He fell quiet to listen to the spirits once more. ‘You are …’ he began and then hesitated, his frown deepening as he strained to make sense of the message. ‘Tory is a part of your soul-mind living in another inter-dimensional reality.’
At this stage, the writer tried not to mock. ‘Now you’re sounding like my readers … most of them feel that this particular story is real somehow.’
‘That’s how!’ The oracle pressed his view and that of the spirit advising him. ‘Tory is your muse whenever you write about her.’
The writer couldn’t deny that Tory’s attitude did overshadow her when writing her tales and the writer did like being influenced by Tory’s strength, courage, conviction and knowledge.
When the writer had been working on the stand-alone novel, she’d been pregnant and had not really felt her normal self, nor had she felt Tory’s warrior influence. Their beautiful cat, Arthur McCloud, had unexpectedly died just before she’d commenced her latest novel, and the writer couldn’t help but feel that Arthur had been the muse behind her recently published work in which he’d featured as a character.
‘Tory and co still have much they can teach you.’ The oracle encouraged the writer not to reject the idea because of the enormity of it. ‘It’s very important that you do this.’
‘Important to who?’ The writer wanted to know. ‘Me?’
‘It’s important to the evolution of consciousness in this dimension,’ he stated in all seriousness and the writer gave a laugh.
‘I’m not a spiritual guru,’ she argued in typical Tory fashion.
‘No, you’re not,’ the oracle granted, ‘you’re just an open channel. Every individual is, to differing degrees, and if you don’t write this second trilogy, your muse will move on to the next open channel to achieve her aims.’
The writer didn’t like that idea, not when the first trilogy had been so popular with readers and she had learned so much from the adventure.
‘Listen.’ The oracle sought to alleviate her apprehension. ‘Everything about these books, from the content to the colours and designs on the jackets, has been carefully conceived of by the cosmos to stir things in the deeper consciousness of your readers … feelings, inspiration, ideas, memories. That is why your readers feel the stories are real, as you are not the only one with memories of other dimensions. Some of your readers have no doubt been involved in the different events of the inter-dimensional reality Tory has been channelling through to you, and when they read your tales they remember their involvement.’
‘Well!’ The writer was dumbstruck. ‘That’s some theory you’ve got there.’ Her eyebrows raised as she considered it further and then melted into a smile. ‘Could make one hell of a story.’
18
INCOMPLETE
The intense light and heat of the blast dissipated, leaving Tory and Maelgwn facing one another in the ethereal foyer of the outer court of Shamballa.
‘That wasn’t so bad now, was it?’ The Dragon smiled as he observed their sparkling etheric forms and how liberating it felt to have shed his physical world body for good.
‘We are still separate entities?’ Tory was surprised and a little disappointed.
‘Your soul-mind still has tasks it wishes to perform before it unites and departs this world to do other work.’
Tory didn’t have to look to know that it was the Count who had spoken, nor to know that DK was present with him, for the individual energies each master exuded were very distinctive. ‘I’d almost forgotten about our musing duties.’ Tory was reluctant to return to her charge, as she’d been led to believe that the shedding of physical world form represented an initiation passed, opening the second door that led to the middle court of Shamballa. When Tory did turn her attention to the masters, DK was grinning, for he knew what his charge was thinking.
‘Look up,’ he advised, pointing in that direction.
The ceiling above appeared as a wall of fire, not unlike that which Tory and Maelgwn had both passed through in order to enter the outer court of Shamballa. The fiery surface was gradually bearing down on them and Tory and Maelgwn waited to be consumed with delighted anticipation.
Your striving, self-mastery, endurance, patience and sacrifice for the cause of Good, Beauty and Truth have brought you here. The voice of the Master Kuthumi filled the minds of the initiates. Greet the fiery angel that guards the central city of Shamballa and enter the Door of Will.
The gentle cleansing fire washed over Tory and Maelgwn and was accompanied by an electrical phenomenon that surged over and through their etheric bodies.
The lightning destroys age-long accumulations of darkness, the last bond of the self to matter. Its gift is enlightenment, the birth of the soul, the ability to see and contact the greater soul in every man. All your chakras now resonate to their proper colour and vibration, forming a vessel for the blessings of the Sanat Kumara.
More liberating than the shedding of the physical body was the purification of the soul. As the fire passed down over their forms and dissipated into the celestial floor, Tory and Maelgwn had shed their ethereal forms and now occupied glowing astral forms which had a slight ultraviolet hue. The couple became aware of other beings around them. The foyer of the outer court was still present and its architecture had not changed at all, only now it was filled with other etheric spirits all calmly moving about on their own business.
‘Welcome to the central jewelled city of the Isle of White,’ Kuthumi greeted the couple, as he now stood alongside the Count and DK.
‘Pleased we could make it,’ Maelgwn mumbled, straining to concentrate on the masters, as alien beings passing by threatened to divert his attention with their unique features.
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sp; ‘I’ve been here before.’ Tory recognised some of the extra-terrestrial beings. ‘This is where Raziel brought Electra’s consciousness to witness the meeting of the Black League.’ All three masters gave a nod to confirm her hunch. When Tory spotted a being with dragon-like features she was confused. ‘He’s an Orion.’
‘Yes, that’s right,’ DK granted.
‘But are they not the force behind the Dark Lodge?’ Tory wondered what such a being was doing here, where no dark intent could infiltrate.
‘You were once a force behind the Dark Lodge,’ DK reminded her. ‘The Orions are gradually learning how to tread the path of light, as are we all. The Orions were also the force behind the Aryan race and you wouldn’t say all Aryans were evil, would you?’
Considering that Aryan blood had once run in her veins, she had to agree with the master, although the information was rather perplexing.
‘Just because a body might appear Aryan, that doesn’t necessarily mean that the soul-mind is the same as the consciousness that spawned the race. Not all the white Atlanteans were of Pleiadean consciousness, now were they?’ he remarked. ‘That is why you can never judge a man based on his racial background, for there will always be exceptions to the rule. Human consciousness is a melting pot for all the physical world intelligence that is on the road back to the Creator.’
‘And what of Yahweh Aris?’ Tory wondered, in light of the fact that the Electra incident had occurred nearly twelve thousand years before. ‘Has that soul-mind made it to Shamballa?’
‘Not yet,’ DK answered, although all the masters were very excited by the question. ‘His service in the Dark Lodge of the Materialistic has been extensive and very beneficial to the plan.’
‘Far more than even he realises,’ the Count added. ‘He has served to keep all extra-terrestrial operations on this planet a secret, by distorting the facts of UFO sightings, using charlatans and extremists. Anyone who has found hard evidence of extra-terrestrial existence, his Dark Lodge has gone to great lengths to intimidate and silence.’
‘Yahweh Aris heads the Men in Black,’ Tory concluded, looking to Maelgwn to catch his reaction, although he was not really paying attention.
A group of male spirits, four in number, approached Maelgwn and greeted him warmly.
‘Dragon,’ exclaimed the beautiful spirit in the lead, who rather resembled their son, Rhun. ‘How splendid that you are through your trial and are now fully dedicated to the subjective. We have relayed our objective to our charges, who are readying themselves for their return to Atlantis.’
When Tory noted that each spirit resembled one of her sons she guessed the group to be the Oversouls Maelgwn had been working with, just as she had been working with Astarleia.
‘I should go.’ Maelgwn turned back to Tory to bid her farewell with a smile.
‘I’ll be reading about you all,’ Tory directed the comment to the group of guides representing the men closest to her during her life, ‘and I know you’ll make me proud, as always.’
‘We had a fine teacher,’ granted Rhun’s Oversoul, whereupon he and the spirits in his company bowed to Tory and Maelgwn before they led her husband away. Five paces across the foyer, they all vanished.
When Tory turned back to the masters, DK stood alone; the Masters Kuthumi and the Count had both departed.
‘You are wondering what effect your sons’ quest to save Mahaud from coming into being will have on your ascending soul-mind, now that you realise that your time in the darkness was essential to your spiritual perfection?’
‘Yes.’ Tory was amused by how accurately DK described her thoughts when she hadn’t even formulated her query.
‘I told you before: it doesn’t matter in what inter-dimensional reality you play out your karma to the Logos, no venture is ever lost in the great scheme of things.’ He smiled broadly and, motioning ahead, he invited her to walk with him for a spell. ‘You see, although your sons might save Electra when they return to Atlantis, which will surely affect Gaia’s present reality, your time in darkness has already been played out and so that understanding shall never be lost to you. Still, if your sons can free Electra, that will be one less elemental spirit bound for oblivion.’
‘But what of Maelgwn?’ Tory theorised. ‘Would he not have to have served time in darkness in order to understand it?’
‘The Dragon has served longer and endured darkness and torment longer than any.’ DK sounded most sypathetic.
Tory gasped, feeling that DK was dropping hints. ‘You’re not implying that Maelgwn is Yahweh Aris, are you?’
‘No,’ DK confirmed gently, put on the spot. But he was spared the problem of getting around the topic when they reached the exterior doors and Tory was granted her first glimpse of the paradise beyond.
Tory had seen some Otherworldly gardens in her time, but none could compare to the rare beauty of the trees, flowers, and colours of this place. There were buildings, composed of a glowing astral substance, which had miraculous architecture. These dwellings rose up like walls on either side of a huge expanse of wilderness, with waterfalls, hot and cold springs and walkways that appeared to go on forever. Looking up, Tory was surprised to find beautiful crystal stalagmites hanging from the cavern roof high above. ‘We’re underground?’
DK was nodding and about to comment when Tory noticed a couple of people walk by her who seemed to have a physical body. Their eyes were open and yet the iris had no colour whatsoever. A bright centre of light hung over their third eye area, and as the pair nodded in greeting and recognition of Tory on their way past her, she suspected that they were perceiving her through their third eye area, rather than with their physical eyes. ‘Physical humans can find Shamballa?’
‘Sometimes,’ DK commented. ‘You nearly made it here with your physical body still attached. But the residents you are curious about are the more adept world teachers of the Inner Earth tribes.’
‘Like Neraida and her once underground Middle Eastern clan?’ Tory wondered whether the tribes were related.
‘Neraida’s people were not really classified as an Inner Earth tribe, as they frequented the underground and the surface of Gaia. They found and utilised two old subterranean passageways in the Middle East, abandoned by the Inner Earth people after it was decided that the great underground complex of Giza would be sealed up and reopened when humanity was ready for the secrets contained therein.’
‘So there is a time capsule under the plateau.’ Tory smiled as she considered how excited Noah would be to know this. As she noted how many Inner Earth people seemed to be wandering around the place, her brain spat forth a possible explanation as to where they came from. ‘These are the descendants of the refugees of Atlantis.’
DK was delighted by her guess. ‘But you know that the deluge recorded in your history was only the last phase of the sinking of Atlantis. The continent known to you as Atlantis was originally connected to Lumeria, which began sinking some eight hundred and fifty thousand years before the catastrophe Electra was involved in. As humankind developed, people were continuously drawn towards the dark path of the materialistic —’
‘Which was necessary in order for humanity to understand itself and the physical realm it found itself in. Once understanding advanced, then humankind could develop ideas and take its part in the creation of the physical human environment and evolution,’ Tory reasoned.
‘Indeed,’ DK emphasised. ‘As the bodies of humankind developed, the flame of thought was introduced into their minds.’
‘By the Logos?’
‘By his request,’ the Tibetan master explained. ‘The great Cosmic Lives, or Solar Angels if you prefer, who were overseeing other more advanced civilisations in other regions of the physical universe came to our Logos’s aid. It was the second wave of these divine beings coming to view human development that exposed man to thought.’
‘The Nefilim Logos, Anu?’ Tory took a stab at guessing.
‘Correct,’ DK granted. ‘Anu’s intere
st guided his race here and they further developed the apeman already existing on Gaia, and in fusing Nefilim genes with primitive man, the capacity for thought was planted. But it was the third wave of Solar Angels who finally entered the etheric sphere of the human being. Many humans existing at this time could not hold the charge of power generated by these beings and their brains were burned away. But for those who did hold the charge, a great awakening began.’
‘Enki’s fourteen perfect humans.’ Tory felt a great awakening begin to stir in her being now. ‘And the Solar Angels who sparked this great awareness were from Sirius, the Pleiades and the Orion systems. Their commitment to human consciousness guided the extraterrestrials to our solar system, where they could watch over their investment and guide it,’ Tory reasoned. ‘And the other human tribes who were developed on Gaia and then redistributed throughout the galaxy by the Nefilim, have benefited from these cosmic spiritual outpourings too.’
‘Every planetary spirit in the universe is a Logos in the making, and each spirit has a centre like Shamballa that feeds cosmic energy through it and to the occupants of the planet they nurture, on every level of awareness … everything is interconnected.’ DK could not stress this strongly enough. ‘Still, Gaia is the mother planet of human consciousness and thus will always remain the focus of the struggle for the perfection of the species. As mankind developed, the more spiritually adept humans of each era were directed to the Inner Earth cities which had been constructed by the extra-terrestrial races involving themselves in human evolution.’
‘But how is it that the Nefilim were never aware of the presence of the alien invaders?’ Tory wondered.
‘You forget that the Nefilim were not always a permanent fixture on this planet. There were tens of thousands of years between some of their visits. Every time a deluge occurred on Gaia, the Nefilim would pack up and head elsewhere and that’s when other extra-terrestrials made themselves at home in the Inner Earth.’