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The concoction brewing in the pot was meant to catalyze my shamanic vision quest. According to Daniel, it was very much unlike the potion Crass had given me. This mixture came from our great-grandfather, Mir, and contained herbs that only grew in Anatolia. The shamans used them in their sacred ceremonies. The herbs would cleanse the body and mind of false perceptions, offering a peek into the timeless world of spirit.
I hoped for a deeper insight that would tie up loose ends and fill the yawning gaps in my understanding. I sensed that vital memories were still missing, significant pieces of the story locked in my unconscious. This was my opportunity to reclaim those obscure parts, unearth old links to a broken chain. Under Grandpa’s tutelage and with his blessing at last, my brother was prepared to guide me. “Maybe it will help me find that harmony the shamans seek to restore,” I said, taking the cup from Daniel’s hands. He smiled. I took a sip and then another. The drink tasted pleasant and lightly sweet, the after flavor hinting of mint and cinnamon. Daniel said that this mixture would relax me while delivering a light rush of energy. I finished the drink and feeling sticky and stained, I excused myself to the shower. Daniel said when I was ready he would take me outside. Standing under the stream, I closed my eyes, steadying myself with my hands on tiles, and watched my mind get swept by a vision. It came in a flash… The inside of the temple was buzzing. Females of all ages were preparing for a visitation. I was among them, arranging flower bouquets. I heard footsteps, turned and saw her—my dearest friend, my mentor and guide—Saneel. She was walking towards me. In her hands, she held a black veil. I stood up and faced her and she put it over my eyes. Their radiance can be blinding to unaccustomed eyes, she had said to me. I hadn’t realized what she had meant until much later. I turned off the water and exited the shower. After drying myself off, I darted out of the bathroom and into my room to look for something to wear. I opened my closet and easily spotted it between rows of black—Mom’s lace trimmed white nightgown. In my mind’s eye, I saw her wearing it the night she was with the angel. I didn’t know whether that was indeed the case, but the thought made me hesitate. Finding nothing else festive enough to wear, I slipped it on and covered my shoulders with a woolen scarf. I then tore a sheet off my bed and folded it under my arm, looked at my desk, and slowly opened the drawer. I picked up the red lipstick and curled my fingers around its shiny enclosure. “Ready to peel back the veils?” Daniel asked when I entered the kitchen. He was ready to go, the box in his hands. Peeling back the veils. . . .was that what this quest was about? I nodded and followed him down the hallway of our unlit house toward the front door, spying eyes trailing us from dark corners. Daniel paused in the foyer to put on his tennis shoes. I glanced at my boots but they looked weighed with too much mud. I chose to leave my feet bare. We exited through the front door and walked down the stairway. The bottom arc of the full moon was brushing against the oaks’ crowns. I trailed my brother’s footsteps in the warm night, temperatures resembling those of May rather than March. Or maybe it was just I who felt warm? But even Daniel was dressed lightly, wearing a white T-shirt, which tonight glowed with opal luminescence. We skirted the house, walked through our garden, across a small empty field, and down lower toward the creek. The meadows . . . I thought. Back to where it all started. We entered the short wooden bridge. On the other side, young grasses sparkled with moisture. I walked hugging the folded bed sheet and squeezing the lipstick, careful not to let the gown catch any splinters. The night was serene and even though it was dark, nature seemed aroused and awake. A delicate breeze played with tree branches, the rustle adding to the ambient sounds of the flowing water. I thought I could hear the song of sirens downriver. Stepping off the bridge, Daniel reached his hand toward me and upon our contact the singing vanished, the song once more becoming a subtle trickling of the stream. My feet touched the solid ground and Daniel pointed ahead. Uri stood in the middle of an open field, outlined by a circle of light, hands in this pockets, head towards the moon. “You came!” I called to him. Handing the sheet to Daniel, I lifted the gown to my knees and ran across the grasses, to greet him. Uri turned toward me and I fell into his embrace. “I heard your call,” he said squeezing me tight. “I feel so much better that you are here.” Daniel joined us, and the two Nephilim brothers embraced without a word. I suspected they were in a constant thought exchange so speaking was superfluous. “I guess there is no question as to where we should settle,” Daniel pointed toward the spot illuminated by a ring of moonlight. He unrolled the sheet, opened the box, and with Uri’s help arranged upon it the three shamanic artifacts: the veil, the wand and the stone. While they did so, I discretely applied a layer of crimson to my lips. When everything was set, Daniel and Uri kicked off their shoes, and all three of us stepped onto the sheet. Together, we formed a triangle. Daniel bent forward and picked up the black veil of protection and carefully placed it on my head. We stood quiet for moment, their faces solemn and eyes on me, before we linked our hands and my lids fell shut like two heavy curtains. Interlaced with mine, their fingers seemed to elongate, plowing beneath my skin, threading through gaps between veins, reaching for lungs, before gaining a stronghold on the heart. I took a deep breath. They were with me. Daniel spoke. “Tonight you will walk the shamanic path. We are here to help dispel the obstructions so that you may find the gateway of your soul.” Uri took over. “The journey will unravel memories encoded within your cells, the serpentine wisdom leading you back to the time before your birth.” “I, Daniel, will take you to the threshold.” “And I, Uriel, will provide the key.” Beneath my closed eyes, I saw two distinct auras forming in the place where Uri and Daniel stood. Daniel’s was golden like the sun and Uri’s silver like the moon. I felt their light rush into my body. Daniel’s flowed downward, anchoring me to the earth, while Uri’s spiraled upward towards the sky. “Dear sister, descendant of El,” Daniel spoke. “May the ancestors of the renown guard you on your journey into the finer dimensions.” “And as the gates open before you, may your truth be your guide,” Uri said, and our hands reached toward the sky. At once, the wind picked up force and the river surged onward. The rushing sounds merged with an oscillating vibration moving through me, becoming the ambient current of my spirit flight. The earth trembled beneath me. My soul and nature were merging. Just then, I heard a voice. It belonged to a man. “A true shaman owns her darkness,” he said. I recognized grandfather. The shaman came to offer his guidance. I sent my silent thanks. “To summon an angel, you must give up your stance. Your path will split, it will diverge. The elements will rage, as they must rearrange. Nothing will be the same. Are you sure you want to take this flight?” “Yes,” I cried into the vortex spinning around me. “Then ascend!” the voice ordered. I felt a cord extend through my feet and burrow down into the very core of the Earth. At the same time, my mind expanded with such velocity that in no time it reached all the corners of the universe, where it witnessed a glowing theatre of instantaneous creation. Soon the elements settled, movement slowed and a tapestry of floating galaxies unfolded before me. Focus now. See the gate, Daniel’s voice echoed through space. Concentrating on his words, my mind contracted into a point-like singularity. It separated from the cosmic matrix, and I became an entity again. I spun around on my axis to scan the cosmic panorama. In one area, where the vacuum folded on itself, I saw an outline of a round gateway with a cavernous wormhole at its core. I noticed I was orbiting around it, feeling myself drawn to it like a speck of iron toward a magnet. The closer I got, the faster I approached until my ethereal body passed through the funnel-like boundary. Physical sensation returned to me when my bare feet touched the cold stone ground. A shiver rippled up my spine, snapping my mind into my new body. I was standing inside a dark chamber in front of an arched portal made of stone with two pillars on each side. I looked at my pale glowing hands. “True knowledge withstands the test of time—no part can ever be lost. True knowledge is unborn—what has been, always will be,” a female voice echoed. “True knowledge can be known only if it rests outside the confines of time.” I could not see her but I did recognize that voice. And even though she spoke in a different language, I understood every word. “Goddess of night, Lord of light—open the gates to your eternal knowledge so that our minds may dwell in pools of undisturbed clarity.” I knew that prayer. This is how the temple priestesses began each ceremony. From a distance, I saw a glimmer of light approaching, like a bright star that kept getting bigger. Once it was close enough for me to discern its shape, I noticed it was a torch flame carried by a woman dressed in a silver robe. Her hair was fair and flowing past her waist. Her eyes were blue and bright. “I was summoned to serve as your guide on this journey,” she said settling on the stone floor, next to where I stood. I bowed my head and looked at her radiant face. “I know you,” I said, in the same language. She smiled. “Of course you do.”
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