"Ah! thank you, sweet Mother; this is so good and kind of you to
come to me to-night. I have suffered so all day from your thought;
you have been disappointed in your Sarthia and with reason, too. A
Vestal, who all but faints at the sight of death, is not made of the
stuff required in the Temple Service. But, believe me, dear
Priestess, the trouble is far deeper than appears upon the surface.
The Ritual this morning but furnished the occasion or, rather,
hastened some crisis that was already near at hand. For some time
now I am haunted by most potent premonitions of a violent death.
Night after night, dark apparitions hang around my bed, and only
last night I awoke to find the Bird of Nu, the Owl, from out the
inner Sanctuary of the Temple, perched upon my pillow and shaking
his head and croaking at me most mournfully."
"What!" exclaimed the Priestess. "The Bird of Nu. Ah! this is indeed
very serious. The matter must be investigated at once. But, my
child, if all these portents prove true, do you fear death? Have
all our teachings been in vain? Have you made so little progress in
knowledge and the philosophy of existence as to be overcome by dark
shadows and grow faint in the presence of the sentiment and show of
an external ceremony? The pageantry, which appeals so overwhelmingly
to the emotions of the outside world, is the necessary means of
teaching the people these awful and stupendous mysteries of life and
death. But the Initiate should be sustained by actual experiences
within these hidden realms and possess a knowledge of their inner
nature which places him on a plane far above the reach of Fear;
besides being endowed with that burning love for wisdom which calmly
discerns good in evil, and immortal life in the shadow, called
death. Do not think I am chiding you, my child. I am only seeking
to recall my real Sarthia, who is incapable of Fear, back to this
physical expression called body.
"There, already the bright soul shines again with its usual clear
light. Hold it firmly and do not let it flicker so again, and now I
must leave you to seek an interview with the chief of the
Astrologers. The record and Horoscope of your birth must be
carefully looked up, and the meaning of these portents determined.
Good-night, my child."
With a kiss, fond and maternal, the Priestess withdrew. She
proceeded leisurely and thoughtfully toward a distant part of the
Temple, having first dispatched a messenger before her to announce
her coming, seeking an audience, well knowing that at this now early
hour of morning the Astrologer Priests would all be in the midst of
their busiest studies, calculations and most profound observations.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account