Pythagoras the Mathemagician

by Karim El Koussa

  At seeing him walking out, Pythagoras asked in surprise, “How about you?”

  Sonchis halted for few seconds as if astounded by the question then turned to him slowly. “What about me?”

  “Aren’t you joining us?”

  The Priest hooked him with his intense look as he marched back to him with his small, quick steps. “Pythagoras, the Phoenician. My Initiation has been achieved long ago. I’m the High Priest of the Great Temple of Osiris.”

  Pythagoras gasped and gawked at the holy man.

  “The servants should be here the moment I leave for they are not allowed to see my face.” At that, Sonchis bowed his head slightly, turned on his heels and disappeared behind the doors of the big hall.

  Pythagoras ignored how much time elapsed before he felt the presence of the servants behind him. He shook off his dismay and turned towards the servants. Wordless, they gestured him to follow them. He abided without further ado. Resolute, he marched behind them and towards the first phase of his Egyptian Initiation. As Sonchis has just informed him, the meditation and purification chambers awaited him.

  * * *

  Ten nights later, Pythagoras paced back and forth the great hall of the Solar Arch. He halted, glanced at the door then resumed his pacing again. He had been anticipating that moment since the very first day of his abstention period. His fretfulness finally ended at the appearance of two men of particular attire. Of similar mid stature, they looked oddly alike with their tanned skin, impassive faces, trimmed eyebrows and large black eyes outlined with blue tint. Long turbans, of green and yellow stripes, covered their heads all the way down to their shoulders. At their waist, a thick leather belt held their only piece of clothing; a colorful skirt that reached their ankles. Other than that, heavy jewelry adorned their bared chests and arms.

  Dispassionate and silent, they bowed their heads at Pythagoras. Guessing that they had come for him, he hastened in their direction, and continued his way past them. They caught up with him halfway through the narrow alley leading to an ancient gate. Could it be that of mysteries? There, he cut his vehemence short and waited for them to open his way in. They did, looking astounded by his eagerness.

  A semi-dark vestibule, partially lit by some torches on the walls received them in its cold smell of confinement. They continued through a rocky path. Pythagoras glanced curiously on both sides at the weird statues of human bodies with animal heads. He discerned among them some lions, bulls and serpents. Reaching the end of the path, he halted when the peculiar assistants did. There in front of him rested a skeleton on a bier; an uncanny mummy standing at its side. They must symbolize death and immortality respectively, he levied inwardly.

  Always wordless, his escorts pointed at a dark aperture in the wall. It was large enough to constitute the entry of a tunnel, yet not sufficiently so to permit an easy access through it without crawling. Confused, Pythagoras hesitated for a moment in which he tried to assess the path ahead.

  A dry voice broke the stillness, “You can still forget all about it,” the assistant on his left suggested with a hint of caution. “The door behind you is still opened. You can walk back.”

  A moment of quiet coldness ensued. A moment of weighty reflection elapsed.

  Pythagoras inhaled deeply, lifted his chin up, shrunk his eyes on the hole and, with all the willpower he felt within, he enjoined, “No! I’m in!”

  “Very well then,” the other guide replied evenly, yet Pythagoras perceived a pitch of admiration in his icy voice. “You are on your own now,” he warned him as he handed him his torch. “Go ahead!” He snapped, veered on his heels and strolled away with his friend without another word.

  The sinister sound of the door closing behind them resonated through the rocky hall. A feeling of dread and excitement overtook Pythagoras at this moment in which he faced the inevitable unknown. He walked back to scrutinize once again the walls around him, the statues, the skeleton and the mummy, then stood still in front of the locked entry door.

  That is it then! So, let’s do it! He cracked out with finality.

  He marched decisively to the entry of the tunnel and bent on his knees to peer in.

  Excitement flooded through his veins. The corner of his mouth lifted into a smile known only to those readying for a battle whose victory they have secured.

  The Temple of Mysteries waited for him.

  Head first, he crouched his body, elevated a knee then the other and pulled himself inside the tunnel. He crept through with caution. An acute odor of cavernous moist and ancient soil wafted to him. Cold accentuated as he progressed on his hands and knees. He heeded the sound of his robe tearing at his shoulders and knees before he felt the scouring ache on his skin.

  He continued.

  The narrow tunnel lengthened to a point where he almost doubted the reality of what might, or might not, lay ahead!

  He sweated profusely.

  Air flattened around him. Oxygen exhausted from his lungs. By necessity, he stretched down on the ground and heaved his body forward with the aid of his arms; an inch at a time… He crept through with much trouble. Unexpectedly, the tunnel widened, just enough to reinstate his hope. He lifted himself on his knees and dragged his torch to look ahead. It seemed an endless way, but that did not sorely try his inmost dedication, so he clambered farther and farther, continuing his way through.

  The humidity he sensed after a while intensified. He came in contact with the squashy texture of mud that turned thicker and thicker as he advanced. He halted and squeezed himself in a sitting position. He needed to rest, to stretch his legs and to ease his constricted muscles.

  He breathed with difficulty.

  He deemed wiser to carry on, instead of lingering there, where the air lacked in a precarious way. The thought of being buried alive made him quiver in panic, yet he prompted to control his weakness.

  More determined than ever, he went back to his endless crawling. And crawl he did, faster and faster, striving to conquer that underground adversity. His mind calculated the time at which he had first entered through that hole.

  Almost an hour! I think it has been almost an hour!

  At that particular moment of fretful awareness, he reached the periphery of a large aperture. Finally! His soul screamed in victory. He pushed himself to break out of that calvary. His hope was short lived. He lost ground, flew in the air, and crashed painfully on a hard marble floor.

  He strove to catch his breath, sweating heavily from terror. He looked around him then burst into a nervous laughter. Evaluating quickly the terrible experience, he deducted that he had just overcome the difficult trial of the Earth element!

  He stared up at the aperture of the tunnel he had just conquered and, shaking off the upshot of his dreadful crash, he took control of himself, leaping to his feet.

  He knew that more tests awaited him. With renewed stamina, minutes later, he followed the only long alley that stretched in front of him to the right until he reached a barricade of progressive burning fire.

  He froze.

  Am I really supposed to cross this huge door of fire? How?!

  His wits labored for a plausible solution. He frowned, searching his mind, thinking, deliberating… He shook his head. Impossible! His heart yelled in revolt. He leaned on the rocky wall; his eyes furious on the fire. After a while, he slouched to the cold floor, closed his eyes and tilted his head back. He breathed slowly and deeply to control his emotions and master his fears.

  Do not feel the fear of the fire! Try! Try…! Try to overcome it! His inner voice wafted then insisted on the words that echoed deep into his central realm.

  Do not feel the fear of the fire… Try to overcome it!

  He snapped his eyes open, probed for a hidden message on the rocky ceiling, shrank his eyes in concentration, then slowly stood up on his feet and approached the fire, closer and closer.

  He froze.

  Impossible! He muttered and his laughter resonated in the narrow path. An illusion! It is but
an illusion!

  Relief embraced him in its gentle strength. His mind appraised the fire for a while. He realized the visual hoax fabricated by the Egyptian Hierophants as part of this unusual system of trials.

  Not wishing to loiter any longer, he gathered all his energy and, in one swift movement, launched his body through. He attained the safety of a chamber and veered to glare at the element of Fire he had just conquered.

  He grinned.

  Yet, he had no time to relish in his victory. The earth cracked under his feet and he glided into the darkness.

  An abyss… Death!

  Terror burst out from his mouth in the form of a baleful scream that echoed behind him. He held tight to his torch as if his life depended on it.

  Quick! Quick! His mind urged him for a solution.

  What solution? His heart rebelled in despair and accelerated its beats that pounded horribly to his ears. This could not be another trick of the Egyptians! That was real! The blast vacuumed him further and further down to a point of no return.

  Pythagoras tightened his eyes close. He breathed deeply. Forcefully, he strove to disregard the potent sensations around and inside him. He focused his mind on his body.

  He controlled.

  He mastered.

  He exerted all his physical power and snapped his eyes open. His hands and feet hurled out in blind search for any solid contact that might come as a plank of salvation. Nothing! He heaved himself to swerve in the air, changing his point of vision. He saw it then; an aperture to his left! In a supernatural effort, new to him, he summoned all the energy left in his being and leaped.

  His feet touched ground. Tears of triumph streamed down his face. His muscles released at once their previous spasm. He slumped to the ground. At this very moment, he just wanted to forget all about the tension he had just endured.

  He stretched down right there on the cold ground, and closed his eyes. He sought for self-control, breathing deeply and slowly. He fixed his thoughts on one particular point in the back of his mind, the vision of a flame, that of the torch in his hand. It was still lit despite it all.

  Tranquility started to engulf his body. His clarity of thoughts came back to him. Only then did he allow himself to return to the reality around him. He murmured, “The element of Air! Of course, I just overcame the trial of the Air element!”

  His joy lasted only for a few seconds for as he stood up and took a few steps to the left, a powerful heave jerked him into a new chasm to dart him, in shock, in a body of water. Depth sucked him down. Total haziness encircled him. But he could feel the water. He was drowning!

  He fought.

  The element of Water launched a war against his life. He held his breath to propel his body upward. He lifted his eyes in quest of the light of hope. Darkness above weakened his courage, yet his determination to survive dispatched him further up and to the surface. He emerged, inhaled the air that lacked in his lungs, coughed forcefully, then breathed again and almost yelled. He swerved on himself quickly, sensing the potent presence of a danger. Then he heard a powerful movement in the water, he could not discern what it was. However, a soft blaze in the surroundings revealed parts of them. He saw them then, on the water of what appeared to be a lake, those horrible reptiles that could devour him mercilessly; Crocodiles!

  The fierce reptiles surely saw him first for they spurted in his direction. Horror paralyzed him. No! His mind urged him to master his fear. He darted his body forward and, without releasing his now extinct torch, he swam for his life. A sudden current yanked him down. He sank for few seconds then hauled his body upwards. He launched himself toward the surface. He swam with the strength of despair to a ridge that he could barely see.

  His limbs started to give in to exhaustion. His movements lost their speed. His breathing rhythm decreased. His face went under water. He was about to surrender when his hand touched the solidity of ground. He lifted his head above the surface of the water and roared in relief. Safety!

  He dragged himself up the muddy ridge and sprawled onto the ground.

  Water element, I got you! His heart shouted in triumph. He ducked the wooden base of his torch in the mud as a sign of victory, and snapped out loud, “I got you indeed!”

  Pythagoras, his favorite purple tunic all dirty and torn, lay on his back with an amazing feeling of relief. He worked on catching his breath; panting in delight at having succeeded the ordeal of the water element. His tears mingled with the water on his face. Gradually, exhaustion took hold of him but he did not allow nature to take over and drift him into the comfort of greatly needed rest.

  On the contrary, in the midst of confusion that swallowed his mind for a while, his eyes browsed around, in angst, then riveted on the lake in front of him. The muddle in his mind cleared off steadily. All the hardships of his recent tests seemed to have completely vanished. He straightened up into a sitting position and undertook a calm assessment of what he had undergone. A sense of triumph, new to him, invigorated him when he realized that he had succeeded the tests. He had certainly controlled the four elements; the passive and the active ones!

  Pythagoras fathomed the extent of his success. He acknowledged the four qualities and importance of these four elements; dryness integrated in the Earth, heat in the Fire, humidity in the Air and coldness in the Water. By means of their characters, the elements would either act upon each other, or would be acted on; thus their active or passive values.

  Pythagoras recalled the lecture of his teacher, Thales, on the subject.

  “According to the strength and degree of their motion, active elements impress a definite and precise character upon the passive elements. Thus, the active elements are the Fire that is basically connected with intuition and energy, and the Air that is associated to the mental realm and to the communication ability. Eventually, the passive elements, by their inactive qualities, receive the impressions of the active ones. Thus the passive elements are the Water that relates mainly to feelings, and the Earth that is linked to caution, patience and practicality.”

  Pythagoras envisioned his Master, Thales, conveying this knowledge to him. The thought infused him with a renewed determination to overcome the imminent challenge ahead. His eyes explored the darkness. There was a soft glow nearby. A small sphere of light shaped a narrow stairway in the shadows. His hands searched the sand around him for his torch. He went on his knees, his hands frantic in quest. Yes! He murmured the moment he touched the wooden handgrip and then leaped to his feet. His steps leaden still by the exertions of the recent trials, he forced himself towards the stairs.

  The spiral steps, cut into the rocks, led him to a round gallery. There, beautiful effigies stood magnificently lit with torches on their sides. He lifted his own, edged it to the flames of the first statue, and waited for the fire to dry the moist out. Prudently, his eyes roamed around then halted with curiosity at some symbolic frescos brilliantly painted on the walls.

  His torch finally ignited. He stepped back and elevated his light to examine the fresco.

  “Welcome to the Gallery,” the voice of a tenor bashed the silence.

  Pythagoras startled and veered swiftly.

  There in front of him stood a tall man in weird attires. His yellowish beard reached his chest as did his hair. His large robe of burgundy velvet matched the peculiar turban around his head. What attracted Pythagoras the most was the contrast of those small amber eyes with the dark skin of the man. A Magician! He amazed secretly.

  “Welcome to the Gallery, and Congratulations!” The Magician finally said; his eyes witty. “You have succeeded the tests of the four elements. You have just earned your access into my world!”

  Pythagoras nodded in thanks, unable still to find his words.

  The Magician smirked, knowingly, as if mocking him. “I’m the Guardian of the Sacred Symbols,” he declared with his arms widely opened in a theatrical manner. His amber eyes shone.

  “I… I am Pythagoras from-”

  “Yes, yes
I know,” he interrupted him with a dismissal gesture of his heavily jeweled hand. “Come on, let’s move on!”

  In spite of his blunt ways, the tone of his voice was amiable. Pythagoras guessed that he would have to get used to the frank manners of his new teacher. He dashed behind him.

  The Guardian walked with him by the frescos. He showed him the numbers, and the letters of the Alphabet, written under each one of the twenty-two paintings.

  “These twenty-two letters represent the Alphabet of the Occult Doctrine; the absolute principles,” he explained in a serious tone. “They are the secret keys of the universe. Should you comprehend their esoteric meanings, and learn to use them by will, you shall be able to obtain wisdom and power.”

  The Magician waited for a reaction from Pythagoras. It came in the form of a simple nod of understanding.

  He answered the silent reply with certain humor, “Very well, then. Let’s proceed! These secret keys, the 22 letters of the Sacred Alphabet, are divided as follows: Three letters stand for the three elements of Fire, Water and Earth. The fourth, the Air element, is so unique. The Ancients consider it as the link and the primary mover of the other three elements, thus it is not included herein.”

  He stopped at that to inquire with inquisitive eyes, “Are you following me, son?”

  “Not quite…” Pythagoras answered with bewilderment showing on his face. “Why Air is considered to be so particularly above all other elements that it should not be represented in a letter of the Sacred Alphabet, while it should, I think.” He continued in good humor tinted with defiance. The subject had grabbed all his attention.

  “A good observation, son, but heed me. Air is like the spirit, a mover of things. When it moves, it moves from all directions. None of the other elements can do that. My fellow Egyptian priests have long learned from our god Thoth that in the beginning there was a Primal Wind, Air, in the form of a breath of mist and darkness. There was also Môt, the formless Primal Mud, the primordial form of Earth. The Primal Wind fertilized itself and became Rûah, Spirit, while Môt became the Cosmic Egg. The cosmos was born when Rûah opened the Cosmic Egg, and this eventually led to a separation of the Elements.”