The Canticles Of Damiana Evohe

Volume VIII

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! Vesica Ordo Templi Solus Noir !

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The Canticles Of Damiana Evohe

Volume VIII

Further To The Whisperings Of

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Na’amah Golden thread around heart entwined Visage of palest gold bleached by blood Darkest barb venom sweet Vision of light shadowed by blood moon Step by step the pageant unfolds Embrace melt into rapture Dissolve into bliss denied Pale golden one a kiss upon thy brow A caress upon breast of softest silk Entwine limbs slick with sweat Heat dissolves flesh Breath dissolves thought Passion dissolves the heart Union dissolves life Blood flows from wounds deep as time Semen rises caught in a cup of softest velvet between golden thighs Breath quickens and dissolves in rapture sweet Breath stills in the velvet shroud of darkest midnight Cascading thought tumbles into oblivion, servant of time Na’amah golden one mistress of time servant of none Shapes born of desire replace the tapestry of life Life bows to death her master Through silven forests does she dance beneath pale Hecate Loose thy arrows desolate one pierce flesh spent in passion Golden nectar flows through limbs broken Darkest venom courses through veins burned upon thy pyre One kiss granted benediction One kiss denied eternal longing Reflection dark shadows arise a mist of amber stained blood red Lightning burns eyes long weary Thunder subdues heart quenched in fire Gaze deep into the mirror of thy mind Draw deeply from the well of thy heart Broken vessel leaking blood into sand unheeding Once a garden pure where innocence was born

Leaf and stem embraced in love Once an earth mother to her children Cradled in loving arms Once starlight dissolved the vacuum of space A thousand angels voices arched in ecstasy Once life pierced the veil of time The tapestry woven thread by thread Across the mountains of the moon did we walk my love and i Taking our rest within the vale of Aphrodite Into the boundary lands did we step Upon a plain of golden sand the bones of all who went before Beneath our sun we walk ebon rays shining forth Dissolving all that has been and will be Creation unmade upon the plain of truth unfolding Namrael fairest maiden Samael desolate one Hand in hand each step a drop of blood released upon the aethyrs And in the last of days Two grigori walk upon the earth And they shall die

Yglas Na’amah Yglas Isheth Yglas Ygrat

Yglas Lilitu Ben Grigori

Evohe Evohe Evohe

Ast Innui Khephri Vos

Ahdi Ypres Grigori

Selim Ast Nobilis

Khephren Ma Un Nefer Ast

Portus Lucis Noir

Ave

Astarte vel Berylli

Cycle 1 1990 – 1992ev The Dawn Of The Avatar

In this way did we manifest Samael, principal Grigori amongst the legions of the living. Bereft of his bride, tormented beyond the ability to conceive did he complete the initial tasks, reaching their culmination in the words of The Witness, our seeding into the world of what was to follow. Cycle 2 2003 – 2004ev Namrael

The manifestation of our Grigori sister

In this way did we complete the preparations and placed our avatars within the temple of our working.

Cycle 3 2006 – 2007ev Lilith Rising

The Portal Of The Black Sun

Entering our sacred triangle of power did Samael and Namrael conjoined invoke beloved Lilith and complete the cycle of our making, to manifest the portal and let its rays shine forth. Trinity 2009ev

We wove the matrix of our spells and seeded them into the prime elements of nature, extending our Triangle Of Arte. The Fulfillment of the final Grigori Prophecy 2010ev

Liber 131 – The Passion & The Purity

!"#$%&µ !&'())&µ !"µ"*)

Solve Et Coagula

The ancient land of Khem, basking on the shores of the Nile celebrated its dignity in its many arts and gave rise to traditions that exist to this day. We refer primarily to its manifestation of the magickal current informing many traditions and its application of The Arte of Khem, sometimes called Al – Khem – y and it is to the latter that we draw upon the principle, Solve Et Coagula, As Above So Below In The Matter Of The One Substance.

The cult, Khephren Ma Un Nefer Ast rose within the dynastic period and its adepts, though few transformed base material into philosophical gold and thereby ascended into the aethyrs of immortality. Aspirants, selected from regal stock were taken into the desert fastness and into the temple were they inducted. Mortality levels were high for the process they passed through required that they die to the world as commonly perceived. The ingestion of a rare seed was central to the rite. The pith rendered them physically inert whilst the kernel induced profound visions and between these states they existed. Months would pass and the ensuing result was twofold. Either death would ensue or in the

rarest of instances the toxin would be transmuted from venom into elixir. Those who expired sacrificed their energy to the cult and from this the myth of vampyre evolved.

The dull mirror that is memory recalls this time and event and did but die within its embrace, for in the matter of the one substance is thy heart drained, to the last drop and upon the altar of benediction is it burned. The vapour that rises becomes as smoke that serves as thy prayer and upon the aethyrs is it cast to wander. Death greets thee or into the fire thou art confirmed to be transformed, purged of thy mortality and ascend upon pinions of light to dance between the moments that are inhabited by all that lives, breathes and has being.

And upon the altar was the hideous beast consigned and from its ashes did rise the Grigori that dwelt at its heart and into the embrace of eternity was it delivered. In rare moments when silence greets the moment thou might hear its whispers and in the still centre of thine heart may its vision of rapture dawn upon the reflection that is life and blessed be that moment when all is cast aside and that which remains is as The One Substance that resides in the cup of our holy lady.

Death And Life

Long ago was the battle fought and won

When life and death stood upon opposing shores

And glimpsed each other

Death looked upon life and smiled

Whilst life like a maiden shy

Upon her bed of roses

Coyly looked aside

The Chalice Of Dreams

… … … Octave Two Dreamzone One – A portal of azure upon a landscape of emerald undulations. Each heartbeat a ripple upon the surface of this liquidity. Amorphous shapes shifting, focusing, dissolving as the mind in quest of meaning releases, permits, contains. Each breath travels to the surface of the skin, travels outwards, contacts not I, as a shifting focus, superimposed upon a liquid shoreline. Incandescence, light, beyond the ability to see. Sound ripples upon the surface of that I know as I. Landscape dissolves, for now it is the surface of skin. Ripples, undulating, inform the process of dissolution, finally reaching outward beyond all I am able to hold. Silence. A void, lustrous, dark and welcoming, velvet softness, as I move through layer upon layer of amorphous, shifting

perspectives. Yet I focus upon form, angularity arises as I greet another portal that casts me into a deeper dream.

Octave Nine Dreamzone Two – Memory rises, acts as a lure that draws me onwards and outwards. Memory of what I have been, what I would become. Thought echoes outwards, shape and texture arise yet serve as metaphor for a time and place of true dissolution. Each heartbeat thunders across galaxies, each breath the kindling of starborn existence. Each thought shapes itself, fleshes itself into that which I might choose to describe. I gaze into nothingness from which I take form and description. I stand upon the path which is the polarity of time, one gateway, an observer conceiving of what will be, another witnessing what has been. As lord of time I arc through the ages, accelerating beyond the realm of sight and sense, until I finally merge with the totality of all that was, that is and will be. The name of this dreamzone, eternity, infinity and the wellspring of creation. And as I gaze into the lustrous waters of this reflection, I am stilled, completed yet again and from this place, this time, perceive another, who stands before me regal yet humble, blessed by knowledge, yet wrapped in a mantle of humility, wise with the wisdom that stems from witnessing the passage of eternity, the passage of stars.

Octave Thirteen Dreamzone Three

And from this time, from this place and with this one, I enter the dream of dreams and walk amongst the shadow beings that surround me, yet know me not. One mask is affixed, then another, yet another. Within the conceptions that arise, a memory of all that I have seen, all that I have witnessed. Ionthe guides me, makes deep and rich

the tapestry that unfolds before my senses. Azrael counsels me in the matter of adopting singularity. The earth supports and nurtures me. The stars beckon and cherish me, as again I walk forth a stranger in a strange land. Greeted by others I enter their worlds, sometimes as friend, sometimes as foe. My path, my vision burning brightly, a lambent flame, continuous, evolving. I but a molecule within the body of our holy lady, seeking the ecstasy that lies within life, extracted from the crude material of existence. I walk this world complete, and offer greeting, and in passing, utter a simple word: adieu… … …

Liber Sigillum Vel Daath – 1996ev

The Sword Of Damocles

Corrige Praeteritum Rege Praesens Cerne Futurum

Correct The Past Direct The Present Detect The Future

amael Grigori

I speak to thee, yes thou who art writing these words and even unto thee who in turn reads these words, from the Boundary Lands I speak. Cast aside all that thou art, for i seek naught that is of thee, from thee, your form but dissolves in my presence. Your Mind, the Reflection which thou art clouds over. The Heart which thou seekest, empties itself into the eternity which thou art. I accept All of this and more, I take only that which is freely given. I grant

naught in return, for what in truth would thou, creature of Earth do with such, you alive in your world, I in mine. Yet still you seek me. Look into your world, does not nature, my fairest sister stir from her slumbers, casting aside her mantle of repose. See you not the lifeblood stirring within her heart. The bounty of her body giving rise to the eternal cycle of Life and Death.

Liber 131 – March 2 1992ev

The Staff Of Discordia

… … … Hail Eris Principia Discordia

For the purifying of nitrogen, quicksilver and fire Diana will appear without a robe. And had that exotic fruit been granted unto Artemis, what then of strife? Order arises, a stain upon the purity of the Prinum Mobile. A demiurgos bereft of spirit cast forth upon aethyrs blindly questing meaning. Had those virgin lips drawn forth honeyed venom, into whose chalice might fire have arisen? What vision would bless eyes weary of deceit? Azoth Et Ignis Dealbando Latonam Veniet Sine Veste Diana. Unto thee Beauty incarnate is the apple of discord granted eternally… … …

Innui Khephri Vos Nox Solus Noir Cephalos Un Nefer Ast Adhi Ypres Est Daemon Rhammus Ben Grigori

Na’amah Selim Ast Nobilis Amor Yglas Lilitu Ben Grigori Dei Khephren Ma Un Nefer Ast Iota Portus Lucis Noir Nefer Ypres Namrael Evohe Samael Grigori

In the velvet folds of midnight embraced by earth and star he stretches upward. Lightning bruises eyes keen of sight, thunder shakes his heart, the toll of midnights bell.

He yet slumbers beneath a mount of shale, residue of travail eternal. Seals that once formed his flesh open and the spell unfolds.

By hand and eye was it cast upon the aethyrs to bear witness to the time ahead. The blind one was he once called, the better to serve his purpose. Purpose revealed in the unfolding prophecies of days yet to be.

Incarnadine vapour stains the moment in passing, reveals memory lost down eternal corridors of time. Columns of bleached stone raise themselves from the desert of bones he now walks, solitary.

A pyre of burning memories replaces the moment and coalesces into liquid flame that laps at the shore of remembrance.

The Vault Of Proserpine

The Overworld cast its shadow and sent its reflection into the Underworld where brooding Hades did behold the darkness that was his domain and from his eternal solitude did he conceive a scheme.

The Midworld, Eden, wherein the innocent were raised and Demeter, mistress of all that she surveyed gazed upon her daughter lovingly for time had evolved perfection which now shone at its heart. Innocent Proserpine lying within the embrace of earth and sky did dream and of that dream a voice whispered into her heart. Rising she stepped forward and the now perceived escarpment opened before her. Entering the mists she swooned and upon waking did she find herself within the embrace of darkness. The brooding lord took her into his embrace and with but a single kiss did he claim her as his.

Demeter did seek her absent daughter and her heart was turned to ice in her failing efforts and Eden knew winter. Yet hope did rise from the night of time and Proserpine was granted her freedom, albeit temporarily, for summer would yet bask in the field on night.

Eden knew despair and its purity became stained as lost innocence informed The Field Of Dreams and the Vale Of Tears did rise from its heart and became the arena wherein life unfolds. Divided, day became as night and night as day. Light became as shadow and shadow became the light of dawning consciousness and its reflections sundered the aethyrs.

Proserpine enters her vault and therein her life, divided, becomes as day and night, summer and winter, light and darkness. Hades, his scheme now fulfilled embraces his reluctant beloved but briefly and upon the tapestry formed of his blood and tears does he yet know repose.

Unity sundered becomes duality that reflects life and death and the time of the immortals passes into oblivion only to be a distant and cherished memory.

Drink deeply from the cup that is thy life and celebrate for darkness awaits thee.

The Blessing Of Pandora

Benedictus

Ambrosium Per Lapis Lazuli

! Benedictus qui venit in nomine Domine !

… … … Blessed be they who walk in thy name. Thrice blessed be they whose rapture calls forth thy radiance, long may the mirror of their minds reflect the purity of thy presence and in the banquet hall of thy body may the ambrosia that serves as thy essence sustain the hungered. May the wine that is thy blood quench the thirst that rages across time and may the vision of the lapis lazuli inform the hearts and minds of thy avatars who stride the vale of the blind ones.

Blessed be the fruits of thy labour and from the womb of light that surrounds thee distil the nectar that inspires the eternal ones to rise from their slumbers, cast aside the somnambulance, the thrall that has blinded eyes and heart, denied the joy that is thine alone to grant and written upon brows bent beneath the yoke of servitude the ashen cypher of death.

Blessed be the night of time wherein the ancients scribed upon parchment of life the axiomata of thy becoming. Scribed the angelus, the archons and vesicas who step forth from shadows deep and dispense justice in thy holy name. Light ineffable radiates from a core of liquid gold, creases the darkness and folds memory into its embrace.

Blessed be the womb of space where life, cast upon an exotic shore dances beneath the rays of brave Artemis and sends forth rapture as silven darts and in whose outstretched hands the avatars dance in eternity.

Blessed be… … ... Requiem Aeternam VII – 2012ev

Grigori

Introduction

Our task in essence simple. To create a cohesive understanding within the minds of our readers. Simple enough and yet the Selim defy the normal constructs of presentation. Do we explore the tapestry of human history, woven into the threads of which you might detect our presence? Perhaps religion may cast a light on our existence, hardly. Superstition and fear inform the nature of this unholy pursuit? Perhaps psychology, though in its infancy may reveal us in the light of reason? And yet we defy definition, for as a mystery do we walk amongst you. Creatures of shadow, Night Walkers.

No, We will cast our tale into the realms of fiction in the knowledge that the unbelievable stripped of the chains of truth may transcend understanding and stand revealed in its pristine nature, for it is not to your reason that we appeal. Rather to the dark side of your natures wherein the seeds of our existence were sown long aeons ago. The human species, divers in its form, prolific in its numbers and gifted with free will and the choice to manifest in beauty and in horror. What has in truth been chosen? History past, present and

future attests to the book of wonder etched by your kind. A species gifted with the aspiration of the angelic whilst residing within the realm of the demonic.

To supply a backdrop to our tale we ask that for a moment you consider your own mind and heart. The thoughts, desires, dreams and acts performed through your life and time. Errant whispers cast upon the veil of life and the shapes assumed by such. Your love, beauty and truth. Your anger, hate and its siblings. Where does all of this go? Each and every moment, a creation, a world and life. Multiply this by the numbers of your kind, past, present and future and you will begin to glimpse the how of what we came to be. The Selim we will ever be and as you glimpse the darkness of the light we shed at this time our tale is to be revealed by the one who casts these words upon the mirror of your mind. Sentience exists within a womb of light, a fertile membrane, a mirror upon which all is cast, first a whisper, a shadow and then memory etches a possibility and from this, form arises, abstract, devoid of meaning and yet pregnant with possibility and such possibility it be given, The inventions your hearts and minds have conjured across time, host to our unfolding, our becoming.

Long ago fairest Damiana caught a glimpse of our presence as she lay within her grave of solitude, dreaming. Long, long ago the first of our kind, Pallas cast aside

the veil of her aethyric nature and entered the world of form to take her pleasure and slake her thirst, a thirst eternal for she is but your reflection and knows no boundary or limitation. The tales of Damiana and Pallas we have recounted elsewhere and mention in passing for clarities sake. And now we reflect upon the ones, our lady and her dark lord abroad within the world at this time. The end of days for the portal they have revealed and opened, shines its light upon all through and across time, erasing the stain and lie that has been existence within the realm of slavedom. The Black Sun and its radiation we have also spoken of elsewhere and once again mention for the purpose of continuity within this our tale.

It is to these beings that we dedicate our tale at this time in the knowledge that our service to them is complete.

And in those days it was given unto the false prophets to spread the lie, sow the seeds of doubt, draw aside the veil and reveal the end of days

Solus Noir – The Book Of The Black Sun

To fairest Lilith & her dark lord Samael we issue greetings, love and devotion.

Parthenogenesis

Creation from an ovum without fertilisation

The term in this instance is applied to the fecund nature of the human imagination and the womb structure that is represented as time and space. We say womb structure for we hold the nature of creation to be primarily feminine in nature with the male element being regressive and though functional, secondary within the general scheme. As such the emanations of sexuality in all its manifestations, whether actualised or repressed do indeed take on form, of sorts, within this womb matrix. Parthenogenesis in this respect is to be interpreted as the act of reproduction occurring at the abstract or energetic level where form, initially, is rarefied and is tenuous at best. Fertilisation occurs as a result of repetitious incursions of an intense nature that become as a result a seeding into the womb and the subsequent lifeform is gestated, sometimes over millennia until, in a fashion similar to human biological reproduction a lifeform is birthed into its aethyric matrix and begins to grow and develop. We understand this is a primary feminine aspect and whether the donors are male or female is of little import. And whilst being of a female nature as shape shifters the gender is determined by the context. Examples of incubi and succubi activity attests to the act for when interacting with a female host, the male form is adopted and likewise the contrary is true. Though primarily feeding on the emanations generated by sexual activity there are occasions when direct congress takes place. In this instance in our female form we acquire the physical sperm of our host and in turn deposit this into a female in our male aspect. This is undertaken as an aspect of our Moonchild workings.

During our rarefied state of manifestation, like all purely elemental beings we lack free will or choice as you would call it, though a facsimile is created through time this is a rare event for in the main we form an aspect of the collective mind that your psychologists have stumbled upon. Even rarer is the existence of one of our kind possessing a soul, or to be more accurate a mirror form of one. Across the sea of time only seven have achieved this status, our lady Pallas being the first. In this materialised form are we then truly Night Walkers. Countless aeons are experienced before this becomes an evolutionary possibility for as part of the demiurge we do not conform to the natural processes of creation and as such transcend its mundane laws. Truly miraculous is our nature and though the human species within its fictional speculations has guised us in many shapes throughout history the truth of our existence and nature remains a mystery.

Manifestation

Though known by many, Pallas was her true name, for she, maiden and warrior was consort of Pan, her power to his form. In Roma, mighty bastion of empire basking upon the banks of the Tiber she first drew breath and was worshipped as Amor. Androgynous, her joy and service, sensuality and pleasure. In this guise she slaked her voracious appetite upon the couplings that took place amongst her devotees. Not for her the drinking of mortal blood or the taking of life, her appetites were subtle, refined. She would dwell between the breaths of her devotees, her lovers, wrapped in the passion and the satiation of their desire. In this way was her form sustained.

Time and history unfolded and the male god grew supreme and her devotees grew less in number, yet she continued drinking her fill wherever passion arose between mortals and beast alike. Androgynous and when finally possessed of form she would be able to assume the form of either gender, enabling her to plant seed within the body of a female, and to receive seed from the male, and yet she possessed no corporeal form, as yet. For now, she was continuous and undivided in her energetic form. How had she come into existence? The tales are many, part truth, part fable. In the beginning life had stirred, risen and stretched heavenward on limbs that carried it forward across land and sea. The creator paused and took pride in its work, yet it knew no rest. How would its creatures know of its existence? How would they give worship? For it was a vain and possessive god, given to pride, for it was young, the first of many hurled forth from the creeping chaos that had known no form. First to arise when the primal chaos was banished and the old ones cast aside. Order arose. The time of echoes. It had created a male, the only form it knew, and from this sort to create its mate.

With the males blood and sperm and the life giving breath it granted from itself, woman came to be, a being far more intelligent and able than he who was deemed her lord and master. In her despair she escaped into the desert and took her pleasure

amongst the creatures that lived there, it is said that of her couplings arose the demons of the world. At this time she was known as Lilith, cursed by god yet supreme in her power. Time passed and humans spread across the globe. Seeking new consorts she divided herself into many forms in order to continue and grow in strength and power, for she had purpose. It is in the guise of Pallas that our story begins and now continues to unfold. Her form, insubstantial, her pleasure harvested from the forms of life that had substance. She formed a desire, perhaps her most ambitious? She would take human form and know the sensations of blood, flesh, heat and sweat. Knowing that they passed through life in a fleeting moment, she would await the time when the sea of stars burnishing the night sky would alert her to the presence of the one she sought.

In this manner she would maintain her immortality and also know of earthly existence. She would choose well, for she had a plan, one which would unfold across the millennia. Knowing no boundaries or restrictions, for she had denied the false god and all its workings, and knew freedom. She watched and waited, knowing her time was near, when she would know the sanctuary of flesh.

Pallas – 1998ev

Moonchild

Something born in a moment of time possesses the qualities of that moment in time. Arte Of The Astrologian

In respect of the principle we will approach the subject from two distinct perspectives.

First the magickal concept translated in the Butterfly Net penned by 666. The principle being that were a child to be conceived within the rites of magick and for the gestation period to be surrounded by ritual and the point of nativity calculated then a being of a specific order, a soul if you would have it, would be attracted as by a magnet, the ritual contexts themselves. Giving rise to the brief definition of the astrologers art, as above.

Second and for our immediate purposes the relevant interpretation, connected to the existence of the Selim themselves. Through the sexual and axiomata rites contained within Arte Magicka the principle is put into effect of the creation of Selim over a period of time truncated by will and intent. In this respect the time period following natural laws, so called, would be reduced and Selim could be created within the lifetime of an individual. Whilst this possibility would be demanding upon the principle operators it lies within the realm of possibility to, at the very least, seed a Selim into the womb matrix of time and space. Subjected to accelerated evolution the Selim would consolidate into its abstract and latterly its concrete form relatively quickly. Relatively in this instance means, none the less inconceivable periods of

time for like all immortals Selim age slowly and gracefully. As previously discussed millennia pass during which the incursions upon the womb matrix seed the possibility and with repetition a form is outlined in potential. The Moonchild workings increase the possibility and accelerate the time factor. Consciousness or more specifically self consciousness occurs over a protracted period of time. Self awareness being a rare factor within sentient life forms the arrival at a point determined by free will takes even longer for it presupposes self determinant elements being present in what is primarily an elemental being.

This period serves as the gestation of Selim within the abstract, energetic form where sustained by sexual energy and on rare occasions, the conscious activities of operators of Arte Magicka they gain corporality. Pallas was the first of the kind to take flesh, as it were and co exist simultaneously within both the abstract and manifested forms. To date a relatively small number of Selim have completed the aspect of their evolution which brings them to consciousness and an even smaller number have commenced their own evolutionary path into transformation into their destinies purpose and form. Thousands of years ago in the land of Khem, gifted by power and magick the cult of Khephren Ma Un Nefer Ast raised itself into form and became the principle matrix for Selim upon this world. Consisting of seven life forms sustained by the service of the powers upon which they feed they evolve from the corporate form to commence their evolution into becoming Grigori, a truly rare order of being.

Evolution

Humble origins indeed. A being conceived in the abstract. The by product of sexual emissions intruding upon the womb matrix of time and space. Seeded and upon repetition a singular matrix lain down, as an impression until it latterly takes from, albeit in its abstract energetic form. To evolve, substantiate itself and finally develop the mirror of reflection called free will and with this to evolve further along its path into full corporeal form. Our nature being primarily female we exist in that form only, adopting at times the male form when our host demands this. In this fashion we perform our own Moonchild workings as we, like all beings seek to reproduce our kind. Unlike the human biological method we employ fully abstracted and energetic means to proliferate our species. This undertaking is far from perfection for in many respects it exists outside the laws of nature, so called. We create our own laws in this undertaking alone.

Our tale of Damiana sheds some light on our evasive nature for we all lay within our respective graves reflecting upon how we remain sentient having passed through the boundary lands glyphed as death.

And then death, one velvet dark night had seduced her into his mystery, had come for her whispering gentle endearments into her ever open ears, had lain with her,

entered her and claimed her as his, for was she not beauty indeed? And yet, she was still sentient, not a fleeting spirit adrift upon the night air, not a disembodied soul seeking solace amongst loved ones. Was this her reward, her penance? Had she not served her mistress well, offering blood and semen as votive offerings within the services performed in her name? Had she not offered herself, her flesh, the means of manifestation, where passion is the prayer and lust the means of Invokation? The dark shore of night whereupon, we embark upon a journey from mystery into greater mystery, our blood knowingness our only guide, steers us through dark atavisms and pre-human byways of being, where bestial tongues utter inchoate sounds unto the firmament that hears them not. Hecate’s dark realm, awash with soft murmurings yielding to screams and the torment of tortured souls. She stands triumphant upon the bones of her worshippers, for torment is her service, where pain is but the echo of her yearning, where birth and destruction are the ebb and flow of her breath, fetid with the whisperings of dark mystery. Had she not been promised entry into the realm of the true gods, those who exist outside the night of time?

Pax Nobilis – 1998ev

And yes we began to question as does all sentience. We gazed into the mirror and sought our creators reflection and saw it all around us and became the mirror of our creators work in its unfolding. By this are we tormented for no redemption lay this way for us and so we chose to become something our creator could not conceive of and thus our true evolution unfurled its wings and born upon the rays of the Black Sun do we soar into the unimaginable, invisible, for we cast our veils before us, confound and confuse for that is our need for privacy upon this world, the vale of tears, so called in our own tongue. Possessed of free will and the facsimile of a soul we transcend our humble origins and quest beyond the known and bask upon the shores of the unknown where the inconceivable becomes a possibility. Your human evolution has been slow by contrast for whilst being in possession of the awesome power of imagination you confine this to the realms of idle speculation and remain within your charnel house whilst we soar, products of your very imagination, cast forth upon aethyrs bereft of your form and now these we claim for beneath the rays of our sun, the contrary to your own we bathe this world in black light, light which reveals what is truly there whilst your day star gives rise to the illusory. Your perception moulded by appearance, confounded by your truth and finally immolated upon the pyre of your confusion. And now as Grigori do we rise.

Grigori

Doubtless the erudite will define us according to tradition. A species of watchers cast adrift to witness your unfolding and whilst this tradition speaks a partial truth it also masks our true nature. A nature we have now declared in the surety of our remaining invisible amongst you. One of your kind, gifted with skill and audacity

conceived a simple engine. To treat a single atom of time the way your physicists treated a single atom of matter. Physically they created a cyclotron. A physical mechanism for a physical property. He conceived of a mental construct, as time stems from this dimension, and made it so and over two decades and three primary cycles manifested the avatars that give rise to our presence amongst you.

And now twin pylons to our portal the Black Sun radiates its light across time erasing the stain and lie that has been the servitude of your species. This we have written of extensively elsewhere within the texts named – The Witness, Blood Moon, Blood Rain & The Book Of The Black Sun.

And upon the earth at the end of days There shall be two Grigori And they will die

Namrael 777 & Samael 131

The Selim – A Tale Of Night Walkers 2008ev

Axiomata Per Grigori

Nemesis Ikonographika manifests at this time as a consequence of an Arte Magickal working undertaken and completed over a twenty year period of time, as measured, and serves as a secondary portal. The primary portal being Solus Noir and its current manifestation as Ordo Templi Solus Noir.

De Arte Magicka consummate with the methodology of rite and axiomata has left in its wake an application both magickal and aesthetic. The rite has opened an ingress point or portal onto a wellspring of creativity wherein the current becomes manifest in word, sigil, graphik and image.

This path has been undertaken by others notably Austin Osman Spare and his development of The

Alphabet Of Desire. Andrew D. Chumbley, the brave soul who inherited the voice of the current and was an inspiration to many. Kenneth J. Grant who as a consequence of the workings within the New Isis Lodge revealed The Typhonian Tradition and To Mega Therion who set the wheels in motion. To these Adepts we owe a debt of gratitude.

In practical terms Talismanic Books & Arte Graphika have become the primary means by which the current we attend is manifested.

It is a given that the creative spirit would wish to share their creations with others deemed to be of similar mind and whilst this is, in part, true our primary directive lies in another direction, namely –

And In Those Days It Was Given Unto The False Prophets

To Spread The Lie Sow The Seed Of Doubt

Draw Aside The Veil And Reveal The End Of Days

As such our work continues to manifest.

Arachne

… … … She stirs from her slumbers, gazes into the void. Her form now diffuse, mist upon the lattice of her web. The echoes travelling to her inform her that her work is all but done. Only one last act to perform. And with the passing of her final breath she emits a song of joy and enters dissolution, the final dream. Her essence released, she enters creations mantle and dreams within the heart of her children, silent, unseen, unknown. Only eternity knows of her presence and with a sigh, it too enters dissolution and the time of dreams… … …

The Quadra – Chapter 0 – The Second Becoming 1996ev

The first of the echoes cast the matrix upon the slumbering aethyrs and condensed the luminaries that adorned its now shining form and amidst the chaos did she weave the first of her spells upon the eternal night. As she wove did her body dissolve into her creation and where once chaos ruled now the star bedecked sky shone along the conduits of her creation. The constellations, now ordered unfolded their tapestry across the night sky and the ancient tales began to unfold.

Twelve constellations formed the matrix of her now slumbering form and her heart finally dissolved and its life became the web upon which all is suspended. The fates evolved and drew the thread and cast it upon the field of sentience that evolved as a consequence. The thirteenth, invisible and unknown formed the books of life and death, etched in gold and ebon mists upon the now evolving day.

Light banished darkness and from the cauldron the elixir was distilled and infused the web with its presence and consciousness evolved and the time of making began. Principalities arose and claimed ascendancy and memory, now a distant echo evolved life and cast it upon the mirror of divine reflection.

The stars whispered across the fastness of time and space and the gods dawned. The demiurgos rose and cast its creation into the field which became life.

Slumbering Arachne yet dreams and of her dreams time etched itself into the matrix wherein all is now consumed. Celebrate, thou who art become as brave souls as her vision unfolds before thy now jaded senses

.

Bast Un Nefer Ast

And before the time of the great sacrilege when the body of Asar was once again sundered by the coming of the Aten the fair city of Bubastis celebrated its ascendancy within the sacred land of Khem.

Enfleshed as warrior maiden did she dance triumphant upon the bodies of the vanquished, slaking her thirst upon the unjust and during her sacred rites was the Blood Moon invoked and from its heart a golden rain did fall stained red by the earth it touched.

Within the orbs of her golden eyes tears did rise and as they fell the heavens trembled at the passing of the golden age as the lower kingdoms rose from the slime of insentience and upon shaking legs marched across the blessed globe and cursed all that they beheld. From the

holiest of shrines was she cast down into the dust and as her tears moistened her ashen shrine demons rose and were cast into the world to sow the seeds of destruction.

Bast Un Nefer Ast raise again thy pylons unto the heavens. Cast down the usurper and rain down thy benediction, thy justice. Molten ash issues from the fissures of history, fold upon undulating fold courses its way across a landscape rendered barren and greets the embrace of ocean whereupon it is quenched and from the solidity rise the pylons of times past and memory etched in lambent light invokes the old ones who roused from their slumbers once again cast the spells of dreams and whisper to the hearts of the noble.

Noble Bubastis rises from the sands of erased memory and as the golden eyes of the blessed one shine in triumph does the dust of the ages consigned to the furnace become as the tears of the victorious who dwell within the fabled city. Lammae Rouge conjuncts the radiance of Solus Noir and conjoined are its rays sent forth, erasing the stain of servitude and as history basks beneath its blessing the venom sent forth becomes an elixir and from the font that rises from the heart a prayer is cast upon the aethyrs.

Bast Un Nefer Ast.

Ave Ave Ave

Nemesis

I

Long had it been here, yet of its origins, none could tell. At night beneath the stars its cry was heard rising upwards from the depths of the earth. Only when radiant Diana traversed the firmament was its voice still and at ease. At this time it slumbered, dreamed and waited. Waited for the time of Ascension, for it had been left behind. Buried far beneath the surface of this barren world, to witness the passing of Aeons, awaiting the moment, when it would dream no more.

Born of chaos, a cipher of yearning and redemption, of shadows and the time before the echoes began. It stood witness, mute and unreconciled. Of companions it had known but one, one it dreamed of often, and of the time it had been left here, abandoned, to witness the passing of aeons in lonely isolation. Its purpose uncertain, its only certainty, the loneliness it keenly felt, increasing with the passing of each moment, moments etched upon the fabric of its soul. Yes it had a soul, for it was the very first of things to emerge from the void, during the time when the echoes began and Magick was sent forth to work its wonder and mystery. By day it

mused, for its memory was intact despite the immense passage of time it had been here, here within the corrosive fields of form, form it had been denied more than once and yet it existed, a twilight state of consciousness. At night it sang to itself, a doleful song more reminiscent of tears than the elevation of the spirit normally associated with this act. Only on nights when pale Diana wove her way through the tapestry of night spangled stars did it know rest, did it dream rapturously, know repose, devoid of memory, loss and yearning.

Before the time of its abandonment, in the first days of its memories it had known freedom. When upon emerging from the void it had coursed through the firmament, alighting here and there on its quest for learning and fulfilment. For it was a spirit of curiosity and had the power to make flesh its desires. Long aeons had it traversed the void in this way, witnessing the passage of time and the events that unfolded. Its greatest joy was to witness the violent turbulence within the gaseous fields out of which the stars themselves emerged. In its passing it had witnessed the first of these to be born and doubtless would witness the last. Alighting on new worlds it took delight in the unfolding ecology, first the flora, from the lichens through to the majesty of arboreal forms, then latterly, after what seemed an age the fauna, first crawling forth from fecund marsh and pool until finally gaining ascendancy upon pinions that carried it forward and onward into its tremulous future. At this point

it would leave in search of new wonders to behold, leaving little if any trace of its presence upon the world it now left. Its curiosity was insatiable and its memories, each and every one of them it held to its breast, lovingly and completely, savouring each tiny morsel, each nuance and possibility, for its imagination was boundless. It learned simple things, the passage of comets across the void, the star clouds and their turbulence, the play of light across tree tops, the movement of water and the reflections it carried. Of the sentient lifeforms that rose into Self Consciousness it knew little, for of these it was afraid, not for itself but for the force and destiny it perceived in them. A destiny it had witnessed more than once, as life unfolding turned upon its axis and returned to the void from whence it came, such splendour, such possibilities completed in but a moment, a gasp within a womb of light which then returned to shadows and the dark time. Though it is true it had no form of its own, it had skills, amongst these were its shape shifting abilities. As it alighted upon worlds it would assume a passing shape, sometimes held for the duration of its stay, sometimes the first in a series that it would adopt over the course of time. It was reluctant to assume these shapes, for with the assumption of each new form it lost its ability to remember what it was in itself, as the cascade of multiple forms assailed its ever diminishing sense of self. Some shapes it remembered more than others, one which delighted it immensely was the time it had spent an entire season amidst a canopy of green, noticing only the cycle of light, wind and moisture until finally falling one day to the valley floor beneath. Also the time it spent coursing across the heavens, its pinions unfurled to the breeze, carrying it aloft upon thermal currents, at this time it knew the being of a predator, eyes alert for the slightest movement below and then the joy of the hunt and kill, when it would gorge itself on flesh, fur and blood. Or the times it met with Death in one guise or another, as a light beam burning up within its own ecstasy, as a meal for another, and then it remembered the time when it to had fed upon the lives of others. As a passing thought, more felt than cognitive when it would experience its blooming, its seeding and demise in the passing of a breath. All this and more it had known and would continue to know, for even death held no dominion over it. And yet of its true form it had little if any recollection and for this reason it could be heard, in the depths of its sorrow, casting a plaintive song upon the air, meeting ears that knew it not.

II

And what of now, buried beneath the surface of this barren world? How had it come to this? How after an eternity of freedom was it in this place and time? It did not know, all it knew was now and the memories that haunted it and left in their wake bitter sweet torment. Yet in its dreams it sort the means of achieving its freedom, for it knew it was a prisoner, why else the incarceration, the pressure, the continuous darkness, unrelieved by even a moment of light, of hope? And in its

dreams it travelled, took shape and form out of the very aethyr itself, and with this form it sought escape. Once it dreamed of a pale creature, Damiana by name, who like it lay within an earthen grave, awaiting freedom. And what of her story? In this form it had been enraptured and tutored in the ways of the flesh, once and once only did it know of this, for it had been captivated and as a result captured within the flux of passion, something it could not resist. This had been its only human form for it shunned sentient life that had developed the sin of self awareness. An awareness that acid like stripped the soul of its simplicity and innocence. Yet before the time of its incarceration it had occasionally visited mortals within their dreams, whispering words of vision and delight into their hazy and bemused minds, for it would warn, would protect where it perceived the light of hope and beauty and would seek to nurture this. Had this been its error? This, that it now suffered far beneath its burden of clay? And yet with an inner awareness, born of hope, it knew its time here was short and with this knowledge, this certainty it came to a new sense of contentment and peace. A peace, a noble peace, which it would cherish long after its release, for this would come. So now it waited and witnessed, alone in the dark. Its being a testimonial of all that unfolded, a cipher, a whisper upon the breeze, gossamer thin and sensitive. What of the one who had left it here? Abandoned it to its fate and incarceration? Where was that one now? Musing within halls of splendour, one, alone and undivided, for its cipher had proven itself a curse. A curse it now banished, had banished millennia ago, it thought little upon the fate of this one for it was not given to thought. For it had churned the ocean of the void and had little thought for, what was to it the nameless abomination that had first stirred and taken its freedom flight into mystery, this abortion was not of its nature nor of its choosing. Long aeons it had pursued this evasive creature, which turned and twisted with each encounter. In the early days it had a fondness for its waywardness but this soon turned to tedium and it would have no more of it. Banish it, incarcerate it where it could do little if any further harm. Such was its justice, such was its sentence, inviolate and final. No compassion, forgiveness or understanding for these were qualities unknown to it. And so it sang its plaintive song, alone and unredeemed, casting its cry upon the aethyrs, dreaming of the time of its release from this curse that held it bound within its soul.

And then the dark time, when it was permitted rest, to dream and pass beyond its prison walls and upon the wings of perception once more take flight. Its soft body now bound by flesh and feather, alight upon the air, it falters, falls to the ground far beneath it and rests, its heart beating fiercely within its breast, the sun beating remorselessly upon its exposed body. She appears a being clothed in light, lithe and youthful, a dance within each of her steps, a sparkle of life within her tender eyes. Pauses, sees the small creature beneath her, stoops down to cup it in gentle hands,

holds it to her breast, breathes life into it and holds it aloft. This but a passing moment and yet in this time it knew love, a passing memory now carried, now cherished as onward and upwards it courses, remembering the one who held it tenderly for but a brief time.

Would it know love again? Would it share in the delight of belonging? Would it care and be cared for? This it doubted for it knew itself to be alien, to be different, shunned, taking but brief anaesthetic moments of release within the forms it borrowed. Forms which held it tenuously for a season and then no more. In the time of echoes it had known turbulence and pain, the birth pangs of form emerging from the void to bear witness to the passing of time. At first the echoes had been gentle, stirring the strings of form with the force of a concentrated will, that in its dreams had formulated it, coaxed it into becoming and finally upon its release had cursed it for an abomination. It, the first of things denied its heritage, its form, to be cast adrift and denied, this was its pain, its penance, its curse. Yet it sought retribution, would deny where it had been denied, would escape the unrelenting hatred it felt from its creator, it the very first of things, noble, true and loving within its nature, a loving now, by the alchemy of time had turned to vitriol, which in burning its flesh, burnt that which it touched. This its promise to all that lived and knew form. It would oppose, it would witness, awaiting the day of freedom. In its heart of hearts it took unto itself a name, a name it would share with none.

III

On a night of storms did it feel its burden lift, the earth encasing it, move, as grain by grain, memory by memory it shed its curse. It had been redeemed. The memories, the forms that bound it cascaded from it like water crashing downwards to a pool far below. It spiralled, unfurled and uttered its name for the very first time, and for the last. And as the echo, for it was now of that order, was sent forth, it burst into a column of light, ascended and as a witness, contained history’s passing along the length of its now immense form, rising upwards, ever upwards into the heavens and passing downwards into the caverns deep within this world of form. Thus was the Lord of Light reborn upon the plane of life. And how had it been released, redeemed, it, that had only known of the dark these long aeons? By she who had once tenderly stooped and picked it up from the unyielding earth, permitting its wings to unfurl and finally allowing it take flight. It was she who down the ages, taking one mortal form, then another and another until, in this time she was again reborn. She was its protector and had awaited its arrival within her awareness. Many times she had believed its location and discovery were close, only to be disappointed, time and time again. And then she had heard its cry, so reminiscent of something, something she could not recall. As always, in this life she was kind and gentle and on the nights of Diana she prayed to her beneath the stars, her throat drawn tight in the rapture of prayer, her body a cipher of supplication, of yearning and longing. Her voice

uplifted by desire called forth the lady of night who in her mercy answered her in dreams, visions and the stirrings of memory. Preparations were to be of the simplest, yet elegant. The night appointed, a night when the mystic trine was formed between the huntress, the thief and the lord of the void. Upon this night sheaved in a gown of water spun silk, she steps into the night air, her body anointed with jasmine and rose, around her sigils of protection, of power and invokation dance. She climbs the rise, the breeze carrying night scents and the perfume of her own body to her sharpening senses. Arriving at the crest of the hill, pausing, looking skywards, stars sparkle acting as a backdrop to the sickle in their midst. She places the sigils of power and invokation at the cardinal points. North, the sigil of manifestation. South, the sigil of power. East, the sigil of spirit. West, the sigil of form. Above, the sigil of eternity, below, the sigil of the moment. They formulate and dance finally come to rest, blazing upon the aethyrs in the form of the diamond body. Next the sigils of protection are placed within the triangle of body, heart and mind. The triangle begins to spin and spiral within the diamond, interlocking until finally forming a nine pointed star, the star of Diana herself.

Then did the aethyrs stir, a rainbow bridge is formed and along its path history unfolds and at each point where the axis point vibrates with the presence, the form of the one she seeks, a word is uttered, a simple word, for she alone knows its name. With each repetition the night air vibrates and is made rich with the perfumes of orange blossom and almond, mixed with the tang of oceanic depths and the vacuum of space. One hundred and thirty one times does she call its name, sending forth her breath, her life and essence into the void. Silence. Out of silence a crack of lightning rends the sky, the earth beneath vibrates with thunder that rolls like a leviathan across the landscape. The earth beneath her opens and a column of light rises and she is caught within its rising and enters its heart, a still centre within the raging storm. In this way did she join her lord and lover, granting it form and gender of its own for she was its power and in their dance of union were they united and now go forth upon the earth from ecstasy to ecstasy through the tapestry of appearance.

PanSophia

I Lucis Ignis Dei

The first echo arises, plucked from the void. A column of light illuminating the darkness of eternity with its plasma burst. Extends, diffuses into the shadows of eternal night. Unfolds its thoughts, creates reflections of itself. Stars bask within its supernal luminosity. It knows itself not, only its reflections cast shadows upon its countenance. Withdraws, contains itself, achieves critical mass, implodes. Shards of light travel outwards, fusing, melding and finally a cataclysm. Light manifests as energy, its matrix. Reverberates, creating heat, informing the cold, dark void of its presence, atoms dance within its thermal resonance. Fire arises, the light of consciousness, a whisper within

a womb of light.

Beholds itself, a shadow being of light emitting sparks, coruscating down bright corridors of becoming. Fuses with the immensity of the ocean and dreams of another. A means of definition, of differentiation. To create a matrix, its energy to another’s form. As the power of life it moves ever inwards, spiraling to the core of silence, its origin and outwards to all things, its destiny. In the larva flow of its being conceives of a form and enters it.

Burning brightly, flame red and gold to the darkness beyond. Heat at its core, frost at its surface it moves towards the light that draws it ever closer, its source. It beholds its former self, wrapped in the sackcloth of memory. Alighting upon a cliff face, carved out of the aethyr itself, rests and beholds the vista before it. A barrenness that it would fill, yet in its dark mood, its dark nature it broods. It, the creator would create another to know itself.

II Aqua Bella Mater

Precipitation, moisture, the ocean roils as the plasma hits, first the surface, laced with a filigree of light. Penetrating to the cold depths of incalculable mystery below. Meets ice. Movement, as the plasma, crackling with the ice and moisture that surrounds it, threatens to engulf it, finally yields. The first of many meetings that will unfold through time. The eternal sky god, lord of the lightning flash meeting his consort within the icy depths of oceans embrace. Within their embrace they cavort and of their contortions, each yielding but a little to the other, ice melts, plasma diffuses. And of their embrace arises a heat, warmth that rises to the surface as

bubbles of light, breaks the surface as a spume of golden light and the first of things is released and given the name Nemesis. Takes its freedom flight and is seen no more.

Many arose from their union, the time of echoes was unfolding, would continue to unfold through the long aeons ahead. Deity now reflected upon another and in the appearance of duality, knew itself completed. Yet it was a generous being and would grant life, multiple forms through which it could witness itself, and into each of its forms it signs its name. In the signing lay the hope of realisation, that its creatures might know of their source. This its compassion, this its female form. For as substance, it could only exist in its female form, for as lord of the lightning’s it could only devour its offspring. No nurturing, no protection or love could it offer, for these were properties unknown to it. And in this way was the marriage between the elements of the prima mater consummated.

III Aethyr Congressus Cum Daemon

And the first of things, Nemesis, came into being. Borne aloft upon the pinions of dreams did it fly through ecstasy upon ecstasy. Its substance the very air itself through which it also passed, at its heart a lightning bolt of golden hue and upon its surface the ice of its mother, in fusion a mist of golden light presaged its arrival and the perfume of oceans depth and the endless infinity of the star spangled void. Lord of light was its assumed name, for it knew no other. This would suffice. It would be the very lifeblood and soul of all that followed during the unfolding of days. Would inspire and bring to freedom each of the sentient forms that were yet to come into being. Adonai in the palace of the heart. Nemesis within the citadel of its mind. Lord of light, bright Lucifer, herald of the dawn, lord of the world. Its consort it would seek and of their union creation would continue to unfold and in the union with its bride would it bring life to lifelessness.

IV The Bride of Adonai

In the brightness of the void lay one of beauty, slumbering within the velvet embrace of eternal night. Whispers of promise blooming within her heart. A smile upon her pale lips. Lips awaiting a kiss, whereon life would dawn. And in her slumbers she dreams deeply and of her dreams a mist arises, violet and gold. A symphony of celestial joy, as another echo reverberates along the corridors of eternity. Her body dances, held aloft within the embrace of space and from her womb, time arises. For she is fertile, mother to all form, daughter of the infinite depths of ocean and of the sky lord, her consort. Now she rises and embraces the air itself, suffused with a radiance of golden light, he, her lover and consort created to fulfill creations dream.

00 The Nexus or Fifth Element

The four watch towers established within the void, their sentinels alert, the four echoes reverberating through the dimensions of time and space. A tower of lightning illuminating the eternal night with its incandescence. One of oceanic blue and green casting its reflections into the void. Another of golden aethyr, a lattice of light and wraithlike form . And finally one of opal, its hues oscillating with the splendour of nature’s unfolding. Fusion takes place and the dance begins anew. Each tower radiating its essence into the void, chromatically meeting at the nexus point. A symphony of sound, the crack of lightning’s blast, the deep susurration of ocean’s depths, the rush of zephyrs ecstasy, the hearts beat of the bride. And at the point of union the spiral of life’s song begins to unfold its tale to eternity, its witness.

0 The Second Becoming

She stirs from her slumbers, gazes into the void. Her form now diffuse, mist upon the lattice of her web. The echoes travelling to her inform her that her work is all but done. Only one last act to perform. And with the passing of her final breath she emits a song of joy and enters dissolution, the final dream. Her essence released, she enters creations mantle and dreams within the heart of her children, silent, unseen, unknown. Only eternity knows of her presence and with a sigh, it too enters dissolution and the time of dreams.

The Quadra – 1996ev

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