Scrying the Aethyrs: 11 – ICH

This is the text of my journal entry for my scrying of the 11th Aethyr, ICH. See my previous post on scrying the aethyrs for instructions and a description of exactly what the Aethyrs are. This post will also contain some numbers and words related to the values of names, which will be explained and discussed at a future time.


I light a candle and perform a short ritual, recite the 19th call, and lay down with my eyes closed to let the vision overtake me.


A spotlight in the darkness, from some unseen height, shining down upon a stage.

I see it from the perspective of a hypothetical audience member, and then I find I am standing within it on the stage, looking out at the empty house of a theater.

Leaning over the front of the stage I see the orchestra pit is empty as well, as are the wings stage left and right.

I call out “Hello?” but receive no response beyond the echo of my word.


I walk into the stage right wing and through a hall, out into the house. The seats are all up. I cross in front of the orchestra pit and head up an aisle toward the glowing green EXIT sign.

Pushing through the swinging doors beneath it, I find myself in the lobby. There is a concession stand on my left, doors back into the theater in both directions, a staircase leading to the second story, and a staircase underneath that one leading down.

Directly in front of me are a series of glass doors revealing a rainy night on a city street. The doors are all locked and chained closed.

I call out again “Is anyone here? I’m looking for the governor of this Aethyr.”

I get no response, but I have a mental impression to continue. I feel like down is the correct way to go, but wishing to explore further first I choose the staircase leading upwards.


At the top of the stairs I find doors leading into the balcony of the theater. I enter and walk past the empty seats to the edge.

Looking down, I can see the house below and the spotlight still illuminating a singular spot on the stage where I was previously standing.

Finding nowhere else to go and no one around, I head back to the lobby and to the staircase leading downward.


The stairs, like the lobby floor, are carpeted red with a brass railing.

At the bottom of them I find the restrooms of this theater, and a door labeled STAFF ONLY. I enter it.

I find myself in a long hall with a brownish vinyl floor and pale white walls. At the far end is a door leading outside. Close to that on the left side is a door which seems like it would enter into the orchestra pit. Midway down on the right side is another staircase leading downward. The steps and the railing are both a soft black color.

I stand at the top of the stairs, looking into blackness below. I move to take a step, but a feeling of intense fear overcomes me. Like there is something in the dark waiting for me.

I hesitate for a few moments, thinking of other places in the theater, and then return my attention to the stairs and proceed down.


I am in pitch blackness as I reach the bottom of the stairs.

I again call out “Hello? Is anyone here?”. No answer.

I sense something wispy and ethereal is moving around me in the blackness. As if a piece of gossamer cloth were darting in and out of the range of my awareness here.

“I’m looking for the governor of this Aethyr.”

I am startled by an angelic figure appearing before me. Their wings are pale but bright, as if illuminated by moonlight, and droop from their shoulders to the ground around them. They wear a blue robe, and overtop of it a silver breastplate and helm. They hold a sword in their right hand.

“Hello. Are you the governor of this place?” I ask.

“I am Ababalond. No. I am a threshold guardian.” They respond. “Who are you?”

[Ababalond is an Enochian word that is part of the 19th Call. It translates to, as I am now looking up after the fact, “of a harlot”.]

[Ababalond = 25: Shadow, Rite, Heart, Secret, Earth]

They remind me of an image I generated a while back for another purpose, with the prompt being the name of my Holy Guardian Angel:

I identify myself to them in a number of ways. Before I can say anything else, I sense the something in the darkness around me again.


Turning from the angel, I see a light blue figure. They have an oversized head, like a beachball, with a mouth that stretches far to the sides. Their eyes are beady black dots, and their body is thin like a stick. Their long fingers have pointy nails extending from them. Though they don’t really look like one, something about them reminds me of a spider.

“Who are you?” I ask.

They grin.

“Are you a governor here? What is your name?”

They respond with a slow “yessss….”

“Tell me your name then.”

They do not answer. I feel somewhat confused, as if I have been here in the dark a while without accomplishing anything.

“You are not the governor of this Aethyr. Who are you? Tell me your name.”

“I am Keese” [pronounced “keys”] they gurgle. “You will have to take me to pass.”

[Keese = 18: Gods, Raft, Feet, Cain, Fox]

I turn back to Ababalond, who gives no indication of what is to be done.

“Very well, come along then” I say to Keese, and move toward Ababalond. They move to the side to let me pass.


I walk through what is apparently a doorway in the blackness. I cannot see it, but I am aware that it is there and that I am passing through it.

Only more blackness beyond. As I am walking through what I think is a hallway, I realize I can produce some form of light source. Candle, lantern, flashlight, cell phone… I choose instead to let light shine from within my chest. It illuminates me, but nothing else around.

Or there is nothing else around to illuminate.

I come to another staircase leading down.

I descend it step by step, finding only more darkness at its base.

I feel as if I’m on some sort of urban exploration. Like wandering around an abandoned building to see what is there.


As I walk onward, I begin to feel as if I am no longer on solid ground. I feel as if I am floating suspended in space. Looking around, I see very distant and dim dots of light that repeat many times next to themselves, as if looking at Christmas lights through many panes of glass and seeing their image in each reflection.

A voice, one I had not heard previously, speaks to me.

“No further for now”.

I ask “Who is speaking? Are you the governor of this place?”

Instead of answer my eyes involuntarily open and the vision ends.


Once again, as for the previous few Aethyrs, I had not read the scrying of Aethyr 11 by either Duncan Barford or Crowley before scrying today. I am reading them now, and adding relevant similarities here:

  • Duncan’s vision begins with him walking a city and finding a domed building with a spiral staircase descending into the dark, which he follows.
  • Duncan flings himself down the stairs and finds himself hanging in space.
  • Duncan encounters a “gangly young man”. Keese could be described in this way, if they looked more human. The figure does not clearly identify themselves at first.
  • Duncan has a point where he feels he barely remembers a conversation with the figure, and has trouble getting a name from them.
  • The figure explains there are many spirits of his like through the Aethyrs, and some are the “ghosts of shoes”. Perhaps a “lost soles” pun. Duncan speculates on the nature of human connected objects taking on spiritual dimensions, which is interesting when comparing Keese’s name to “Keys” and the idea that he had to come with me for me to pass.

  • Crowley’s vision starts off with him encountering armored and armed angels. I encountered Ababalond, an armed and armored angel.
  • Crowley’s angels did not move, and neither did Ababalond.
  • Crowley encounters the Egyptian god of the air/sky, Shu, whose presence is not expressed through any senses, but instead is just understood. I did not encounter a governor of this Aethyr, instead just understanding which way I should proceed.
  • Crowley encounters further armored angels who are guarding the way forward, and feels an incredible tension around them. I felt fear when descending toward Ababalond and Keese, and Ababalond was guarding the way forward.
  • Crowley marks this as the border of the Abyss and describes the horror of emptiness and Choronzon. My theater was completely empty, and the blackness below was as well except for the guard and the way past.


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