Of Love

IT IS WRITTEN that ``Love is the law, love under will.'' Herein is an Arcanum concealed, for in the Greek Language Agaph, Love, is of the same numerical value as Velhma, Will. By this we understand that the Universal Will is of the nature of Love.

Now Love is the enkindling in ecstacy of Two that will to become One. It is thus an Universal formula of High Magick. For see now how all things, being in sorrow caused by dividuality, must of necessity will Oneness as their medicine.


Here also is Nature monitor to them that seek Wisdom at her breast: for in the uniting of elements of opposite polarities is there a glory of heat, of light, and of electricity. Thus also in mankind do we behold the spiritual fruit of poetry and all genius, arising from the seed of what is but an animal gesture, in the estimation of such as are schooled in Philosophy. And it is to be noted strongly that the most violent and divine passions are those between people of utterly unharmonious natures.

For us, then, emancipated from all base law, what shall we do to satisfy our Will to Unity? No less a mistress than the Universe: no lupanar more cramped than Infinite Space: no night of rape that is not co-evil with Eternity!

~ Aleister Crowley ~

Now Love is the enkindling in ecstacy of Two that will to become One. It is thus an Universal formula of High Magick. For see now how all things, being in sorrow caused by dividuality, must of necessity will Oneness as their medicine. (Crowley)

Coming Soon!

Lastly, by Liberty is the power to direct your course according to your Will. For the extent of the Universe is without bounds, and ye are free to make your pleasure as ye will. (Crowley)


Coming Soon!

Bryony de Rose lifted a hand to reach out for me, and as she grapsed hold of my trouser leg, she bade me to promise her, "You must go to my glade by the cascades and bury me. Promise me. Promise me you will do this for me.. promise me you will."

I saw the blue of her eyes roll upward, leaving them milk white as she slumped back to the ruined floor of an underground cavern that crumbled apart all around us. She died before dragging a promise from me that I had no intention of fulfilling.

Between this moment and the moment I had exorcised the demon from her body, there is left for me a rather blurry juxtoposition of events. And as nearly as I can fathom, I had not loved Bryony as she deserved. I had not held her. In fact, I could not even follow through the deed of taking her to bed and filling her with my own desire at an Inn we elected to remain at, rather than run off into hiding with the others, Shadow and Lara.

For she had angered me with her jealousy and her scorn over my dead wife, Alexandra; angered me to the point that I was no longer in control of my faculties. Bryony de Rose is.. was.. a virgin. And I took her by force in such a cruel manner, for I wanted her to feel every last inch of my own self-loathing.. until she crawled away from me in shock and in tears.

This was not the way I had wanted it to be. Not in the wee hours before I had sent her off once again to do battle with her Asmodeus, re-infested with the spirit of Leviathan.

I could not make this promise she beseeched of me, to bury Bryony in the cold ground. Instead, I backed myself well out of her reach and merely stared down at her with quite an ache inside of my chest. "Shall I bury you as well.. Taltos?"

Do what thou wilt shall be the whole of the Law. It is I, not another, that willeth your whole Freedom, and the arising within you of full Knowledge and Power. (Crowley)



"It is me, Bryony." Following the last of her convulsions, the young woman blinked several times as confusion swept across her countenance. She knew not where she was, nor how she had gotten there. Yet when I had returned to kneel down beside her, relief washed over her insomuch that she turned and laid her head against my chest.

I had used one of the most forbidden and dangerous spells of all, cast by rote memory from the Necronomicon itself to bind the great beast, Leviathan. Who now lays imprisoned within a newly decapitated corpse.

By now, Shadow and Bryony's companion.. a curious woman named Lara, were urging us to hurry and go. Somewhere. Each offered their own domicile as a refuge. And yet.. I know we cannot leave. Not just yet.

"Is it over? Did I slay the Briar King?" Bryony asked, glancing about to the others before her blue eyes returned again to me.

It is not my desire to send the girl back into the pit of hell where her own trouble awaits. But I must. For there is no other way for her to break that spell under which she has become enslaved. I am even reluctant to touch or hold her.. for I know in my heart already..

Bryony de Rose will die.

Will you be laid low even at the sight of Leviathan? No one is so fierce that he dares to arouse him. (Job 41)


Not every war casualty is in vain; not every death a worthless expense. When Shadow and I arrived within the Weald's sunless heart, the ground lay littered with fallen soldiers.. armed to the gills with pitchforks and lanterns. Their slaughter came not by any human means as far as I could tell.. for they each had been pierced through; impaled. Disembowled. And each with a telltale trace of some ruddy substance rather like lichen smeared near their wounds.

In my time spent admiring the handiwork of some unknown assailant, Shadow had run off toward Carver's Outpost.. which was none too far from where I stood. He was bent upon enlisting himself in a war not his own.. if only for the sake of bringing it to an end. Yet it was not my intent to have his sword arm laid to waste in such pointlessness.. for I had need of him here.. among the slain.

Nevermind him though. He will return.. unless he himself becomes victim to the slayer of the others. I knelt down near my chosen vessel and with my dagger, I cast a circular boundary around the traditional five points into the deceased man's chest. He bled.. but not profusely. For he had been dead several hours by now.

No longer am I aware of the passing time, though the night sky had shifted through more than two constellations by the time Shadow returned. He was carrying Bryony unconscious in his arms and wearing a rather frantic expression upon his frightful maw.

"Lay her here," I indicated the carved up corpse whom I had been kneeling by. Shadow grimaced slightly as if he believed me mad, but after several moments and my own coaxing, he did finally relent and lay the red headed young woman to the ground beside the dead man.. and afterward retreated a safe distance to observe.

Within moments Bryony began to convulse and wretch, until the demon was expelled from her body.. not to return to me again.. but imprisoned inside the body of the corpse where he was angered to violence.

"Now, Shadow! Your sword!"

The man acquiesced and raised the blade overhead briefly before slicing down again with all his might.

Nerve thyself, then, to seek it and to do it. Naught can satisfy thee but the fulfilment of thy transcendent Will, that is hidden within thee. For this, then, up to arms! Win thine own Freedom for thyself! Strike hard! (Crowley)


Through the severed eye I saw a great fire. And many men running about in confusion, derision and all manner of chaos. Inside the fire stands a house, its timbers and beams slowly collapsing inward. Yet Bryony de Rose is nowhere in sight amidst what appears to be a war. Yes. A war. It is Astarté I have reached. She watches for me; listens to their unintelligible cries for vengeance.. and at last I have gathered that the burning house belongs to one of the men in Carver's Outpost. They blame.. Bryony.. for this great arsen.

"Are you any good with a sword?" This I asked of Shadow, who once again seemed revolted by the mere idea of fighting. I suppose he thought I would enlist him into a battle of arms. And while I did intend to enlist him.. it was nothing like he may have imagined. For it is a demon I mean to trap.

I must find Bryony soon.

Shadow and I had gone as far as we could without thoroughly exhausting our horses. Yet when we stopped to make camp for the night, we were surrounded by a small brigand of thugs who meant to lighten our burdens a wee bit. Though I am sure it did not help that neither of us had all that much in our possession to begin with.


Shadow attacked them with a blinding speed of dexterity, leaving all but one caught in his headlock. "What shall I do with him," he queried, seeming as if it might please Shadow to end the man's life on the spot.

Yet I have no desire to leave one dead nor even destitute for simple revenge. I took but one of the man's eyes from him. He screamed in remorse as Shadow held him fast.. as well as his own bile from rising. Yet it was necessary.

"Let him go, Shadow," I said quietly. My attention lay now on the man's eye as I held it up to the moonlight in the palm of my hand. It was my intention to see, if possible.. what sort of tangle my former bride may have gotten herself into. If any at all.

No sooner had I left the Inn, the woman with her interesting notions of soothesaying, and the warm meal from which I had partaken, I was met up by a hooded fellow of impressive height. He seemed taken keeping his visage well hidden.. though I cannot say I blamed him after my first glimpse. For he sported an entire faceful of red and black markings as well as a set of horns protruding through his bald head. Yet after once he had gained my favor, he admitted he too, was heading in the same direction.. to the Amberleaf Weald. As if to compound his intent to travel as my companion, the man hailed us two horses, procuring them with his own coin. My journey to reach Bryony de Rose was now.. godspeed.


The man with his strange facial markings introduced himself and henceforth became known to me as Shadow. Across the Ivory Prairie and all throughout the night we made our haste until we reached the Amber Mountains, inside of which lays nestled the Weald.. that enchanted forest from which my.. former bride.. hails.

The Law

Do what thou wilt shall be the whole of the Law.

IN RIGHTEOUSNESS OF HEART come hither, and listen: for it is I, TO MEGA THERION, who gave this Law unto everyone that holdeth himself holy. It is I, not another, that willeth your whole Freedom, and the arising within you of full Knowledge and Power.

Behold! the Kingdom of God is within you, even as the Sun standeth eternal in the heavens, equal at midnight and at noon. He riseth not: he setteth not: it is but the shadow of the earth which concealeth him, or the clouds upon her face.


Let me then declare unto you this Mystery of the Law, as it hath been made known unto me in divers places, upon the mountains and in the deserts, but also in great cities, which thing I speak for your comfort and good courage. And so be it unto all of you.

Know first, that from the Law spring four Rays or Emanations: so that if the Law be the centre of your own being, they must needs fill you with their secret goodness. And these four are Light, Life, Love, and Liberty.

By Light shall ye look upon yourselves, and behold All Things that are in Truth One Thing only, whose name hath been called No Thing for a cause which later shall be declared unto you. But the substance of Light is Life, since without Existence and Energy it were naught. By Life therefore are you made yourselves, eternal and incorruptible, flaming forth as suns, self-created and self-supported, each the sole centre of the Universe.

Now by the Light ye beheld, by Love ye feel. There is an ecstacy of pure Knowledge, and another of pure Love. And this Love is the force that uniteth things diverse, for the contemplation in Light of their Oneness. Know that the Universe is not at rest, but in extreme motion whose sum is Rest. And this understanding that Stability is Change, and Change Stability, that Being is Becoming, and Becoming Being, is the Key to the Golden Palace of this Law.

Lastly, by Liberty is the power to direct your course according to your Will. For the extent of the Universe is without bounds, and ye are free to make your pleasure as ye will, seeing that the diversity of being is infinite also. For this also is the Joy of the Law, that no two stars are alike, and ye must understand also that this Multiplicity is itself Unity, and without it Unity could not be. And this is an hard saying against Reason: ye shall comprehend, when, rising above Reason, which is but a manipulation of the Mind, ye come to pure Knowledge by direct perception of the Truth.

Know also that these four Emanations of the Law flame forth upon all paths: ye shall use them not only in these Highways of the Universe whereof I have written, but in every By-path of your daily life.

Love is the law, love under will.

~ Aleister Crowley ~

Evelyn the whore. Her death was not in vain. For she served me well, allowing me to see across a vast chasm through her blood. And I see a burning.. a house, perhaps. And a village not far off from it, where the seeds of discord have been sown. I did not see Bryony, whom I sought. Yet I know.. she is still yet alive.. and in a place where even Astarté seems afraid to tread.

For now, my ears have closed to the prophetic utterings of a stranger whose eyes are far too blind to see even one shred of truth in me. My destiny is laid clear before me.. for Chaos is none other than the Sword of Leviathan. This much I have born witness to, time and again.

It shall not be very long before you come to understand that such a life is the true Liberty. You will feel distractions from your Will as being what they are. They will no longer appear pleasant and attractive, but as bonds, as shames. And when you have attained this point, know that you have passed the Middle Gate of this Path. For you will have unified your Will. (Crowley)


There is always the unseen risk of opening a portal and allowing other entities to trespass where they were not invited. Such as the divine scales of Retribution.. or Tisiphone, the avenger of the Erinyes. Although I cannot be for certain.

She brought a prophecy of a sort when she entered my rented room, compelling me, if possible, into a remorseful confession. I hear the words.. but not all of them are divine. And I am more than convinced it is a trick of Leviathan to repel me from my current path.

"Who has sent you here? Who are you?" I had asked her this more than once, though when her answer did finally arrive, there seemed a bitter sorcery to it that could not have its roots securely entwined in either the retributive justice of Nemesis, nor the avenging spirit of Tisiphone.

"I am the Catalyst Feyth de Macedo, one who is both warning and witness, at least as far as you are concerned. You should be more interested in why I was sent here." She says she has come to me on behalf of Change, Chance, and Chaos.

"Death holds little fear for me, Necromancer. I have already lived and died and lived again. Death and I have danced. But why do you leave your handiwork naked and forlorn upon a bed of blood and longing? This scene is a sculpture of your art, and more importantly, your Choice. Ah, the future is a creative act. And it rests on the sum of all our choices, yours more than most. You had no right to take her life. By making your Choice, you denied her hers. I am here to see that you have another and this one, will twist the destinies of thousands in its wake, yours not least among them. You seek to obtain that which you have not earned, unwilling to risk giving what could net you all you desire. And so, you sabotage your own secret dreams to hold graveyard dirt in your hands. There is much you will need to do before the conditions are met for the Choice you have been selected to make. We will meet again, I’m afraid."

She was gone before I could speak a further word on my own behalf. Though in the end, I suppose it was best that I held my tongue as I did. For I shall not bear a guilt that is not mine to bear. Nor shall I turn back from the choices I have already made. Leviathan awaits me. I will.. stop him. Even if Bryony must be ripped limb from limb in the crossfire.

Search yourselves cunningly, I pray you, analysing your inmost thoughts. And first you shall discard all those gross obvious hindrances to your Will: idleness, foolish friendships, waste employments or enjoyments, I will not enumerate the conspirators against the welfare of your State. (Crowley)


It is an insifnificant town that sits at the foothills of the Heroesbane Range, so insignificant that I do not recall its name. Nevertheless it brims with an age-old profession wherein painted women lurk about the Inns in search of lonely travelers with whom they might grant a sexual favor in exchange for a bit of bread.. or perhaps a coin. And while the town remains nameless in my mind, the whore does not.

I was accosted by more than a few before I relented and allowed one to capture my eyes and my attention. Evelyn. I suspected that at one time, she must have been very pretty. Long before the ravages and usury of time had caught up to her. For now, her smile is sad and her eyes filled with a hollowness. And I pity this woman, who for a piece of bread was willing to spread open wide and bare her very soul to me.. a stranger.

As for me, I cannot defile her. Not like that.

Yet she assured me she was quite willing to succumb to any secret proclivity, no matter how vile.. for the right price. And I am sure she has seen more than her share in her lifetime.

But I shall not take what is precious from her. I shall not know her in such a carnal manner. Though I doubt she was aware of this before she breathed her last and fell backward upon me, bathing me in the warm succor of her sacrifice.

And for this, I kissed her upon her cold brow as a father might. And I left her several coins for her passage into the next life. May she fare better than she did in this one.

For see, what hindereth you? It is either from without or from within, or both. It may be easy for the strong-minded seeker to put his heel upon public opinion, or to tear from his heart the objects which he loves, in a sense: but there will always remain in himself many discordant affections, as also the bond of habit, and these also must he conquer. (Crowley)


The journey to Amberleaf Weald is a grueling one from Eunomia, for I have no horse and I shall be weeks upon the road. Perhaps a month. I can only hope that Bryony is yet alive when I reach her.. for if not, I am the cause of the death of not one wife.. but of two.

I have buried my witch board in Eunomia. That part of Alexandra that I shall no longer desecrate, rests in peace in an unmarked grave with two other souls. I do know that the spirit of Leviathan was bound to it, as was I.. inextricably linked and held imprisoned together. In my haste to destroy it.. I have freed the Beast.

In the first weeks of my journey, I can only dwell upon Bryony day and night. She vexes me to the point of madness. Yes.. I am mad; sick with fever that is not so easily cured.

And if only I could but see her in a vision, to know that she is alive. I must take my lodging soon and devise a way in which to speak to her. I cannot rest, for I must reach her before it is too late.

Of Liberty

IT IS OF LIBERTY that I would first write unto you, for except ye be free to act, ye cannot act. Yet all four gifts of the Law must in some degree be exercised, seeing that these four are one. But for the Aspirant that cometh unto the Master, the first need is freedom.

The great bond of all bonds is ignorance. How shall a man be free to act if he know not his own purpose? You must therefore first of all discover which star of all the stars you are, your relation to the other stars about you, and your relation to, and identity with, the Whole.

In our Holy Books are given sundry means of making this discovery, and each must make it for himself, attaining absolute conviction by direct experience, not merely reasoning and calculating what is probable. And to each will come the knowledge of his finite will, whereby one is a poet, one prophet, one worker in steel, another in jade. But also to each be the knowledge of his infinite Will, his destiny to perform the Great Work, the realization of his True Self. Of this Will let me therefore speak clearly unto all, since it pertaineth unto all.


Understand now that in yourselves is a certain discontent. Analyse well its nature: at the end is in every case one conclusion. The ill springs from the belief in two things, the Self and the Not-Self, and the conflict between them. This also is a restriction of the Will. He who is sick is in conflict with his own body: he who is poor is at odds with society: and so for the rest. Ultimately, therefore, the problem is how to destroy this perception of duality, to attain to the apprehension of unity.

Now then let us suppose that you have come to the Master, and that He has declared to you the Way of this attainment. What hindereth you? Alas! there is yet much Freedom afar off.

Understand clearly this: that if you are sure of your Will, and sure of your means, then any thoughts or actions which are contrary to those means are contrary also to that Will.

If therefore the Master should enjoin upon you a Vow of Holy Obedience, compliance is not a surrender of the Will, but a fulfilment thereof.

For see, what hindereth you? It is either from without or from within, or both. It may be easy for the strong-minded seeker to put his heel upon public opinion, or to tear from his heart the objects which he loves, in a sense: but there will always remain in himself many discordant affections, as also the bond of habit, and these also must he conquer.

In our holiest Book it is written: "Thou hast no right but to do thy will. Do that, and no other shall say nay.'' Write it also in your heart and in your brain: for this is the key of the whole matter.

Here Nature herself be your preacher: for in every phenomenon of force and motion doth she proclaim aloud this truth. Even in so small a matter as driving a nail into a plank, hear this same sermon. Your nail must be hard, smooth, fine-pointed, or it will not move swiftly in the direction willed. Imagine then a nail of tinder-wood with twenty points--it is verily no longer a nail. Yet nigh all mankind are like unto this. They wish a dozen different careers; and the force which might have been sufficient to attain eminence in one is wasted on the others: they are null.

Here then let me make oÿen confession, and say thus: though I pledged myself almost in boyhood to the Great Work, though to my aid came the most puissant forces in the whole Universe to hold me to it, though habit itself now constraineth me in the right direction, yet I have not fulfilled my Will: I turn aside daily from the appointed task. I waver. I falter. I lag.

Let this then be of great comfort to you all, that if I be so imperfect--and for very shame I have not emphasized that imperfection--if I, the chosen one, still fail, then how easy for yourselves to surpass me! Or, should you only equal me, then even so how great attainment should be yours!

Be of good cheer, therefore, since both my failure and my success are arguments of courage for yourselves.

Search yourselves cunningly, I pray you, analysing your inmost thoughts. And first you shall discard all those gross obvious hindrances to your Will: idleness, foolish friendships, waste employments or enjoyments, I will not enumerate the conspirators against the welfare of your State.

Next, find the minimum of daily time which is in good sooth necessary to your natural life. The rest you shall devote to the True Means of your Attainment. And even these necessary hours you shall consecrate to the Great Work, saying consciously always while at these Tasks that you perform them only in order to preserve your body and mind in health for the right application to that sublime and single Object.

It shall not be very long before you come to understand that such a life is the true Liberty. You will feel distractions from your Will as being what they are. They will no longer appear pleasant and attractive, but as bonds, as shames. And when you have attained this point, know that you have passed the Middle Gate of this Path. For you will have unified your Will.

Even thus, were a man sitting in a theatre where the play wearies him, he would welcome every distraction, and find amusement in any accident: but if he were intent upon the play, every such incident would annoy him. His attitude to these is then an indication of his attitude towards the play itself.

At first the habit of attention is hard to acquire. Persevere, and you will have spasms of revulsion periodically. Reason itself will attack you, saying: how can so strict a bondage be the Path of Freedom?

Persevere. You have never yet known Liberty. When the temptations are overcome, the voice of Reason silenced, then will your soul bound forward unhampered upon its chosen course, and for the first time will you experience the extreme delight of being Master of Yourself, and therefore of the Universe.

When this is fully attained, when you sit securely in the saddle, then you may enjoy also all those distractions which first pleased you and then angered you. Now then will do neither any more: for they are your slaves and toys.

Until you have reached this point, you are not wholly free. You must kill out desire, and kill out fear. The end of all is the power to live according to your own nature, without danger that one part may develop to the detriment of the whole, or concern lest that danger should arise.

The sot drinks, and is drunken: the coward drinks not, and shivers: the wise man, brave and free, drinks, and gives glory to the Most High God.

This then is the Law of Liberty: you possess all Liberty in your own right, but you must buttress Right with Might: you must win Freedom for yourself in many a war. Woe unto the children who sleep in the Freedom that their forefathers won for them!

There is no law beyond 'Do what thou wilt,' but it is only the greatest of the race who have the strength and courage to obey it.

O man! behold thyself! With what pains wast thou fashioned! What ages have gone to thy shaping! The history of the planet is woven into the very substance of thy brain! Was all this for naught? Is there no purpose in thee? Wast thou made thus that thou shouldst eat, and breed, and die? Think it not so! Thou dost incorporate so many elements, thou art the fruit of so many aeons of labour, thou art fashioned thus as thou art, and not otherwise, for some colossal End.

Nerve thyself, then, to seek it and to do it. Naught can satisfy thee but the fulfilment of thy transcendent Will, that is hidden within thee. For this, then, up to arms! Win thine own Freedom for thyself! Strike hard!

~ Aleister Crowley ~

Only in the case of thy wife this is difficult, since she is more to thee than all others, and in this case thou mayst act with temperance, lest her personality overcome and destroy that of thy Deity. (Crowley)


It is but a few days gone by since I have last seen Bryony.. or Astarté, for that matter. And I have begun to suspect this lightness upon my shoulders.. this liberation.. the absense of Leviathan can mean but one thing: My love is in grave danger.

Leviathan will demand an exorbitant price from her, if not her very life. And this I fear, is all my own doing. I was weak when I should have been strong. I allowed her to trespass into the natural affections of a woman for a man.. when I should have banished her.

I allowed her tears to seep through my fortified strongholds.. when I had been forewarned. And now.. she will suffer for my transgression.

Further concerning the value of this Method. Certain objections arise. Firstly, in the nature of all human love is illusion, and a certain blindness. Nor is there any true love below the Veil of the Abyss. (Crowley)


Wife.

She is constantly on my mind, now more than ever. Three days of utter darkness and pain have left me little else to dwell upon.. until at last, and much to his surprise, I have allowed Priam the Executioner to find me. All the while he had held to his belief that I and Bryony had left Eunomia together. Perhaps Astarté held the same assumption as well.. for she is nowhere to be found.

It is unknown whether anyone may recover from the injuries inflicted by such a bed of nails, for most who've had the misfortune of tasting the cruelties of Priam's torture chamber, are swiftly put to death beneath his blood stained axe in the end. It has taken me several weeks to feel as though I might actually join the living once again.. though I dare not say I shall ever be fully alive.

It is in my best interest to take my bounty share of Eunomia's harvest and head back to my own home within the Gloumenwood. For I am certain I have overstayed my welcome.. and the Executioner's hospitality wears thin.

And yet a part of me.. longs to seek my wife.
Bryony.

Concerning the secrecy and the rites of Blood. During this practice it is most wise that the Philosophus utter no word concerning his sacrifice, as if it were a Forbidden Love that consumeth him. (Crowley)


"Be mine."

This last time when I kissed her, it was rather deliberate on my part. And I felt a tremendous weight lifted from my shoulders in the process. It is hard to describe really.. but I feel as if I have been liberated. And now I wish for her to be mine.. be my wife. Come and fill that void I have been denying for so very long.

Bryony became ill.. and nauseatingly so. Yet awhile later when she had recovered, her joy seemed writ upon her countenance. And remarkably she became.. the epitomé of health.. despite the fact that Thanatos, the Healer never had a chance to treat her.

"But.. what of your wife, Warrick?"

"She died.. long ago," I whispered at first, only to reiterate a little more audibly, "Long ago. Say you will be mine, yes?"

Bryony seemed eager, even plotting out the night ahead. For I was not sure whether she would want to wait until the knot had been officially tied by an invested cleric. Yes, she seemed eager, beseeching me to teach her tonight how to be a woman. And tomorrow, a wife.

Within the Executioner's home there lies a cellar.. common as most. Though his is almost utterly devoid of roots and the like. In their stead are various implements of torture. Devices meant to pry confessions from the damned.. before their eventual executions. I led my bride-to-be down into Priam's cellar.. for it is inside my heart to confess to her. Confess what truly became of Alexandra.. all those many years ago.

Pain is necessary to extract from me what I know will be difficult to say. Yet I never quite got the chance to employ her in a bit of my own need for torture.. for Bryony rushed back up the stairs out of the cellar and locked the door, leaving me to my own demise down there in the dark.

I have lost.. everything. And for a time..I feared I had lost my own life as well.

The Philosophus is peculiarly liable to this because from the nature of the Method he cannot remain skeptical; he must, for the time, believe in his particular Deity. But let him (1) consider that this belief is only a weapon in his hands, (2) affirm sufficiently that his Deity is but an emanation or reflection or eidolon of a Being beyond him, as was said. For if he fail herein, since man cannot remain permanently in Samadhi, the memorised Image in his mind will be degraded, and replaced by the corresponding Demon, to his utter ruin. (Crowley)


I went to Priam when he cried out, only to see him tumble the weight of a body off his brawny squared shoulder. It was Thanatos the Healer. He was quite dead and with a brazen smile eternally curled upon his mouth.. which made it seem all the more garish, I suppose. How could this have happened? And yet I know for certain that when the villagers catch wind of the man's death, they will seek out Bryony as the culprit. Do not ask me why that is.

Priam the Executioner will bury the truth before dawn. For he is also the village Undertaker. But first things first. For we have a little business to conjure, and he an old score to settle.

It seems Priam once had a lover by the name of Emma, who as a result of their secret liasons became pregnant. Not so much harm in that really.. except that Emma was a married woman, whose husband had been away more than a year trading with the citizens of the City of Gates. When he returned and discovered her belly ripe with a child that could not possibly have been his own, she was charged with adultery before the village council and condemned to the Executioner's axe. To be buried headless in the potter's field down at the furthest edge of the cemetary proper.

It was said that the man whom she had her relations with, must have been a passing traveler. For not a soul in the Village of Eunomia spoke up in her defense, nor to share in the woman's conviction.

Emma's last tearful request as she peered up from the chopping block into Priam's eyes: She would like to be buried with her head, unlike all the rest of the unfortunates who have fallen beneath the Executioner's axe.

But it seemed Priam did not have it within him to confess to her ghostly apparition when we conjured her from the dead.. that her head had been later torn apart by rabid wolves when it was tossed outside the village gates on that very same night of her death. In his haste to make ammends for this great wrong.. the Executioner exhumed her gravesite and buried the head of Thanatos the Healer alongside the decayed remains of Emma.

Before he could refill the plot again with dirt, I took Bryony with me.. and I tossed my witch board and planchette down into the quagmire with Priam. He wondered whether I had gone mad. Yet I assured him quite the opposite, in fact: "Do this, Priam. And do not demand an accounting of me. Whatever more you ask of me, it shall be done before this night is through."

Rest in peace, Alexandra.
And you as well, both Emma and Thanatos.

Did you know that Thanatos means Death? I find that so ironic that I am greatly amused by it. Let his namesake come upon him when he least suspects, in the guise of lust and feminine wiles. And I know just the way, Astarté.. I know just the way.


Seek him out in the local village tavern when his belly is sour with strong gin. Lure him out into the street and seduce him. Let rapture freeze his countenance when his namesake, Death embraces him. But be not seen.

Go, Astarté.

Concerning Mortifications. These are not necessary to this method. On the contrary, they may destroy the concentration, as counter-irritants to, and so alleviations of, the supreme mortification which is the Absence of the Deity invoked.


Yet as in mortal love arises a distaste for food, or a pleasure in things naturally painful, this perversion should be endured and allowed to take its course. Yet not to the interference with natural bodily health, whereby the instrument of the soul might be impaired.

And concerning sacrifices for love's sake, they are natural to this Method, and right. But concerning voluntary privations and tortures, without use save as against the devotee, they are generally not natural to healthy natures, and wrong. For they are selfish. To scourge one's self serves not one's master; yet to deny one's self bread that one's child may have cake is the act of a true mother.

Further concerning Mortifications. If thy body, on which thou ridest, be so disobedient a beast that by no means will he travel in the desired direction, or if thy mind be baulkish and eloquent as Balaam's fabled Ass, then let the practice be abandoned. Let the shrine be covered in sackcloth, and do thou put on habits of lamentation, and abide alone. And do thou return most austerely to the practice of Liber Jugorum, testing thyself by a standard higher than that hitherto accomplished, and punishing effractions with a heavier goad. Nor do thou return to thy devotion until that body and mind are tamed and trained to all manner of peaceable going.

Concerning minor methods adjuvant in the ceremonies. I. Rising on the planes. By this method mayst thou assist the imagination at the time of concluding thine Invocation. Act as taught in Liber O, by the light of Liber 777.

Concerning minor methods adjuvant in the ceremonies. II. Talismanic Magic. Having made by thine Ingenium a talisman or pantacle to represent the particular Deity, and consecrated it with infinite love and care, do thou burn it ceremonially before the shrine, as if thereby giving up the shadow for the substance. But it is useless to do this unless thou do really in thine heart value the talisman beyond all else that thou hast.

Concerning minor methods adjuvant in the ceremonies. III. Rehearsal. It may assist if the traditional history of the particular Deity be rehearsed before him; perhaps this is best done in dramatic form. This method is the main one recommended in the "Exercitios Espirituales" of St Ignatius, whose work may be taken as a model. Let the Philosophus work out the legend of his own particular Deity, and apportioning days to events, live that life in imagination, exercising the five senses in turn, as occasion arises. Concerning minor matters adjuvant in the ceremonies. IV. Duresse. This method consists in cursing a deity recalcitrant; as, threatening ceremonially "to burn the blood of Osiris, and to grind down his bones to power." This method is altogether contrary to the spirit of love unless the particular Deity be himself savage and relentless; as Jehovah or Kali. In such a case the desire to perform constraint and cursing may be the sign of the assimilation of the spirit of the devotee with that of his God, and so an advance to the Union with HIm.

Concerning the value of this particular form of Union or Samadhi. All Samadhi is defined as the ecstatic union of a subject and object in consciousness, with the result that a third thing arises which partakes in no way of the nature of the two.

It would seem at first sight that it is of no importance whatever to choose an object of meditation. For example, the Samadhi called Atmadarshana might arise from simple concentration of the thought on an imagined triangle, or on the heart.

But as the union of two bodies in chemistry may be endothermic or exothermic, the combination of Oxygen with Nitrogen is gentle, while that of Oxygen with Hydrogen is explosive; and as it is found that the most heat is disengaged as a rule by the union of bodies most opposite in character, and that the compound resulting from such is most stable, so it seems reasonable to suggest that the most important and enduring Samadhi results from the contemplation of the Object most opposite to the devotee. [On other planes, it has been suggested that the most opposed types make the best marriages and produce the healthiest children. The greatest pictures and operas are those in which violent extremes are blended, and so generally in every field of activity. Even in mathematics, the greatest parallelogram is formed if the lines composing it are set at right angles. ED.]

Conclusions from the foregoing. It may then be suggested to the Philosophus, that although his work will be harder his reward will be greater if he choose a Deity most remote from his own nature. This method is harder and higher than that of Liber E. For a simple object as there suggested is of the same nature as the commonest things of life, while even the meanest Deity is beyond uninitiated human understanding. On the same plane, too, Venus is nearer to man than Aphrodite, Aphrodite than Isis, Isis than Babylon, Babylon than Nuit.

Let him decide therefore according to his discretion on the one hand and his aspiration on the other; and let not one outrun his fellow.

Further concerning the value of this Method. Certain objections arise. Firstly, in the nature of all human love is illusion, and a certain blindness. Nor is there any true love below the Veil of the Abyss. For this reason we give this method to the Philosoÿhus, as the reflection of the Exempt Adept, who reflects the Magister Templi and the Magus. Let then the Philosophus attain this Method as a foundation of the higher Methods to be given to him when he attains those higher grades.

Another objection lies in the partiality of this Method. This is equally a defect characteristic of the Grade.

Concerning a notable danger of Success. It may occur that owing to the tremendous power of the Samadhi, overcoming all other memories as it should and does do, that the mind of the devotee may be obsessed, so that he declare his particular Deity to be sole God and Lord. This error has been the foundation of all dogmatic religions, and so the cause of more misery than all other errors combined.

The Philosophus is peculiarly liable to this because from the nature of the Method he cannot remain sceptical; he must for the time believe in his particular Deity. But let him (1) consider that this belief is only a weapon in his hands, (2) affirm sufficiently that his Deity is but an emanation or reflection or eidolon of a Being beyond him, as was said in Paragraph 2. For if he fail herein, since man cannot remain permanently in Samadhi, the memorised Image in his mind will be degraded, and replaced by the corresponding Demon, to his utter ruin.

Therefore, after Success, let him not delight overmuch in his Deity, but rather busy himself with his other work, not permitting that which is but a step to become a goal. As it is written also, Liber CLXXXV.: "remembering that Philosophy is the Equilibrium of him that is in the House of Love."

Concerning the secrecy and the rites of Blood. During this practice it is most wise that the Philosophus utter no word concerning his working, as if it were a Forbidden Love that consumeth him. But let him answer fools according to their folly; for since he cannot conceal his love from his fellows, he must speak to them as they may understand.

And as many Deities demand sacrifice, one of men, another of cattle, a third of doves, let these sacrifices be replaced by the true sacrifices in thine own heart. Yet if thou must symbolise them outwardly for the hardness of thine heart, let thine own blood, and not another's, be spilt before that altar. [The exceptions to this rule pertain neither to this practice, nor to this grade. N. Fra. A.·. A.·..] Nevertheless, forget not that this practice is dangerous, and may cause the manifestation of evil things, hostile and malicious, to thy great hurt.

Concerning a further sacrifice. Of this it shall be understood that nothing is to be spoken; nor need anything be spoken to him that hath wisdom to comprehend the number of the paragraph. And this sacrifice is fatal beyond all, unless it be a sacrifice indeed. Yet there are those who have dared and achieved thereby.

Concerning yet a further sacrifice. Here it is spoken of actual mutilation. Such acts are abominable; and while they may bring success in this Method, form an absolute bar to all further progress. And they are in any case more likely to lead to madness than to Samadhi. He indeed who purposeth them is already mad.

Concerning human affection. During this practice thou shalt in no wise withdraw thyself from human relations, only figuring to thyself that thy father or thy brother or thy wife is as it were an image of thy particular Deity. Thus shall they gain, and not lose, by thy working. Only in the case of thy wife this is difficult, since she is more to thee than all others, and in this case thou mayst act with temperance, lest her personality overcome and destroy that of thy Deity.

Concerning the Holy Guardian Angel. Do thou in no wise confuse this invocation with that.

The Benediction. And so may the love that passeth all Understanding keep your hearts and minds through Iota-Alpha-Omega Alpha-Delta-Omicron-Nu-Alpha-Iota Sigma-Alpha-Beta-Alpha-Omega and through BABYLON of the City of the Pyramids, and through Astarte, the Starry One green-girdled, in the name ARARITA. AMN.

~ Aleister Crowley ~

It is difficult.. not to kiss her. To allow the nature of things to simply run their own courses without any manipulations on my part. I laid Bryony to a cot after Priam cleared it from a clutter of debris, both soothing and shushing her with my hands about her face. I believe.. she has grown dear to me.. and I am certain 'tis for the best that after my business with Priam the Executioner.. I shall sever my every last tie to my beloved wife, Alexandra.


"I mean to take this lady to see Thanatos before the night is through. But I do not think she has it within her to go a step further. Will you fetch him for me?" This I asked of Priam the Executioner, even as he donned his cloak to go and search out the Healer on my behalf.

No sooner had Bryony drifted off beneath a light blanket of slumber, it was I who succumbed to temptation. Yet again. And yes.. I realize this is madness.. for I keep seeing the face of Alexandra, lying there beneath my attentions. Though Bryony's breast still rhtymically rises and falls with each breath.

I kissed her. Only lightly at first. And I meant to force the course of nature, I suspect.. and ultimately lay with her as lover's ought. But once again, it was not to be. For there came a terrible bang upon the door moments before the Executioner's blood curdling shouts: "Warrick!! Come quick!!"

I have decided to heed Bryony's implications in not so many words.. that it is time I lay my beloved Alexandra to rest. She deserves the peace.. as do I.


We reached the gates of Eunomia, Bryony and I, just before nightfall. She was on her last leg.. her last breath. And though I had promised to take her to the House of Thanatos the Healer, I detoured to the House of Priam first. For he had been expecting me yesterday.. while a visit to the Healer was only impromptu.

Bryony seemed a little bent upon taking care of herself, if I only gave her the name of the Healer and a brief direction to his home. But in my better judgement, I felt it was best to keep her with me, lest she come to harm. Twice already she was mistaken for Astarté and I could feel their disapproving judgements upon her.. even while she clings to my arm.

Yes.. I think it is for the best that I lay my Alexandra to rest. For I am certain that it is Bryony who needs me the more.

Note well that in this state of dryness a thousand seductions will lure thee away; also a thousand means of breaking thine oath in spirit without breaking it in letter. Against this thou mayst repeat the words of thine oath aloud again and again until the temptation be overcome.

Also the devil will represent to thee that it were much better for this operation that thou do thus and thus, and seek to affright thee by fears for thy health or thy reason. Or he may send against thee visions worse than madness. (Crowley)


There may be a myriad of reasons why I let my guard down. A myriad of reasons why I allowed myself to fall under such a vexing spell. But only one can I attribute chiefly to my own deliberation.. and that is a weakness I have never quite let go of. A weakness that keeps me attached forevermore at the hip to my dead wife's memory.

She passed right through my soul and left her essence to linger upon my clothes and inside of my mouth, using Bryony de Rose as a conduit with which to reach me. And I am neither the better for it, nor fulfilled in any way.. but wounded as I was the very day she died in my arms.

She left me. She left me standing there, confused and staring into the eyes of a woman.. I am not attracted to. Not in the least. Her trembles against me do not stir a burning desire in my loins. And neither does the taste of her fingers in my mouth cause me to yearn for Bryony with an insatiable passion. For I am above such things. Truly.

Beware, Magus. When your eyes have become blurred with covetousness and unbridled passion, I shall throw you to the hungered maws of wolves, where your desire may come to fruition so ripe that it rots even before you have risen to spill your first drop of lust. And they in turn shall tear you to pieces with their gnashing teeth. Whatever you have done in secret, shall not be witheld in recompense.. but shall revisit you, times three.

I am above such things. Truly. But.. to lay with her one last time. Alexandra.

If only I could cleave to the inside of her belly..
one.. last..
time.

"How long.. has your wife.. you know. How long have you been alone, Warrick?"

She had briefly caught me off guard, reminding me of my constant lonliness, of which I had started to answer.. before realizing the snare. For I am hardly alone. Astarté is my constant companion.. aside from the Spirit whose name I do not speak in Bryony's hearing.

"She died just a little over twenty-five years ago."


"Do you honestly prefer the cat's company to someone who can talk back, smile.. cook you dinner?"

"I must say.. I've not ever given it much thought. Astarté has taken the bitterness from my wife's death. But it is Alexandra whom I revere. Not the cat."

"You speak of her with love in your voice. You must miss her very much."

I shall not admit this flaw to her, lest in so doing she spin her wiles about me and ensnare me into confessions and longings that are best left forgotten. In silence, I left her side on the path and walked far ahead of her, giving Bryony little to no opportunity to catch up to me again. Not for several hours until we had broken pace for a lunch of raw onions and apples.

Yet herein is danger, for that the Mind is fluid as quicksilver, and bordereth upon the Abyss, and is beset by many sirens and devils that seduce and attack to destroy it. (Crowley)


Had I never dwelt upon my espoused faithfulness in all my journeys to and from the Village of Eunomia, I would not have buffered myself against all manner of temptation. And yet this time as we reach the halfway point through Gloumenwood, I am suddenly relieved to feel the weight of my guilt's burden grow lighter and lighter, the further I am from Alexandra.

Yet I must not give in to the temptation that plods along more slowly behind me, and so I keep my pace without appearing to give much concern for Bryony's lagging footsteps.

"You have a natural affinity for.. your possessions. It makes you weak." This I had told her when she fell into mourning and a form of mental self-flagellation over her dead horse. Calliope, she had named the mare.. had fallen prey to one of the giant spiders that hunt the Gloumenwood. Spooked, the horse had gone running off, only to become ensnared in a web of tensile silk and eventually spun into a cocoon so tight that she had no hope of escape.

Bryony had urged me into foolishness, trying to save the mare from destruction. For she has this misplaced hope, I suppose like any other woman, that there is a pot of gold at the end of every rainbow as reward for all hard effort and long suffering. In the end, her horse would die.. with or without any valiant heroics on my part. With or without Bryony's tears and remorse.

Later it was her turn to pry into me.

Божество ночи, возникает Вахта над мной с самыми сильными глазами По мере того как я перемещаю, полиняйте ваш свет И держите меня сейф оба все время наблюдают над моими пожитками, пожалуйста, И даруйте мое отключение заполните с миром защитите меня для меня ваши После этого направьте меня безопасно назад для того чтобы самонавести.


I had been on my way to the Village of Eunomia for my twice yearly trade with the citizens there, when I met Bryony on the path. She was coming toward me, grasping at her side with a shortness of breath as if perhaps her ribs had been cracked.

By the next day I had determined that she needed a Healer, of which I am not. I told her that I would bring one back with me, when I returned from the Village. But the young lady with her flaming red locks was determined to accompany me there. She will suit herself.. for I sense in her a stubbornness, and therefore shall not waste many words in counseling her more wisely that she ought to lie in bed and remain behind. My house is safe, afterall. Far safer than any trek through Gloumenwood.

I packed my leather satchel with my witch board and planchette, as well as a handful of sweet Vidalia onions and apples with bright rosy blush spots mottling their golden skins. It is down to my last of supplies in the root cellar, and why I must procrastinate no further.

Bryony was left to her wiles for the space of about half an hour while I bolstered myself behind a locked door in my sleeping chamber. I drew the five points of a pentacle upon the floor all around me in chalk, and there I chanted the words of magick.. of spell making.

Leviathan is the Deity of Darkness, yet he shall succumb and hear my prayer this morning.

Continuation. Third, even if he have leisure and preparation, let him seek ever to bring inward the symbols, so that even in his well ordered shrine the whole ceremony revolve inwardly in his heart, that is to say in the temple of his body, of which the outer temple is but an image. For in the brain is the shrine, and there is no Image therein; and the breath of man is the incense and the libation.

Continuation. Further concerning occupation. Let the devotee transmute within the alembic of his heart every thought, or word, or act into the spiritual gold of his devotion.


As thus: eating. Let him say: "I eat this food in gratitude to my Deity that hath sent it to me, in order to gain strength for my devotion to Him."

Or: sleeping. Let him say: "I lie down to sleep, giving thanks for this blessing from my Deity, in order that I may be refreshed for new devotion to Him."

Or: reading. Let him say: "I read this book that I may study the nature of my Deity, that further knowledge of Him may inspire me with deeper devotion to Him."

Or: working. Let him say: "I drive my spade into the earth that fresh flowers (fruit, or what not) may spring up to His glory, and that I, purified by toil, may give better devotion to Him."

Or: whatever it may be that he is doing, let him reason it out in his own mind, drawing it through circumstance and circumstance to that one end and conclusion of the matter. And let him not perform the act until he hath done this.

As it is written: Liber VII, cap. v. ---

Every breath, every word, every thought is an act of love with thee.
The beat of my heart is the pendulum of love.
The songs of me are the soft sighs:
The thoughts of me are very rapture:
And my deeds are the myriads of Thy Children, the stars and the atoms.

And Remember Well, that if thou wert in truth a lover, all this wouldst thou do of thine own nature without the slightest flaw or failure in the minutest part thereof.

Concerning the Lections. Let the Philosoÿhus read solely in his copies of the holy books of Thelema, during the whole period of his devotion. But if he weary, then let him read books which have no part whatever in love, as for recreation.

But let him copy out each verse of Thelema which bears upon this matter, and ponder them, and comment thereupon. For therein is a wisdom and a magic too deep to utter in any other wise.

Concerning the Meditations. Herein is the most potent method of attaining unto the End, for him who is thoroughly prepared, being purified by the practice of the Transmutation of deed into devotion, and consecrated by the right performance of the holy ceremonies. Yet herein is danger, for that the Mind is fluid as quicksilver, and bordereth upon the Abyss, and is beset by many sirens and devils that seduce and attack it to destroy it. Therefore let the devotee beware, and precise accurately his meditations, even as a man should build a canal from sea to sea.

Continuation. Let then the Philosophus meditate upon all love that hath ever stirred him. There is the love of David and of Jonathan, and the love of Abraham and Isaac, and the love of Lear and Cordelia, and the love of Damon and Pythias, and the love of Sappho and Atthis, and the love of Romeo and Juliet, and the love of Dante and Beatrice, and the love of Paolo and Francesca, and the love of Caesar and Lucrezia Borgia, and the love of Aucassin and Nicolette, and the love of Daphnis and Chloe, and the love of Cornelia and Caius Gracchus, and the love of Bacchus and Ariadne, and the love of Cupid and Psyche, and the love of Endymion and Artemis, and the love of Demeter and Persephone, and the love of Venus and Adonis, and the love of Lakshmi and Vishnu, and the love of Siva and Bhavani, and the love of Buddha and Ananda, and the love of Jesus and John, and many more.

Also there is the love of many saints for their particular deity, as of St. Francis of Assisi for Christ, of Sri Sabhapaty Swami for Maheswara, of Abdullah Haji Shirazi for Allah, of St Ignatius Loyola for Mary, and many more.

Now do thou take one such story every night, and enact it in thy mind, grasping each identity with infinite care and zest, and do thou figure thyself as one of the lovers and thy Deity as the other. Thus do thou pass through all adventures of love, not omitting one; and to each do thou conclude: How pale a reflection is this of my love for this Deity!

Yet from each shalt thou draw some knowledge of love, some intimacy with love, that shall aid thee to perfect thy love. Thus learn the humility of love from one, its obedience from another, its intensity from a third, its purity from a fourth, its peace from yet a fifth.

So then thy love being made perfect, it shall be worthy of that perfect love of His. Further concerning meditation. Moreover let the Philosophus imagine to himself that he hath indeed succeeded in his devotion, and that his Lord hath appeared to him, and that they converse as may be fitting.

Concerning the Mysterious Triangle. Now then as three cords separately may be broken by a child, while those same cords duly twisted may bind a giant, let the Philosophus learn to entwine these three methods of Magic into a Spell.

To this end let him understand that as they are One, because the end is one, so are they One because the method is One, even the method of turning the mind toward the particular Deity by love in every act. And lest thy twine slip, here is a little cord that wrappeth tightly round and round all, even the Mantram or Continuous Prayer.

Concerning the Mantram of Continuous Prayer. Let the Philosophus weave the Name of the Particular Deity into a sentence short and rhythmical, as, for Artemis: epsilon-pi-epsilon-lambda-theta-omicron-nu, epsilon-pi-epsilon-lambda-theta-omicron-nu, Alpha-rho-tau-epsilon-mu-iota-sigma; or, for Shiva: Namo Shivaya namaha Aum; or, for Mary: Ave Maria; or for Pan, chi-alpha-iota-rho-epsilon Sigma-omega-tau-eta-rho kappa-omicron-sigma-mu-omicron-upsilon, Iota-omega Pi-alpha-nu, Iota-omega Pi-alpha-nu; or, for Allah: Hua Allahu alazi lailaha illa Hua.

Let him repeat this day and night without cessation mechanically in his brain, which is thus made ready for the advent of that Lord, and armed against all other.

Concerning the Active and the Passive. Let the Philosophus change from the active love of his particular Deity to a state of passive waiting, even almost a repulsion, the repulsion not of distaste, but of sublime modesty.

As it is written, Liber LXV.ii.59. I have called unto Thee, and I have journeyed unto Thee, and it availed me not. 60. I waited patiently, and Thou wast with me from the beginning.

Then let him change back to the Active, until a veritable rhythm is established between the states, as it were the swinging of a Pendulum. But let him reflect that a vast intelligence is required for this; for he must stand as it were almost without himself to watch those phases of himself, And to do this is a high Art, and pertaineth not altogether to the grade of Philosoÿhus. Neither is it of itself helpful, but rather the reverse, in this especial practice.

Concerning silence. Now there may come a time in the course of this practice when the outward symbols of devotion cease, when the soul is as it were dumb in the presence of its God. Mark that this is not a cessation, but a transmutation of the barren seed of prayer into the green shoot of yearning. This yearning is spontaneous, and it shall be left to grow, whether it be sweet or bitter. For often times it is as the torment of hell in which the soul burns and writhes unceasingly. Yet it ends, and at its end continue openly thy Method.

Concerning Dryness. Another state wherein at times the soul may fall is this dark night. And this is indeed purifying in such depths that the soul cannot fathom it. It is less like pain than like death. But it is the necessary death that comes before the rising of a body glorified.

This state must be endured with fortitude; and no means of alleviating it may be employed. It may be broken up by the breaking up of the whole Method, and a return to the world without. This cowardice not only destroys the value of all that has gone before, but destroys the value of the Oath of Fealty that thou hast sworn, and makes thy Will a mockery to men and gods.

Concerning the Deceptions of the Devil. Note well that in this state of dryness a thousand seductions will lure thee away; also a thousand means of breaking thine oath in spirit without breaking it in letter. Against this thou mayst repeat the words of thine oath aloud again and again until the temptation be overcome.

Also the devil will represent to thee that it were much better for this operation that thou do thus and thus, and seek to affright thee by fears for thy health or thy reason. Or he may send against thee visions worse than madness.

Against all this there is but one remedy, the Discipline of thine Oath. So then thou shalt go through ceremonies meaningless and hideous to thee, and blaspheme shalt thou against thy Deity and curse Him. And this mattereth little, for it is not thou, so be that thou adhere to the Letter of thine Obligation. For thy Spiritual Sight is closed, and to trust it is to be led unto the precipice, and hurled therefrom.

Further of this matter. Now also subtler than all these terrors are the Illusions of Success. For one instant's {WEH NOTE: Magick in Theory and Practice has "But one instant's..."} self-satisfaction or Expansion of thy Spirit, especially in this state of dryness, and thou art lost. For thou mayst attain the False Union with the Demon himself. Beware also of even the pride which rises from having resisted the temptations.

But so many and so subtle are the wiles of Choronzon that the whole world could not contain their enumeration.

The answer to one and all is the persistence in the literal fulfilment of the routine. Beware, then, last, of that devil {49} who shall whisper in thine ear that the letter killeth, but the spirit giveth life, and answer: Except a corn of wheat fall into the ground, and die, it abideth alone, but if it die, it bringeth forth much fruit.

Yet shalt thou also beware of disputation with the devil, and pride in the cleverness of thine answers to him. Therefore, if thou hast not lost the power of silence, let it be first and last employed against him.

Concerning the Enflaming of the Heart. Now learn that thy methods are dry, one and all. Intellectual exercises, moral exercises, they are not Love. Yet as a man, rubbing two dry sticks together for long, suddenly found a spark, so also from time to time will true love leap unasked into thy mediation. Yet this shall die and be reborn again and again. It may be that thou hast no tinder near. In the end shall come suddenly a great flame and a devouring, and burn thee utterly.

Now of these sparks, and of these splutterings of flame, and of these beginnings of the Infinite Fire, thou shalt thus be aware. For the sparks thy heart shall leap up, and thy ceremony or meditation or toil shall seem of a sudden to go of its own will; and for the little flames this shall be increased in volume and intensity; and for the beginnings of the Infinite Fire thy ceremony shall be caught up unto ravishing song, and thy meditation shall be ecstasy, and thy toil shall be a delight exceeding all pleasure thou hast ever known.

And of the Great Flame that answereth thee it may not be spoken; for therein is the End of this Magick Art of Devotion.

Considerations with regard to the use of symbols. It is to be noted that persons of powerful imagination, will, and intelligence have no need of these material symbols. There have been certain saints who are capable of love for an idea as such without it being otherwise than degraded by "idolising" it, to use this word in its true sense. Thus one may be impassioned of beauty, without even the need of so small a concretion of it as "The beauty of Apollo", the "beauty of roses", the "beauty of Attis". Such persons are rare; it may be doubted whether Plato himself attained to any vision of absolute beauty without attaching to it material objects in the first place. A second class is able to contemplate ideals through this veil; a third class need a double veil, and cannot think of the beauty of a rose without a rose before them. For such is this Method of most use; yet let them know that there is this danger therein, that they may mistake the gross body of the symbol for the idea made concrete thereby.

Considerations of further danger to those not purged of material thought. Let it be remembered that in the nature of the love itself is danger. The lust of the satyr for the nymph is indeed of the same nature as the affinity of Quicklime for water on the one hand, and of love of Ab for Ama on the other; so also is the triad Osiris, Isis, Horus like that of a horse, mare, foal, and of red, blue, purple. And this is the foundation of Correspondences.

But it were false to say "Horus is a foal" or "Horus is purple". One may say: "Horus resembles a foal in this respect, that he is the offspring of two complementary beings".

Further of this matter. So also many have said truly that all is one, and falsely that since earth is That One, and ocean is That One, therefore earth is ocean. Unto Him good is illusion, and evil is illusion; therefore good is evil. By this fallacy of logic are many men destroyed.

Moreover, there are those who take the image for the God; as who should say, my heart is in Tiphereth, and an Adeptus is in Tiphereth; I am therefore an adept. And in this practice the worst danger is this, that the love which is its weapon should fail in one of two ways.

First, if the love lack any quality of love, so long is it not ideal love. For it is written of the Perfected One: "There is no member of my body which is not the member of some god." Therefore let not the Philosophus despise any form of love, but harmonise all. As it is written: Liber LXV, 32. "So therefore Perfection abideth not in the Pinnacles or in the Foundation, but in the harmony of One with all."

Second, if any part of this love exceed, there is disease therein. As, in the love of Othello for Desdemona, love's jealousy overcame love's tenderness, so may it be in this love of a particular Deity. And this is more likely, since in this divine love no element may be omitted.

It is by virtue of this completeness that no human love may in any way attain to more than to foreshadow a little part thereof.

Concerning Mortifications. These are not necessary to this method. On the contrary, they may destroy the concentration, as counter-irritants to, and so alleviations of, the supreme mortification which is the Absence of the Deity invoked.

Yet as in mortal love arises a distaste for food, or a pleasure in things naturally painful, this perversion should be endured and allowed to take its course. Yet not to the interference with natural bodily health, whereby the instrument of the soul might be impaired. And concerning sacrifices for love's sake, they are natural to this Method, and right.

But concerning voluntary privations and tortures, without use save as against the devotee, they are generally not natural to healthy natures, and wrong. For they are selfish. To scourge one's self serves not one's master; yet to deny one's self bread that one's child may have cake is the act of a true mother.

~ Aleister Crowley ~

She had left shortly after arriving and without much explanation, only to return to me again just two weeks later, and with far more urgency than the first time. For she had sustained an injury and arrived with a bleeding wound at her side, to which she clutched often with many wincings and with a pronounced little limp in her gait.

She is frightened. That much I can see.. for she did not know what to expect from her very first attempt at conjuring a Spirit from the Dead. And this, despite my warnings to come to the table without harboring hypocrisy.


There is a price to pay as well, though we shall not discuss it just yet, even though I urged her to enter into bargaining with the Spirit of the witch board.

"I will give my own life!" She cried out into the eerie silence. Deep down it made me smile.. for I myself had offered the same. And both times.. it is refused. Why? Why, you ask? The answer is simple...

It is because the moment you have placed your fingers to the planchette and dared to play the Game.. you have already given yourself over to Me. And now, I demand something even greater from you as a sacrifice.

This is the Book of Uniting Himself to a particular Deity by devotion.

Considerations before the Threshold. First concerning the choice of a particular Deity. This matter is of no import, sobeit that thou choose one suited to thine own highest nature. Howsoever, this method is not so suitable for gods austere as Saturn, or intellectual as Thoth. But for such deities as in themselves partake in anywise of love it is a perfect mode.

"Taltos! Enemy of my enemy.. hear me! Lend me your ear! No.. come to me! Together we can be One and defeat the one who would usurp you.. and use me to do so. Hear me! Pay heed to my words and come! Join with me!"


Bryony de Rose. Just a girl with a sword, really. And secrets, too. I can see them in her eyes. Most people are not aware that their darkest secrets are all too often so easily yielded up through their eyes.. and yet that is the chief witness of everything hidden away, every last crime committed.

People will only flock to a soothesayer out of their own human weakness and flaw, driven by either Lust or Greed or Revenge. Or perhaps all three. I could smell the stench of Revenge in Bryony.. I could see it in her eyes, though she denied any selfish bone in her body. It was only for this Taltos and his benefit that she sought me out. Taltos.. who had been dead more than two hundred years, and doubtless cares two figs for those who've sprung up in his wake in their mortal pettiness.

It was not until her fingers joined my own above the circling planchette, that her desperation invoked the Spirit of the witch board. I urged her to call to him. Forcefully and with authority, for Spirits are not incited by the meek who cower in low self-esteem.

And it was then that she made connection, and her secrets came tumbling out. For the Spirit addressed her: "LIAR!!" It is not for Taltos' benefit that she seeks to conjure him from the Dead.. but for her own gain. Bryony de Rose wants revenge. If that were not the case, she would have sought out this Taltos from the Dead long before she got herself into trouble with his supposed Enemy.

The Mystery of Selflessness, be it known.. is Self.

A woman comes. And with her, an Army.

Perhaps a strange thing it was for the cat to say, though her words are rarely audible to the human ear. Astarté has been a constant mainstay around my home even since before Alexandra's departure into the Afterlife. I heard her plain as day though. A woman would soon arrive, and with an army as well.


"Astarte, go and see who has come calling." This I commanded her before continuing on my way home again, for I had collected all the Witches' Moss beneath the stones that I needed for the day, and I never intend to linger when dusk is close at hand.

Let me correct the details of her report. It was not merely a woman who was coming, but a warrioress.

"Did you ask her whether she was friend or foe?"

No.

"Well.. why not?"

But Astarte decided she had no more to say on the subject.. and simply walked away.

"Coward," I called to her after she had vanished somewhere in my house.

Within minutes even, there was a knock upon my door and a boistrous call from the opposite side, "Is someone there? I have come a long ways to speak with you."

I did not call back as I slowly dropped the dried and withered Frankincense Tears to steep in the kettle of hot water, whispering what I knew to be true already: "You've come for far more than a friendly conversation."

Another loud knock resounded, this time with more desperation. "I need your help and I am willing to pay! Will you open the door?"

Frankincense Tears is the principle herb most often burned in the fire for rites such as purification or consecration, also proved potent in rites of protection and even exorcism. But today.. we shall drink. When I did alas open my door to the stranger, I glanced briefly past her, "You and.. your army?" Half expecting to see an army, I was. But there was none.. merely a woman and her horse.

"My.. my army? I brought no army, Sir. Are you hiding from one?"

"Everyone harbors an enemy." And with that, the door slammed shut behind her and bolted itself as the iron latch fell into place. It is best not to tempt the Gloumenwood past dusk.

The Mystery of Change, be it known.. is Stability.

The years have passed. Twenty-five in all since my dear Alexandra's departure into the Afterlife. There is not a day gone by that I have not mourned her. For I miss her still, even now. And I shall not love another the way that I loved her.