by Mike Crowson
Standing in the anteroom Millicent could smell the incense and it took her back to her early childhood in Northern Ireland, before they'd been forced to come to Bradford. Her mother had been a Catholic, but once they'd been obliged to come to England, she hadn't gone to church again. All the same, it was a pleasant scent and it took her back to the strife-torn streets of Belfast, the religious bigotry and the racial tension that had threatened to drive a wedge between her parents.
In the silence of waiting she had nothing to do but think and, though she tried to prepare herself for what was to come, her thoughts were centred on what had passed: her parents had run to Bradford; when she met Carlos in her pre-university gap year in Spain she had been relieved to run to Andelucia; when Carlos had been killed by the ETA car bomb she had run again, leaving her daughter behind in Seville to be brought up by Carlos's parents. Had she run from the army to West Yorkshire police? Undoubtedly - she was running from her 'demons'. She thought that now she would confront them.
Tobias had brought her here - here being a converted church in a Bradford back street. It was a small, stone built former Methodist chapel, a yellowish sandstone, blackened by the grime of years. There was wire mesh over the windows and an air of neglect about the exterior. As N'Dibe had remarked earlier, if you clean it up and make it look prosperous, any building then needs much more spending on security.
Inside, however, there was no air of neglect. There was a small modern kitchen and toilets, changing rooms, a comfortable, carpeted lobby, which was also a meeting place adjoining the hall in which the real business of the order was conducted.
She had waited in the lobby until the group had all entered the main body of the temple. Then she had been allowed into this anteroom and given a plain black robe, tied at the waist with a black cord. The only other person was a similarly dressed man, tall and thin, wearing a collar of office in about three inches wide black material, not quite waist length, with a silver sword insignia about four inches long hanging from it.
"I'm the Guardian," he said, "and strictly speaking I'm supposed to wear a mask until after you've given a pledge of confidentiality. It all looks a bit off-putting to a neophyte and my job isn't threatened by you knowing about my free-time activities, because I'm self-employed anyway, so I don't bother."
He didn't say what he was self-employed as, and Millicent thought it might not be entirely proper to ask him. Nor did the man volunteer his name, and Millicent thought she'd better not ask that either. Apart from that, she remembered the discussion of magical names and mottos from Saturday evening.
Through the door she could hear muffled voices, but she could make out no words. She heard three knocks and then a series of words and knocks.
"They've opened," the Guardian said. "In a moment I have to blindfold you. It's partly because you're not supposed see other members until you've taken a pledge of confidentiality and partly because the blindfold itself and the act of ritually removing ritually removing it are symbolic, but I won't spoil it by telling you what they're symbolic of."
The door opened a crack, a female voice whispered "Ready!" and the door closed. The Guardian knocked, and the door opened.
"Whom have you there?" the same female voice demanded clearly.
"An aspirant in the darkness seeks the light," the Guardian said.
"Wait while I report to the Soror Initiator."
The door closed and the Guardian tied a blindfold over Millicent's eyes.
"There is a symbolism connected with this," he said, "but personally I think the custom probably goes back to a time and place when it was dangerous to belong to a group such as ours, and members protected themselves from a newcomer until they were certain of him or her."
Millicent heard the door open and she felt her arm grasped firmly. She walked through the door, into the main hall and immediately felt the difference. In part it was the lack of light and in part it was the scent of incense, but it was more than that. There was a tension in the atmosphere, as if she was surrounded by 100s of people. Or perhaps 100s of presences.
"Do you vow that within this mystic sphere, you will henceforth lose your name and be known in this temple as Soror Video Omnia Sed Me Coerceo?"
The voice of the sister Initiator was clear and ringing, vibrating around the room. At the same time as she was marvelling at the power and resonance in the voice, she recognised it as Judith's.
"Answer, I do," whispered her guide.
"I do," Millicent said.
"Why do you come here?" the Initiator asked.
Her guide answered, aloud and firmly, "I inhabit a world of ignorence and darkness: I seek the light."
A different voice, which Millicent recognised as that of Tobias N'Dibe, boomed from somewhere in the same direction, "Un-purified and un-consecrated you cannot enter our Sacred Hall."
"Lead the aspirant around the hall to the West," said the Initiator.
Millicent felt herself led by her guide, probably in an elongated circle: she walked slowly preceded by a faint metallic sound - the censor no doubt, because the scent of incense was strong.
Suddenly, the circuit hardly begun, she was stopped. Someone traced a sign on her forehead. She thought the design was a triangle, but she wasn't sure.
A voice said, "You are purified by Earth," and the slow walk continued.
She was stopped again and Millicent felt a draft of air in her face. A different voice said, "You are purified by Air." and again the slow perambulation continued.
She was halted a third time and Millicent could feel the warmth of a lamp, or possibly a candle, close to her face. She thought it might be tracing another triangle. "You are purified by fire," a voice said
The slow perambulation continued. The silence was heavy, the atmosphere alive and electric. She wondered how large the room was, for they seemed to have been walking forever.
Again she was stopped and a triangle was traced on her forehead with water. A fourth different voice said, "You are purified with water."
Millicent's guide turned her round and she lost all sense of direction.
"Let us pray to the Creator," the Initiator said. "Let the Aspirant kneel."
"There is a kneeling stool just in front of you," the guide whispered. Millicent felt around for it and was helped to her knees.
The voice of the Initiator rang out: "Lord of the Universe and Creator of all, ruler of Light and Darkness! Look with favour on this Aspirant who now kneels before Thee. Grant Thine aid unto the higher aspirations of her soul, so that she may prove a true and faithful Soror Neophyte. To the glory of Thine Ineffable Name. Amen."
"An obligation is now required of you," said the initiator, "for all details of membership and meetings membership and some of what we teach is confidential. Understand, however, that in that obligation there is nothing contrary to, or subversive of, your civil, religious or moral duties. Are you willing to take that obligation?"
There was no prompt, no pressure, only an expectant silence, into which Millicent said, "I am."
Then you will remain kneeling, hold this volume of the sacred law in your left hand, place your right hand upon it; state your several names at length and say after me. I ..."
"I, Millicent Kathleen Hampshire ..."
"In the Presence of the Lord of the Universe ..."
"In the Presence of the Lord of the Universe ..."
"Who eternally creates and sustains all reality ... "
"Who eternally creates and sustains all reality ... "
"Who works in silence within..."
"Who works in silence within..."
"And of this Hall of Neophytes ... "
"And of this Hall of Neophytes ... "
Millicent pledged to keep confidential the names of the members of the group in all lawful circumstances, not to abuse any knowledge she gained from her studies within the order or to use her knowledge for evil purposes, to respect all religions without exception and to maintain a kindly and benevolent attitude towards all ot
her seekers of the Light.
Finally, the Initiator continued, "I solemnly promise not to flaunt or parade ... any knowledge I may acquire ... to those who are not ... true seekers of the Light."
"I swear to observe all these things ... without evasion ... equivocation ... or mental reservation of any kind."
There didn't seem to Millicent to be anything unreasonable in the pledge she had given, or anything with which she could have the least difficulty. She remembered reading somewhere that Alistair Crowley wrote that 'They swore me to secrecy with terrible oaths and then taught me the Hebrew alphabet". Was that just an excuse to himself? There were no terrible oaths here just a pledge of fidelity to things which were reasonable and high-minded. Her thoughts were interrupted by the voice of the Initiator."
"Arise, Neophyte of the Order."
Millicent got to her feet.
"What do you seek?"
"Answer Light", whispered the guide.
"Light!" Millicent repeated.
"The path is long, but the dawn is breaking in the East. Let the neophyte see the first light of dawn."
The guide released her arm and Millicent felt somebody unfasten the blindfold.
It was dimly lit in the hall. Several candles gave an illumination and two larger flames, in sconces high in the walls, gave some light. The temple room or hall (or whatever its proper name) was not as vast as she had thought while blindfolded. At each side of the hall, midway along the wall, there was a robed figure with a different coloured robe beneath a plain black cloak, seated behind a small table on which was a lamp. On a dais at one end, behind what she assumed was the initiator, for she recognised Judith, there were three additional figures, austere and remote, one of which was Tobias N'Dibe. In all there were perhaps a 15 or so people present. Millicent wondered who had paid for all this.
N'Dibe stepped forward slightly and said: "Inheritor of a dying world, we call thee to the living beauty. Wanderer in the wild darkness, we call thee to the gentle light. Long hast thou dwelt in darkness - quit the Night and seek the Day! Follow your conductor and step out onto the path that leads to light."
With that the ceremony continued with more perambulation; walking slowly along a path which was in her own mind, but real nevertheless, like the path along which N'Dibe had led her in the remote viewing session. Remote viewing! It was only four days previously, but it now seemed very remote indeed.
Part of Millicent knew that she had hardly started the difficult task of controlling her own psychism and of releasing the personal demons that had driven her ever since the death of Carlos. Before that probably. The threats which had forced the family to leave Belfast, the hatred of her kin towards a mixed marriage, mixed in more senses than one, had hounded her mother to death. For the first time she recognised that Carlos had provided no more than a brief but beautiful respite from what lurked below the surface of her soul.
"You cannot pass unless you know my name, a robed figure with a black banner was saying,"
"Your name is Darkness," said the Conductor.
"Pass, Seeker of the Light. Pass, for it is morning."
Nevertheless, another part of her reached to great heights and knew that she could find her answers and her peace, control her insights and her visions and bring out the powers within her soul. This might not be, to quote Churchill in circumstances of which he might well have disapproved, the beginning of the end, but it was certainly the end of the beginning.
Mike Crowson – Former teacher, former Secretary of the Green Party in its early days - is an Occult and Esoteric Consultant, offering free and unconditional help for those in genuinely occult or psychic difficulties, based on some 40 years of study and research. He is a Mason, a Rosicrucian and an Adept of the Western Mysteries, and can be found and contacted at: https://www.mikecrowson.co.uk
His books include:
Witchmoor Edge Series:
Witchmoor Edge
On Edge
Outside Edge
Over the Edge
Edgeways On
Female of the Species (Short Stories)
Occult Novels:
The Rings of Poseidon
Only the Darkness
Heat Stroke
The Flag and the Flower
The Riddle and the Key
Wytchmoor Peak
(and ‘Sealed Entrance’ coming shortly)
Parallel Loop (Short Stories)
The first three are available free as .pdf from obooko.
Non-Fiction:
Psychic Lifeline
(Recognizing and Managing Psychic & Occult Harm)
Poetry & Plays
What’s Left for Tomorrow (Poetry)
All This Homework’s Killing Me (Play)
The Poser in the Porsche (Play)