Gaia Redeemer: The Iron Spectrum

[Sakura Tenshi]

Our wisdom flows sweet, taste and see. TRANSMIT-Initiate Oranbega Signal-RECEIVE-Initiate Nietzche Frequency-DOWNLOAD-Bram Stroker Lexicon-LAST SEASON ON CLEARANCE-Initiate Messiac Complex Protocol-THE ABYSS GAZES BACK-Initiate Sisyphean cadance-The Iron Spectrum-WITNESS-Gaia Redeemer

 

A man walks down the street, it's a street in a strange world, maybe it's the third world. But it's not his first time around, sweetling. You too saw him once in ages past, but you wore another face as did he. It was streets illuminated by a Prometheus named Ermeeth in his city of magic and circles. This was not the first time your paths crossed, sweetling, it would not be the last.

 

Initiate Genesis 2:4

 

The first sweetling began like many of you, an ape swamp, oohooh-ing and ahah-ing between the festivities of his fecal matter and omega-3 feasts from the fetid, writhing buffets. But tiny killers and barometric catastrophes drove them from the brackish bayous of Africa and in search of greener pastures with his fellow Adams. In time with their Eves they found garden of a valley, lush with tasty flesh of flora and fauna your kind so loves.

 

Paradise they called it in the modern rolling of oral appendages, ‘Eden’ was what left their tongues. But a snake lurked in the garden, and the rest of the story is written in the lattice of your DNA, burned into the memory of his, but the ending has a twist neither of you saw coming! The serpent despoiled their homes and despoiled the wives, the sons, the brothers, the mothers, the fathers, and every relation in between and imaginable, the horror of bodily fluids and charred bodies ended only when a surviving Sweetling of the first age appeared before him. But blackened was his fragile heart and revenge he swore upon both Heaven and Hell. Silly sweetling, you can scream all you want, there is no one who will listen above of below. But the Adam knew this though, and thus, begged to his savior to teach him in the ways of carnage and blood.

 

But Lilith rebuked him, seeing the taint of rage in his soul.

 

For ten years Adam followed the footsteps of Lilith, begging for her tutelage, and for ten years he was denied. Ten years he hoped to glean the secret of her strength which let her fell great beasts with the ease of flint murdering fragile saplings. On the tenth day of the tenth month of the tenth year, the precursor turned to ask Adam what he would do with the power she wielded. In typical Martian bravado he swore to slay the enemies of mankind, and that’s when Lilith led him to a burning grove, cut down by his fellow man, where fragile spirits of Tellus lay dying in pain. “Mankind needs protection, but so to do all children of Gaia.” saith Lilith, and on she led him, to show him the horrors man was capable of even then. And in the eyes of starving wolf cubs he saw his son stolen from his mother’s teat to pleasure a snake’s bifurcated cruelty. In the entrail rent bears he could see his wife’s pain as she was rent bifurcated. In the diseased waters, laden with the dead did he see his paradise, his eden’s blood flow free.

 

And in this suffering, he saw himself, he saw enlightenment.

 

His first lesson taught, Lilith led Adam to a cold place at the throat of the world, a great cauldron once where fire wept in millenia only Lilith could remember. Down a narrow opening she guided, deeper and deeper did they spiral, our future sweetling’s soul rent from his body, the numbness took his sense of touch, the sting of ashes and brimstone stole his taste and smell, the howling winds deafened him to tinnitus before the modern machine, and the darkness stole his sight. For three days and three nights, a curious number, is it not? They walked this trail, going ever deeper until Adam awoke from the disembodied nightmare to a golden grove flourishing atop an immaculate machine in the shape of a tree.

 

At the center of this grove was a great lake, small it might be it spread oceans wide and Lilith instructed her student to drink from it’s honeyed waters.

 

His hands cup beneath the shimmering surface, he imbibes the potent cocktail that burns in his blood. Burns in his soul, and in the high he sees the all-mother above him, rising from the water of the lake in an image of romance. “Turn back now, tragedy only awaits you.” She says and shows him the myriad of hells he will endure.

 

“I will not!” Adam shouts in defiance.

 

“Turn back now, disgrace and shame only await you.” She says and blinds him with visions of his innumerable rejections by those he is sworn to help.

 

“I will not!” Adam gasps in defiance.

 

“Turn back now, and live full happy lives.” And Gaia shows him the joyous possibilities of his infinite circle of reincarnation. Of families, of peace, of warm nights in warmer embraces.

 

“I can not!” Adam cries out as the memories of the serpent, the sins of his fellow man, and his own failings break him more than the wisdom of the all-mother.

 

“You know the suffering, you know the disgrace, you know what you give up. Then drink once more.” She says, offering her the royal jelly of her teat from her own palm, guiding it to his lips.

 

The last Adam died that night in the center of the earth. And born was a servant from the womb of Yggdrasil.

 

Time Passes - The cub is parted from the kind huntress, and bears his fangs and claws anew, jellied orbs seeing the new spectrums in the All-mother’s Golden hues.

 

He remembers kneeling to Tielekku when Hequate and Ermeeth knelt with him, clad the flesh of beasts to protect himself. 

He read from an ancient order’s archives in Babylon before they moved what remained to London. He practiced wards under the eyes at the top of the pyramid in Egypt before the Pyramid was rebuilt beneath New York to share home with Rikti. He studied the art of fists and chaos with monks whose lips were sewn shut before their silence spoke-not in Seoul.

 

He remembers watching the Sky Ships of Mu rain Hell from above before a spined aureole made it rain from below with double spoken deals.

 

He remembers the Amazons, mutilated bosoms and phalanxes shoulder to shoulder with unlawful hybrids.

 

He remembers when the city of canals flowed with unmentionable fluids and deus vult that the enthralled remove their porcelain masks to face their shame while the resolute monk vanquished succubus in human flesh and frills.

 

He remembers when the city of lights died as red standards blocked out the amber twinkling and the funeral mass was held among buried bones to test the effects of black lattice seeds.

 

He remembers it all as fresh as the day it happened.

 

INITIATE-present day frequency

 

The old wolf stalks the streets of his ancient home, again and again, grinding blades on concrete and dulling them on flesh and bone. He lives this endless waltz of war, death, and rebirth.

 

Will the circle be unbroken this time too?