Scrying the Aethyrs: 20 – KHR

This is the text of my journal entry for my scrying of the 20th Aethyr, KHR. See my previous post on scrying the aethyrs for instructions and a description of exactly what the Aethyrs are.

I light a candle, recite the 19th call, and lay down with my eyes closed to let the vision overtake me. I am wearing isolation headphones playing pink noise to block external sounds.

A drop of water falls and silently splashes into the black waters of a lake, creating blue ripples on it’s surface. I am on a small boat, a canoe, rowing forward. The sky is complete darkness, but I can slightly see the surface of the lake below. As I row, another boat is waiting in the distance.

As I approach, a robed skeletal figure tosses a rope attached to the back of his boat. I catch it and tie it to the front of mine. Sitting, I pull in the oars as he uses a long pole to ferry us across the waters. Thin white mists rise from the lake surface as we float onward. I ask what this place is, but get no answer.

The boats arrive at a rocky shore. My guide beaches his, leaving mine floating next to a wooden dock. I climb onto it and look back to the figure, seeing he has a bony hand outstretched toward me. I check my pockets and find two coins, which I place into his palm.

Leading away from the dock is a dirt path between large dark stones. I walk forward along this path and come to a familiar house. It is isolated in blackness and mist, with nothing else around. In “real life”, thunder booms loud enough that I can hear it over my headphones, and in this place a bright flash of light briefly illuminates the sky. I stand still, unsure of approaching it, and suddenly find myself growing to gigantic size. I tower above the house, when it too grows to match my size.

I walk up the steps on the front porch and stand at the door. A cat exits a cracked window, jumps down to a chair, and brushes its head against me. This is Ozazma, which I later discovered to be an Enochian word, the verb “To Make”. They are not the governor here, they are someone I met previously. However, in the moment I do not recognize them by name or shape. They slink to the ground and begin scratching at the door, to be let inside.

I open the door, and the house is nearly how I remember it. There is no fire lit, nor any other visible lights, but the whole place has a slight blue cast to it. Ignoring the stairs, sitting room, and left path to the dining area I instead walk forward into the hall before me. I can see at the far end are large glass windows, but cannot see out of them.

I get partially down the hall, but seem to be unable to move further. Every step I take goes nowhere, and I remain in the same place. I start a small jog to try to continue forward, but it is like running on a treadmill. I stop and look down. Ozazma is by my feet, and guides me to a side hallway on my left.

This hall meets with the hall from the dining area and leads to the living room with the small television that I had seen previously. The room is bathed in blue light as static flickers on the screen of the TV. On the couch, also blue, are two dead bodies. Their mouths hang open, eyes closed, bowl of popcorn and remote control in their hands.

I walk past these figures and to the sliding glass door at the rear of the room. Opening it, I step into a back yard which seems bathed in moonlight, though no moon is seen. Ozazma stays inside. The yard is surrounded by a white fence, with a tall tree at its back right corner. I cross the lawn and climb the tree.

In the tree, another cat materializes on a branch slightly higher than mine. It is orange and striped. Their name is Zilpan, which is very close to the name of one of the governors of this Aethyr. It is a masculine form of the name Zilpa, which means “Frailty” in Hebrew.

I ask them if they are a governor of this place, and they confirm that they are. I ask what I am here to learn, and what this place is. They tell me “This is what happens to yesterday. You are to learn what happens.” A bolt of lightning strikes the tree. After a pause, I ask “What, like the Langoliers?“. Zilpan responds “Do you see any?”.

I look toward the house from my vantage point in the branches. Everything is silent and still here in the moonlight. I look back to Zilpan, who hops out of the tree. I climb down and follow him to a gate in the center of the fence.

We walk along a worn path through a grass field. As we continue, trees begin to press in from left and right. We are approaching a dense forest. The field is still bathed in moonlight from an unseen source, but the forest is completely black underneath the trees.

I fumble with my sides, looking for a lantern or flashlight, but Zilpan rubs against my legs and tells me “The light inside is all you will need here”. I find that I am wearing white robes and holding a staff which is split at the top. There is a golden light coming from my heart. We walk together into the trees as fireflies take flight and dance among the trunks.

There is no path here, but we continue through the forest. At some point our course drifts to the right and we come to a large clearing with a single large boulder at its edge. I sit on the boulder, and as I watch a huge circle of standing stones rises from the ground. In the middle of it a huge beam of light falls from the sky, as if aliens were trying to abduct anyone who enters. Together, Zilpan and I walk into the circle.

I lay down at the very center and the cat lays in the crook of my right arm. As I lay, looking upward, I begin to sink into the ground. In a few moments I am completely buried, surrounded by the henge. “This is what happens to yesterday” Zilpan says. I feel as if my body is melting into the dirt surrounding me.

From the center of my chest a plant sprouts and winds its way upwards. It breaches the surface of the grass here and continues growing. It forms into a rose. For a few moments I am a rose at the center of a stone circle, surrounded by forest and bathed in brilliant moonlight.

The rose grows larger and larger. It dwarfs the stones and trees, and from its top I see the forest stretches out as far as I can see in every direction.

Its reaches all the way to the stars. Two leaves on its stem become the wings of a butterfly.

The flower becomes the face of the sun, shining radiantly down onto the trees, but the light does not penetrate below their branches.

Some of the trees silently begin to grow. Slowly. Very slowly. But they grow.

I open my eyes as the vision ends.

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