As previously mentioned in myMicromanifesto #1, my conceptualization of the Archetypes was necessarily reductive. The writings I provided concerning them, as such, was reflective of this same reductive process and, with time, I have come to appreciate these emergent figures as far more than the “archetypes” presented. I feel my previous writings a betrayal to the complexity of nature and character that they have shown me since initial contact. In this (series), I hope to both correct my misgivings and use what I have since learned to better relate their nature and function. Given that I have chosen to delve into these figures individually (most of my time has thus far been spent seeking to understand The Red Queen, whom I now call RAKALA), it seems right that I should redress them in the same manner. I cannot ensure that these revisions will be the last, but what I know is that this project will be one requiring time. Despite having studied RAKALA for more than a year now, I am conscious that I know only her most basic realities, and have only just begun transitioning to my phase of study under [the Earth Mother]. In short, do not assume what you find herein is absolute, for RAKALA exists, above all else, in the concept of Change.
Does the Red Queen associate or remind you of any other more known deity or of a Pomba Gira spirit?
Oh, absolutely. Pomba Gira is what led me to RAKALA. I recognized in her something greater than a body of spirits, but a primordial force. Of course, Pomba Gira comes to us from Èṣù (comprised also of Bantu and Iberian influence), and in many ways RAKALA is also related to him. But Èṣù and RAKALA are not synonymous, rather parallel, in the way of most Tricksters.
As for the influence of Pomba Gira and the Red Queen (as a manifestation of RAKALA), they are most certainly linked. I was working with Pomba Gira (and continue to do so) at the time I came to know the Red Queen. As noted above, it is very like her to come to you as you wish for her to be, only to turn your perceptions on their head (granted, this can be a facet of Pomba Gira, too, which further confuses the situation). It was preemptive of me to write of the Red Queen without knowing RAKALA: and she has made this clear.
In essence, the Red Queen mirrors Pomba Gira, but they are born from two different ‘heads.’ In the same way that Pomba Gira does not represent Èṣù in his entirety, ‘unadulterated,’ the same can be said of the Red Queen and RAKALA.
Given her appearance, some might also conflate the Red Queen (and by extension RAKALA) with Crowley’s Babalon, but I am wont to discourage this relation. While the Red Queen represents the ‘liberated woman’ (a murky concept that merits its own post), she is also domineering and far from a “fertility” goddess. But these things do not matter, because the Red Queen is neither fixed nor ‘real.’ She is but one of RAKALA’s guises, fashioned to suit any situation or preconception. The Red Queen is very much a figure of projection: she is RAKALA’s “Pomba Gira costume.” Her answer to my preconceptions.
The Red Queen is only a mask, it has features, but it is obfuscation.
Additionally, I have very recently (a few weeks ago, by complete chance) learned of a new figure called Ellis/LS Godform of the DKMU (which I know next to nothing about) who may well reflect RAKALA in some ways, but such will require far more research (and/or snooping) before I can speak at length regarding similarity and difference.
“Black book” is the traditional regional name used in Denmark and Norway, and occasionally found also in the parts of Sweden that used to be part of Denmark. It is part of the regional heritage, and not found any other place. It is only marginally related to classical continental “grimoires”, and has no relationship whatsoever with modern “books of shadows” and similar.
Both the “black books” and the more “grimoire”-like magic books in Norway and Denmark (particularly in Denmark) are sometimes called “cyprianus”, without the contents necessarily being related to the so-called cyprianic magic.
In Sweden, the parallel to the term “black book” is “black arts book”, but this term is a more generic one, as the books more often have individual titles such as “Solomonic Arts”, “The Old Apotechary”, “Sympathetic Sciences” and so on if indeed they are found to have titles at all.
“Black Book” appears in witch trial records outside of Sweden, Norway and Denmark.
A short google search to substitute for me going through my library of history books about this topic and writing a term paper regarding returns historical results from Scotland, Venice, Romania, Czech, Russia, Salem, and Iceland.
My google foo seems to fail me today, all I can find is a reference to the folkloric “black book” (the one you got after graduating the equally folkloric “black school” at the University of Wittenberg) from Scotland – nothing on an actual tradition of actual books. Except from Scandinavia and in particular Norway. Could you be so kind and give me the search string you used?
Aye! I cannot help but be super interested in this topic. Hope you two don’t mind :’)
From my own research, I have found references of the following:
Barbara Napier deposed that ‘the devil wess with them in likeness of ane black man … the devil start up in the pulpit, like a mickle blak man, with ane black beard sticking out like ane goat’s beard, clad in ane blak tatie [tattered] gown and ane ewill favoured scull bonnet on his heid; hauing ane black book in his hand’.
From ‘Witch Cult in Western Europe’
Its a quote from one of the witch trials, but I cannot find the source of which trial it was taken from specifically.
Seventh, they pray the devil to strike them out of the book of life, and to inscribe them in the book of death. So we can read written in a black book the names of the witches of Avignon.
Compendium Maleficarum, The Montague Summers Edition
Supposedly there is also a famous lost “black book” that Nigel Jackson based one of his books from, but I can’t really find a source for that. (I believe its talked about in this interview?)
Book of Shadows is a term coined by Gerald Gardner, it’s newer term for an older concept. A Wiccan coven or traditions book of shadows contains liturgy for rituals, spells, and songs as well as any of the groups history. The personal book of shadows is much the same, but also may include personal magical diary material as well. Older terms for the same are Black Book and Grimoire. Some family traditions use common place books, recipe books, psalters, and herbal notes in their heritage as books of shadows, even if they weren’t originally called that. Feel free to use any term that suits you. In my opinion they are all reasonable terms even if they have different ages of use.
A particularly robust motif in the lore of witchcraft is the importance of the grimoire,or magic book, an essential tool for occultists to cast spells. Evidence presented in witchcraft trials regularly mentioned two such volumes: One was a “large black book” owned by the devil or by the head of the witches’ coven, in which the names of witches were signed, often in blood. Another was a “Black Bible” or “Devil’s Missal,” from which the devil or his servants read during their rituals.
Lucifer Ascending: The Occult in Folklore and Popular CultureBill Ellis
This one doesn’t /really/ specify where the term ‘black book’ comes from, but it also references the black bibles we were talking about earlier. Perhaps some of this comes from their rise to popularity? Though, I could see folks just tacking on “black” to anything deemed diabolic or not Christian enough. The Church liked to do that a lot back in the day.
In my research, I also found something called the Black Book of Taymouth, but couldn’t find a lot about it.
I don’t mind at all! Quite the contrary! And, thank you for digging out all that! – However it is not the type of “black book” which is intended in Scandinavia. The ones you have found are the book the “devil” or the “black man” writes the name of the newly initiated witches. Something entirely different! Well, mmaybe apart from the last quote there – except the Scandinavian “black books” are small; some are so tiny you can hide them in your palm!
ohhhh interesting.
Didn’t know there was a big difference. The lore I am familiar with is the devil having the witch sign the book, then giving them their own black book. Most likely functioning like the magical books from Dr. Fian, where you’d write your name in, then the book would function as a group grimoire essentially.
Its not necessarily that they are anything like the Swedish Black Books, but just happen to have similar associations with just the name itself?
Yeh, but it is so strange then, that when you look for the term, all you get are Scandinavian references – if it is all that common also elsewhere, don’t you think?
I have searched s fifty-odd hits, and not found a single reference to what you say here about the “devil” giving the witches books, too, only that they sign his book or that he himself write their names in it.
Its hard to say how exactly the lore came to be as it is, and what sources it is pulling from. I find a lot of American witch lore tends to be a conglomeration of various cultures. But, its quite interesting, especially since it has elements of lore pertaining to a witch being unable to pass down their power (or even die) without giving an item to another (such as a knife or a book). Though, I’ve generally just have seen it as a witch being unable to die without passing their knowledge.
That’s an interesting bit you found! It mentions the book the “devil” gives the witches as well! I haven’t encountered this at all in Norway.
That the folkloric book must be destroyed is typical, but in Norwegian lore the book will be found unharmed in the hearth in the morning! In our folklore you can only sell it for less than you got it for. When you cannot sell it you have to be buried with it. Interesting how the lore is so similar, yet not.
The real books – their contents, that is – are similarly hard to trace as all the lore. Some of their contents is clearly distorted “learned” magic, but how that type of “knowledge” ended up in a tiny book in the hands of a farmer or cotter who has never been anywhere…? The books the soldiers had are easier to explain, soldiers were out and about – even abroad – and met people other than their own neighbours. Afaik, only soldiers and occasionally other poor youngsters are known to wanting to sign a contract with the devil – there are several such letters or contracts preserved.
Hot Damn. That’s super interesting.
I just adore all of this. Folklore around various magical texts are fascinating. I remember reading a while back a folk tale of a son that found his father’s “devil book” and read it. It described the book being a bible written completely backwards. And when the child read it and fell ill, the father read it backwards to undo the curse.
Its things like this that get me so pumped.
I see my stomping ground is getting some recognition. I live about 10 minutes from Shawneetown. ✌🏽 and for any interested, I would encourage all to stay AWAY from Shawneetown. Especially Old Town. You will not be welcome, not that they have anything but a bar run out of someone’s shack-house.
As previously mentioned in myMicromanifesto #1, my conceptualization of the Archetypes was necessarily reductive. The writings I provided concerning them, as such, was reflective of this same reductive process and, with time, I have come to appreciate these emergent figures as far more than the “archetypes” presented. I feel my previous writings a betrayal to the complexity of nature and character that they have shown me since initial contact. In this (series), I hope to both correct my misgivings and use what I have since learned to better relate their nature and function. Given that I have chosen to delve into these figures individually (most of my time has thus far been spent seeking to understand The Red Queen, whom I now call RAKALA), it seems right that I should redress them in the same manner. I cannot ensure that these revisions will be the last, but what I know is that this project will be one requiring time. Despite having studied RAKALA for more than a year now, I am conscious that I know only her most basic realities, and have only just begun transitioning to my phase of study under [the Earth Mother]. In short, do not assume what you find herein is absolute, for RAKALA exists, above all else, in the concept of Change.
With that being said, I quote that which was written in the Evocation of the Red Queen in hopes that I might offer a both broader and more accurate portrait of her:
She is ruled by fire – the fearsome aspect of the planetary energy of Venus, volcanic and volatile. In a sense, she is the domineering match to the masculine Mars, the traitorous seductress.
This is misleading, for RAKALA’s nature is defined neither by gender nor sexuality. While this description is true for some of the aspects of RAKALA, it is not encompassing of her whole. In calling her ‘volcanic and volatile’ I highlight her potential for destruction, but not recreation. In fact, I have found that RAKALA is only part of a greater whole, whom I call MARAKALA: the figure responsible for separating the states of matter (the Body) and the consciousness (the Mind) of the Great Goddess – who comprises all things in all realities. To each state MARAKALA appointed a sovereign consciousness, a piece of the preeminent Great Goddess’ Mind (of which she was already a part). These would become [the Earth Mother], [the Lady of the Depths] and [the Queen of Heaven], ruling the solid, liquid and gaseous state respectively. MARAKALA would then sever herself in two, becoming MA (which one might equate with ‘energy,’ present in all things, though she is formless) and RAKALA. MA severs, RAKALA pieces together: together they are Change, though RAKALA is given form. While this speaks to what might be called the ‘greatest’ or ‘most removed’ reality of RAKALA, her relation to humanity is far more important (to me, as a human).
While never posted, I have written of RAKALA (more in line with my current understanding) before, and find that it may offer further clarification. Concerning her complex and varying levels of existence, I wrote:
[S]he is the embodiment of change: she is potentiality and kinesis, she is the vibration of atoms, energy and expansion, defiant of the static. This is her most fundamental manifestation, without personification, devoid of ascription. Coextending is her sentience, be it prescribed by humanity or the inspiration for humanity’s prescriptions is of little importance: she exists as she does, regardless of the means. Notions of “how” and “why” are, in this case, inconsequential. […] When defining the Red Queen as infinite, I refer to the former conceptualization of her as a force; in defining her as omniscient, I refer to the latter, personified manifestation of her. The following exploration of her form, character, dominion and associations are largely identified with this sentient manifestation, but I caution against attempting to sever any one facet of her being from the rest, as each of her aspects are inseparably intervolved.
It is important to mention that this ‘intervolved’ reality extends not only to RAKALA, but MA. Despite their nominal and conceptual separation, MA and RAKALA are inextricably connected no matter MA’s “formlessness” or lack of individual consciousness. MA is Law without the need for governance, for the laws of MA are unbreakable in any given reality. MA is – in essence – that which holds realities together, but withholds the power to tear them apart.
Returning to the Evocation, I continued:
Despite our own moral connotations with such – she is not marred by our own virtue, for she exists unabashed and guiltless. She cannot be controlled, she cannot be mastered, and she cannot be owned. Her rage is explosive, her hunger insatiable, she is decadence and gluttony, she is wrath and vanity – and she will not be judged for it. What she wants, she takes; what she desires, she deserves.
RAKALA is a Trickster and that which is written here confers this inexplicitly, though in a way that is lopsided toward the “malefic” parts of her being. While what is written is true, I failed to capture the reverse. Not only is she unmarred by our concepts of ‘virtue,’ she demands that we question the very notion of what ‘virtue’ is: ‘What is its origin?’ ‘What is its purpose?’ RAKALA is intimately tied to humanity and all that it creates, for like Prometheus she defied her Sisters and gave unto our evolutionary progenitors the capacities we now possess. As a Trickster, RAKALA teaches survival through wit, manipulating Chance to her favor and whim. She knows what is, what can be, what might be, for she is what allows the possibility of all things. Without RAKALA there is no change, without change (at the most fundamental level) there is nothing: no charge, no reaction, no movement, only perpetual stasis. In describing her as I did in the Evocation, I note how she is reflective of humanity, but in the same way humanity mirrors her. By forcing us to consider our actions, or thoughts, our culture, RAKALA exposes indoctrination, misconception, constructs and the fabric of interaction. In doing so, RAKALA seeks to inspire cooperation without condemnation. She is rebellion, but not for rebellion’s sake. She will force you to question your every notion by putting them on display, by embodying the parts of you that are most loving and hateful; she is the Mirror. Furthermore, RAKALA is particularly invested in empowering the marginalized, recognizing her responsibility in creating hegemonic structures (one might say inadvertently, but, being a Trickster, RAKALA has her own motives that are decidedly ambivalent and largely incomprehensible). Whether she does this out of empathy or to delight in the dialectical, I am unsure, and I do not think it matters, for she – above all others – possesses an unwavering fondness for humans and their struggles.
Building on the nature of RAKALA, we must also consider this “form” she possesses and how she chooses to present herself. Much of the aforementioned unposted document focuses on gender and what one might expect when working with RAKALA, largely to offset the gendered features I had previously given her and to highlight her status as Trickster, which will become evident:
In true trickster fashion, the Red Queen – despite her gendered title – seems to delight in confounding people’s antiquated notions of gender, and while she can and does present on the classical, Western gender binary, she is not bound by it. If you factor in her assumed sex, things get even more delightfully complicated. In short, never presume which form the Red Queen might choose to simulate, and if you have apprehensions regarding gender liminality or possess any form of latent sexism, expect to be challenged and chided. Or worse. Discomfort both fuels and fascinates her. The opportunity to strip you of your privilege and constricted ways of thinking, expose you for all your backwards ideas and thoughtless subscriptions to hegemonic realities tickles her to no end. Embrace it: let her push your flawed notions to the point that they are engulfed in her cleansing fire, seared from your mind. Let her fill the void, let her inspire forward-thinking, innovation, rebellion. Let her come as she chooses to be, not as you expect her to.
I then continued to note some of the guises she had assumed in our work together. I refrain from adding it here for the fact that it is wholly unnecessary: RAKALA comes as she desires, fueled by the mind that perceives her. While she appears to me in many ways, these forms are undoubtedly catered to my preferences. Though she takes her name from her tendency to appear (to me) with crimson-colored skin, even this is not guaranteed, and is likely a way to assert her identity even when assuming different forms. Above all, her appearance is communicatory, working with and against your preconceptions simultaneously. As aforementioned, I have been witness to many forms of RAKALA, from that which I described in the Evocation (the Red Queen) to a naked, red man with a giant penis (her way of playing with the Trickster motif), to a skull suspended on a precarious neck of a balanced human femur and humerus (which I have no doubt was her way of mocking the Earth Mother, whose appearance I hope to document soon), to a great, red hand (one of her most frequent icons). But these do not matter: all are RAKALA, one no more so than the other.
Having touched only briefly on her layered nature, her character, her form, I recognize how difficult it is to capture her in words. As such, I believe story might more effectively convey the truth of her and will attempt soon to relate some of our interactions in further detail. But I have provided here what I hope might be the beginning of a more encompassing description of a figure that has become very important to me, even in such a short time. I seek to further correct initial misgivings and misrepresentation, concerning both the RAKALA and the other “Archetypes.” As I warned, however, I recognize that such an undertaking will require time to complete and graciously welcome such an opportunity.
[Forgive the mess, this was both much longer and more lacking than I anticipated. Stay tuned for more info, or thank me for at the very least adding a *read more* 😂]
Foreword: I’ve always had the desire to write my beliefs down in the form of a book. Admittedly, it’s always proven quite the task, because – while I know what it is that I want to say, I’m often stumped by the manner in which I want to say it. In the past, I have tried (vehemently) to write in as objective a manner as I can – to (very) little avail. And the other day, driving (the setting where most of my best ideas are formed) I decided that perhaps I should be taking a note from the countless faiths before me and approach it in a poetic (though not necessarily in the form of poetry) way. As soon as I began, I understood the great need to personify these forces – which I did. So, today, I sat down and typed a test run, just to see how it would play out and I’m happy to say it was far simpler than I expected. Of course, I was just typing, so while I edited spelling errors, the rest remains pretty much the same.
We’ll call this an extremely rough draft:
All were born in fire – a great expansive proclamation forged
in cyclical whim, devout equally to the flames of creation and destruction. It
is a force that remains: ever-spinning the heavenly bodies on their own unique
axes, expelling the cosmos further into the uncharted oblivion. This force – so
vast – remains yet, billions of years after the universal birth and from it,
sprung the potential for life – a means by which this expanse might experience
its own being. We are this meditation, this introspection and adhere –
knowingly or otherwise – to a grand hierarchy of existence and consciousness.
The stars may not know of their own heat – but we do.
If we must give unto this force a name, I will call her:
Nexus, for it is known that all things begin in the likeness of our Mother –
female. It was she who consolidated all matter and energy, gathered in an
infernal vortex, and expanded in a great flash of color, light, and splendor. And
this volcanic existence was her womb as well her form: every element funneled
from the great expanses – back from whence they came, to the Cosmic Pangea –
plucked from the vast darkness by the Voids, wherein even light might not be
spared. And these beings fed – and yet feed – Nexus, the Mother. She resides,
fragmented throughout all that is known and unknown, but at the site of
creation – the Heart of the Universe – the Voids return these pieces, tessellating
every element and experience garnered by separation. This Heart is but a nexus
in itself, a liminal place where all planes of reality collide – as such, it is
not simply the Heart of our own
Cosmos, but every existence, every
planar dimension.
And she is Nexus –
Mother: Spring of Existence; She of Red-Skin, she
of Light, Our Mother and
Destroyer, Lady of Infinite Eyes,
who might see Herself – Anew; Dressed in white hot,
plasmic fire Draped in scarves of
galaxies, And Matron of the
Stars Tended by the Black
Maidens, Sentries of the Boundaries, Who produce before her
fractured feet, The pieces shed in
jubilant fervor – As she cast herself out
– And birthed the worlds
innumerable
At the Heart of All, these pieces – beginning first with the
remnants of the Great Expansion – are distributed, continuously feeding this growing
form matter and energy until its mass might overturn its own creation force – when it
grows so vast, so large, that it begins to reverse its own Expanse, drawing –
instead – its remaining constituents homeward, back toward the Nexus, tugged at by an insatiable, gravitational hunger. It is her Rebirth, her mosaic reformation – as her
great force crushes as every piece and draws into itself every manner of
matter. All must return to the forge from whence it was wrought – with the
knowledge that in time, it, too, will be reborn at the time of the Next Age, the Expansion –
for it (like most things in existence) is cyclical.
And if we must erect
around her a mythology, then let it be this:
Nexus – the Goddess of
Creation and Destruction – when in her incendiary form (in times of Creation
and Destruction) bears crimson skin, bright and glowing like that of molten
metal, nude and without genitals (for she is
Creation). Her hair is in constant motion, swimming in the vacuum of space. She
stands ever-silent with a face so still it could well be but a mask. Dually she
is loving and violent, existing as all things, she is the spectrum of morality
as we see it – though entirely free of its confines. While her form may be
perceived, it is but a guise – she is everything and nothing, she is force and
she is matter, she is the ripple and the soundless echo, the supernova and dust.
She might be equated with Shakti – in many of her manifestations.
Hymn of Nexus
She stands on the
ellipsis plane: A sheet of crystal –
glass – Running with liquid
gold That emanates from
the wells of her feet – She is the ripple –
& she is the echo And from the edges
the metal cascades Into the vacuous
chaos; Unbound by gravity – Hanging in liquid
droplet stars; She is the crumbling
statue Constantly shattered
– and Reforming Of every shard
particle or Planet grain of sand; And as she dips one
finger in the pool beneath her feet – Every atom of her
being is hurled into the oblivion If sound could
travel, it would be symphonic – grand and beautiful But there is but
silence as each piece dazzles – bound by golden tethers – Sent to every edge,
then halted: Each piece bears her
face; In the simultaneous
darkness And blinding light,
the cords tighten And begin to spin –
so quickly, So precisely that
they might only be Perceived as one
golden egg – The age is marked and
the filaments Coil, bringing with
them every minute piece – Home; And the molten
elements And heated gases
collide Casted again in their
familiar Feminine form – She is Nexus –
Mother: Spring of Existence; She of Red-Skin, she
of Light, Our Mother and
Destroyer, Lady of Infinite Eyes,
who might see Herself – Anew; Dressed in white hot,
plasmic fire Draped in scarves of
galaxies, And Matron of the
Stars Tended by the Black
Maidens, Sentries of the
Boundaries, Who produce before
her fractured feet, The pieces shed in
jubilant fervor – As she cast herself
out – And birthed the
worlds innumerable
During intermediary times
– while her form is splayed all across the countless spheres of existence – she
may be perceived as a white-stone statue, shattered and pieced back together
with the same molten substance as before – now solidified into gold. She is
swathed in white fabric, and holds a golden astrolabe with which she surveys
the stars (or, herself, rather). She wears a crown and her hair is as black as
the vacuum that surrounds, eyes the same gold as the veins that comprise her.
It is in such a state that she is more fluid, more “human” – occupying the
Ellipsis Plane. Therein she is tended by the Voids, her Handmaidens, who are
dressed entirely in black – specifically, long gowns that cover their entire
body from the neck down: sleeves turn into gloves, synched at the waist and
cascading to the ground. Over their head they wear black veils – like mourners
– and remain ever vigilant to the whims of the Goddess. It is they who rule the
Darkness and all the Spirits therein.
The Plane is a vast, flat
sheet of crystal/glass, transparent if not for the constant tide of gold that
emanates from the feet of the Goddess, flowing like a fountain across its
entirety and cascading over the edges into the vacuum – where it then forms
into droplets and scatters itself across the black sky. This is her domain, her
observatory – where she collects every experience her “pieces” survive/suffer –
and it is through the eyes of the living that she comes to understand: not simply
her own existence, but the notion – which in her infinite form, unbound by
limitation cannot be concieved – of physicality, law, emotion, mortality, fear,
and transience. For to be infinite – finite concepts cannot be known, and vice
versa. And it is this notion that will resurface again and again – the
separation of finite and infinite.
But Nexus – despite her
given purpose as Creator of All – is not the First Mother. She was birthed by
the Darkness, the black abysmal space in which nothing was but an emptiness. Before the time of matter, mass and energy –
before the time of light – before time: there was Darkness – there was The
Black Mother.
It was she – of
shapeless, formless, nonexistence – that drew the Nexus from the nothingness
and, in this act of martyrdom, destroyed herself so that existence might be. It
was she who dreamed the Nexus into being, and it was She – the personification
of nothingness – who had to be destroyed before anything could ever be. So dreamed – if only for a moment –
and from nothing was born everything. And now – in the Age of the
Nexus – wherein she might create, she drew from her own existence the recesses
and named them in her mother’s honor – these hollow spaces and the embrace of
the abyss: the Black Mother lived again, in the emptiness – in the Voids, as
loyal servant to her own daughter.
She is the embodiment
of disembodiment; this vacuous blackness that resides. She is empty space, she
is the furthest recesses of the cosmos, whereupon light has never touched, she
is the black upon which the stars are hung and cosmos shrink. Her flesh is that
of the Nightmare – endless darkness, palpable and serpentine – but never forget
that it was she who birthed the light, who allowed for matter and energy to
exist in her – and the one who sacrificed herself to create the Creator. She is
the Progenitor of Creation – and the Successor to Ultimate Destruction.
There was Nothing, then there was One, comprised of All that is, was, will be, could be, pushing into countless infinities. Then there were Two, who cut the tangible elements from whence She was drawn away. One into Three, and herself in Two, totaling Five, but Four held in great esteem: [The Earth Mother], [The Queen of Heaven], [The Lady of the Depths], and [The Red Queen]. [The Red Queen] keeps Seven, for She is the Seventh named from Nothingness. [The primordial aspect of the Red Queen] rules Nine, agent of Destruction, cutting asunder the tethers which hold realities together. Nine is the Knife; Ten is the Needle, stitching new sequences from the pieces: Creation, [Nexus].
Standard
Be Forewarned:
The things I intend to post soon will likely be of no use to anyone but me, but my projects of late have been very personal and thus, all I have to offer up for the time being.
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To burn is to transmute: it severs the energetic, the spiritual reality of an object from its physical form. Though the latter is reduced to ash and particle, its power escapes in heat, in light, its spirit thus becoming boundless. Be conscious of what spirits you set free.
The Qedavian Apocrypha 