Her Master's Feet
Sunday, August 31, 2008
Astarté, my love. You are my eyes and my ears. The discoverer of secrets whispered when men think they are all alone.


Go thou, and listen to the vain whisperings of a woman while she bathes, for I must know what is dearest to her. Who does she love and protect above all others? For then we shall have something with which to bargain for her debt to me.

Prepare youself for a journey, for we shall gather up to ourselves an Army. The hour of darkness has come. Go, Astarté.

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Alexandra's Room
Friday, August 29, 2008
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.


I am not a healer, nor shall I pretend to be one for a mere glimpse at her nakedness, for I cannot betray my Alexandra that way. Bryony de Rose shall suffer privately, for the most I can give her is an incense of Hyssop sprinkled over the fire that crackles behind the stoney hearth to break the jinx, a handful of Yarrow leaves to pack against her wound, and a tea of Mullein Flowers to aid in restful sleep.

She fooled me for a moment into believing she was Alexandra.. my long lost wife and love of my life. For she lay twined beneath the coverings on Alexandra's bed, dressed in one of my wife's lacy sleeping gowns. And for those fleeting few moments I was caught up in a dream of desire. I want to gather her into my arms and kiss her. Yes.. I want to hear her whispers against my ear, beseeching me to lay with her in nakedness and pleasure.

It was only when I had parted my lips and spoke something to her.. words which I cannot even recall, that Astarté suddenly appeared upon the bed, hissing and growling with feline ferocity. Too, she claimed her stake there, and it was me whom she seemed hell-bent in warding off. Not Bryony.

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The Suppliant
Wednesday, August 27, 2008
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.

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Liber Astarte vel Liber Berylli (Part 1)
Sunday, August 24, 2008
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.


Concerning the prime method of this Magick Art. Let the devotee consider well that although Christ and Osiris be one, yet the former is to be worshipped with Christian, and the latter with Egyptian rites. And this although the rites themselves are ceremonially equivalent. There should, however, be one symbol declaring the transcending of such limitations; and with regard to the Deity also, there should be some one affirmation of his identity both with all other similar gods of other nations, and with the Supreme of whom all are but partial reflections.

Concerning the chief place of devotion. This is the Heart of the Devotee, and should be symbolically represented by that room or spot which he loves best. And the dearest spot therein shall be the shrine of his temple. It is most convenient if this shrine and altar should be sequestered in woods, or in a private grove, or garden. But let it be protected from the profane.

Concerning the Image of the Deity. Let there be an image of the Deity; first because in meditation there is mindfulness induced thereby; and second because a certain power enters and inhabits it by virtue of the ceremonies; or so it is said, and We deny it not. Let this image be the most beautiful and perfect which the devotee is able to procure; or if he be able to paint or to carve the same, it is all the better. As for Deities with whose nature no Image is compatible, let them be worshipped in an empty shrine. Such are Brahma, and Allah. Also some postcaptivity conceptions of Jehovah.

Further concerning the shrine. Let this shrine be furnished approÿriately as to its ornaments, according to the book 777. With ivy and pine-cones, that is to say, for Bacchus, and let lay before him both grapes and wine. So also for Ceres let there be corn, and cakes; or for Diana moon-wort and pale herbs, and pure water. Further it is well to support the shrine with talismans of the planets, signs and elements appropriate. But these should be made according to the right Ingenium of the Philosophus by the light of the Book 777 during the course of his Devotion. It is also well, nevertheless, if a magick circle with the right signs and names be made beforehand.

Concerning the Ceremonies. Let the Philosophus prepare a powerful Invocation of the particular Deity according to his Ingenium. But let it consist of these several parts:

First, an Imprecation, as of a slave unto his Lord.
Second, an Oath, as of a vassal to his Liege.
Third, a Memorial, as of a child to his Parent.
Fourth, an Orison, as of a Priest unto his God.
Fifth, a Colloquy, as of a Brother with his Brother.
Sixth, a Conjuration, as to a Friend with his Friend.
Seventh, a Madrigal, as of a Lover to his Mistress.

And mark well that the first should be of awe, the second of fealty, the third of dependence, the fourth of adoration, the fifth of confidence, the sixth of comradeship, the seventh of passion.

Further concerning the ceremonies. Let then this Invocation be the principal part of an ordered ceremony. And in this ceremony let the Philosophus in no wise neglect the service of a menial. Let him sweep and garnish the place, sprinkling it with water or with wine as is appropriate to the particular Deity, and consecrating it with oil, and with such ritual as may seem him best. And let all be done with intensity and minuteness.

Concerning the period of devotion, and the hours thereof. Let a fixed period be set for the worship; and it is said that the least time is nine days by seven, and the greatest seven years by nine. And concerning the hours, let the Ceremony be performed every day thrice, or at least once, and let the sleep of the Philosophus be broken for some purpose of devotion at least once in every night.

Now to some it may seem best to appoint fixed hours for the ceremony, to others it may seem that the ceremony should be performed as the spirit moves them so to do: for this there is no rule.

Concerning the Robes and Instruments. The Wand and Cup are to be chosen for this Art; never the Sword or Dagger, never the Pantacle, unless that Pantacle chance to be of a nature harmonious. But even so it is best to keep the Wand and Cup, and if one must choose, the Cup.

For the Robes, that of a Philosoÿhus, or that of an Adept Within is most suitable; or, the robe best fitted for the service of the particular Deity, as a bassara for Bacchus, a white robe for Vesta. So also, for Vesta, one might use for instrument the Lamp; or the sickle, for Chronos.

Concerning the Incense and Libations. The incense should follow the nature of the particular Deity; as, mastic for Mercury, dittany for Persephone. Also the libations, as, a decoction of nightshade for Melancholia, or of Indian hemp for Uranus.

Concerning the harmony of the ceremonies. Let all these things be rightly considered, and at length, in language of the utmost beauty at the command of the Philosophus, accompanied, if he has skill, by music, and interwoven, if the particular Deity be jocund, with dancing. And all being carefully prepared and rehearsed, let it be practised daily until it be wholly rhythmical with his aspiration, and as it were, a part of his being.

Concerning the variety of the ceremonies. Now, seeing that every man differeth essentially from every other man, albeit in essence he is identical, let also these ceremonies assert their identity by their diversity. For this reason do We leave much herein to the right Ingenium of the Philosophus.

Concerning the life of the devotee. First, let his way of life be such as is pleasing to the particular Deity. Thus to invoke Neptune, let him go a-fishing; but if Hades, let him not approach the water that is hateful to Him.

Further, concerning the life of the devotee. Let him cut away from his life any act, word, or thought, that is hateful to the particular Deity; as, unchastity in the case of Artemis, evasions in the case of Ares. Besides this, he should avoid all harshness or unkindness of any kind in thought, word, or deed, seeing that above the particular Deity is One in whom all is One. Yet also he may deliberately practise cruelties, where the particular Deity manifests His Love in that manner, as in the case of Kali, and of Pan. And therefore, before the beginning of his period of devotion, let him practise according to the rules of Liber Jugorum.

Further concerning the life of the devotee. Now, as many are fully occupied with their affairs, let it be known that this method is adaptable to the necessities of all.

And We bear witness that this which followeth is the Crux and Quintessence of the whole Method.

First, if he have no Image, let him take anything soever, and consecrate it as an Image of his God. Likewise with his robes and instruments, his suffumigations and libations: for his Robe hath he not a nightdress; for his instrument a walking stick; for his suffumigation a burning match; for his libation a glass of water? But let him consecrate each thing that he useth to the service of that particular Deity, and not profane the same to any other use.

Continuation. Next, concerning his time, if it be short. Let him labour mentally upon his Invocation, concentrating it, and let him perform this Invocation in his heart whenever he hath the leisure. And let him seize eagerly upon every opportunity for this.

~ Aleister Crowley ~

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Let Us Be One!
Saturday, August 23, 2008
"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.

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A Visitor From Afar
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
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.

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Joie Dans la Vie
Monday, August 18, 2008
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.


Twice a year at every Equinox, I have made my sojourn through the Gloumenwood and beyond, to the Village of Eunomia. It is there that I make barter for the planting and the harvest, for the villagers there are a spiritual and a superstitious lot. In return for a fruitful growing season, I am paid an abundant share of their crops come Autumn when I return to collect my bounty.

Now and then the women folk look my way, casting their flirtatious eyes upon me. But I must shun them all, for my heart belongs to Alexandra. And my soul.. to the Spirit Leviathan, my benefactor in whom I have not suffered for want.

The Mystery of Sorrow, be it known.. is Joy.

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Sorcerer's Grimoire
Wednesday, August 13, 2008
The World is now come to Chaos, for I have unleashed the Spirit of Leviathan upon it and ushered in a new era for war and destruction. Let the multitudes come to me for Light and Guidance in these dark times. Let them beseech me for a price; a heavy toll.


In a new book, these are the chronicles that arise out of darkness and chaos. For the old book is sealed in blood and sacrifice.

I am all that I have sought to be. I am wise beyond reproach, all-knowing and omnipotent. I am the bearer of messages and tidings between worlds. I am Warrick the Necromancer, and I am the wielder of Leviathan.. sword of Chaos and Darkness.

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Liber B vel Magi sub Figura I (part 3)
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
Now the grade of a Magister teacheth the Mystery of Sorrow, and the grade of a Magus the Mystery of Change, and the grade of Ipsissimus the Mystery of Selflessness, which is called also the Mystery of Pan.

Let the Magus then contemplate each in turn, raising it to the ultimate power of Infinity. Wherein Sorrow is Joy, and Change is Stability, and Selflessness is Self. For the interplay of the parts hath no action upon the whole. And this contemflation shall be performed not by simple meditation --- how much less then by reason! --- but by the method which shall have been given unto Him in His initiation to the Grade.


Following which method, it shall be easy for Him to combine that trinity from its elements, and further to combine Sat-Chit-Ananda, and Light, Love, Life, three by three into nine that are one, in which meditation success shall be That which was first adumbrated to Him in the grade of Practicus (which reflecteth Mercury into the lowest world) in Liber XXVII, "Here is Nothing under its three forms."

And this is the Opening of the Grade of Ipsissimus, and by the Buddhists it is called the trance Nerodha-Samapatti.

And woe, woe, woe, yea woe, and again woe, woe, woe, unto seven times be His that preacheth not His law to men!

And woe also be unto Him that refuseth the curse of the grade of a Magus, and the burden of the Attainment thereof.

And in the word CHAOS let the book be sealed, yea, let the Book be sealed.

~ Aleister Crowley ~

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Alexandra
Design a platform from which I may come and go freely between worlds. Make its construction of Acacia wood for it symbolizes the afterlife. Cover it completely in the flesh of your sacrifice. And nothing you seek shall be beyond your grasp or command.


There is a village less than half a day's journey from the edge of Gloumenwood where a taxidermist lives, and is purported to be one of the best in his specialization. For my specific request, the coin he asked did not come cheap. And yet it was coin well spent, for my Alexandra shall be with me in my quest for the rest of my days.. until I meet her again in the afterlife.

As for now, my thirst for power shall be sated. And I shall have dominion over any Spirit whom I channel. They shall all bow before the great Necromancer, Warrick the Wise.

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The Last Twilight
Sunday, August 10, 2008
Before Alexandra's eyes had closed in everlasting sleep there was a pleading in them, such as the likes I've never before seen in a pair of human eyes. Pleading and terror, mingled with an exquisite pain. Though my memory of it is sometimes dulled.. perhaps because she did not cry out. Not even a breath of air to betray her, for the Hemlock kept her silent all the while.

Now it was not my intent to abuse her, nor to prolong her suffering in any way. For her sacrifice was already great, and I shall ever hold her dear to my heart because of it. It is not so much her death that appeases the Spirit Leviathan, but the shedding of my dear Alexandra's flesh. It must be taken from her in whole sections while she is yet alive, not tainted in any way by the cyanic tint of budding necrosis.

More than half of her lay flayed before me. And even after I had given her the last breath imparted from my own mouth, I assured her of my undying devotion.

"Alexandra, you are my one and only love. You cannot begin to know how grateful and in your debt I shall always be. No other woman will come after you. None shall ever take your place. Sleep well, my darling."

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Hemlock
Friday, August 8, 2008
One thing I have a true knack for is brewing tea, and knowing just the right blend of chamomille and rose hips.. among a pinch of this and that to cure whatever ailment needs curing. In this, I purposely awaited until my Alexandra complained of an abdominal cramp, a hitch down in her lower belly circumventing her time of the month. I waited. Yes, until she came to me and asked for a good tea to soothe her ache away.

She reclined against me with her head laid to my chest while she sipped at her tea. And oh so slowly she began to succumb to its relaxing effects, until every last muscle down to her fingers and toes had become entirely paralyzed.

I could see the terror in her eyes, though she was unable to blink them at all. Unable to cry out her confusion, even though I did my best to allay her fears by combing my fingers through her hair and whispering to her.

"You must forgive me, my darling wife. I had no choice. Really, I didn't."

For an hour I aided her breathing with a hollow tube I had pushed partway down her throat, imparting my own breath to her every thirty seconds or so.. long enough to complete the ritual before my poor wife was allowed to pass away. Before I gave her one last kiss goodbye.

Only moments before the effects of Poisonous Hemlock wore out of her system, I ceased to share my own breath with her. I watched her slowly vanish away inside her own eyes. She died staring into mine.

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Astarté
Thursday, August 7, 2008
Persuasive creature with her green glowing gaze. She peers down into my soul and knows the hidden things deep inside. Astarté has taken up residence within my home, though I do not know from where she came. Always her eyes are the last thing I see at night, staring down at me while slowly I succumb to drowsy slumber. And always her eyes are there to watch me rouse again come morn.

"I do not care for that cat," Alexandra had been fond of saying before begging me to be rid of the four-legged creature. Many a time I promised her that I would, yet in my procrastination the deed was always put off for tomorrow.. and another tomorrow after that.

The time is near, Magus.

Her voice is different than his, but still the same as both urge me to complete the last task in which our pact might be forever sealed.

"Yes. I know what I must do."

Go thou, and make haste.

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Liber B vel Magi sub Figura I (part 2)
Wednesday, August 6, 2008
With the Wand createth He.

With the Cup preserveth He.

With the Dagger destroyeth He.

With the Coin redeemeth He.



His weapons fulfil the wheel; and on What Axle that turneth is not known unto Him.

From all these actions must He cease before the curse of His Grade is uplifted from Him. Before He attain to that which existeth without Form.

And if at this time He be manifested upon earth as a Man, and therefore is this present writing, let this be His method, that the curse of His grade, and the burden of His attainment, be uplifted from Him.

Let Him beware of abstinence from action. For the curse of His grade is that he must speak Truth, that the Falsehood thereof may enslave the souls of men. Let Him then utter that without Fear, that the Law may be fulfilled. And according to His Original Nature will that law be shapen, so that one may declare gentleness and quietness, being an Hindu; and another fierceness and servility, being a Jew; and yet another ardour and manliness, being an Arab. Yet this matter toucheth the mystery of Incarnation, and is not here to be declared.

~ Aleister Crowley ~
 
Unclean Spirits
Tuesday, August 5, 2008
Leviathan. The principality of utter ruin and the consort of Astarte. It is he whom I have unleashed upon the unsuspecting world, and he who has come to grant me all that I ask. For this was the pact we made, sealed in my beloved Alexandra's warm blood.


He shall never be seen, but his Familiar goes forth as his eyes and ears, and as a servant even unto to me. There is a reason why people fear the black cat above all others of the feline persuasion, and Astarte is proof that their superstitions are not in vain. One look into her mezmerizing green eyes and all skepticism shall vanish.

I was once a skeptic. But never more.

For now it is not I who calls into the Abyss with the witch board, but they who call upon me. I am slowly poured out as a libation until I am fully consumed, and there is no longer any separation between myself and Leviathan.

An army comes. Make ready for the hour is at hand.

 
Paschal Sacrifice
Sunday, August 3, 2008
In the following days I had paced the floors and wrung my hands in anxious fretting. It is one thing to covet. Yet quite another to scoop out one's entire conscience with a blunt instrument that the ravens may peck at it until way past the sun's setting.


Poor Alexandra. I am vexed. I am torn in two. And yet I cannot reverse this great lust to possess that which has been forbidden to men since the dawn of time. It grows inside me with an insatiable hunger, that nothing and no one can fill.

I must consult the board again. For surely I have misunderstood what must be done. It is only when I wrangle with such things that I feel myself pushed by an outside force far more powerful than I am capable of withstanding on my own.

Forgive me.. Alexandra.

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Over the years I have washed my hands a thousand and one times, and still they are stained crimson with her blood. And yet this too, shall pass. For my conscience is laid to rest in a burial chamber with my wife's offal. And none too far from me. But far enough that I am certain not to hear her voice haunting me late at night when I must be about the business of communing with Leviathan, the Spirit of the witch board.