The doors of the Icosahedron

The Eleventh Day: Moonlight for Your Compass

“There were not always dragons in the valley of Sphinx, Gamma” Enzo says, looking at the North Star like an astronomer in a brink of discovery. He spent decades studying the night summer sky and its correlation to every hill, tunnel, vortex, portal and a lay line on the Giza plateau. His sharp gaze fixed at a specific point above.

“It’s not my fault,” I adjust my pink shawl to cover my eyes from the warm sticky wind that just blew sand all over my face. I feel small sharp rocks flying into my open sandals. I am not sure Enzo heard me.

“There used to be over six hundred thousand pyramids across our galaxy, and now we have less than 100 left. What is the fastest speed there is, Gamma?” He continues.

“The speed of light?” I reply.

Enzo freezes for a moment as if he heard something and looks towards the left side. He raises his right index finger, signalling for me to be silent.

We are completely exposed under the cloudless sky in the middle of Giza, our white attire contrasting against the dark sands, causing us to look like two sailing boats in the middle of the vast ocean. There is nowhere to hide. I twitch, as a dry bush rolls past us, carried by the wind.

“The speed of a thought is the fastest,” Enzo continues “Never forget the power of a thought, Gamma. Only those who understand this potential can be released from the limitations of time and space. You won’t be able to activate the Great Pyramid without this ability. You are the third and last to attempt this. If you can't, no one else can.” He paused looking at the night sky again.

“We are running out of time,” Enzo turns towards me. His hair appears to be black against his pale skin under the moon light, as if he has just shape-shifted in front of my own eyes into a dead corpse. I had to look twice to make sure it was him. The thought of dying so young sends my heart into a race, and I rush to look for a distraction.

“I know what’s at stake…I know who I am and where I went wrong before… I was scared, Enzo, this is how I failed…and I know why others before me failed as well. But it’s going to be different this time, I just need...to transcend my fear. I can do this,’’ I mumble, hoping to sound convincing.

“Time to go. When Orion takes its position in three days, we will have another opening. Tonight, we need to practice again to help you understand that vulnerability or the lack of it, is the result of your own thoughts. Nothing except your thoughts can attack you. Nothing except your thoughts can make you think you are vulnerable. And nothing except your thoughts can prove to you this is not so. Fear is not real, and the Dragon can see your biggest fears. He knows who you really are. This is his only power.”

Enzo walks towards The Great Pyramid. I hear the echo of sand and rocks moving under his every stride, as I follow three steps behind. No matter how fast I move, I can’t catch up with his manoeuvres. As he suddenly freezes dead in his tracks, I almost clash into his back.

I feel his familiar warmth and catch his scent of sage, burnt pine wood and amber. He smells like home, the safe space, the Temple of Fire. If only my eyes were blue like his and his hair was red like mine, we could be mistaken for siblings.

But for now, he is my guide, my guardian, my partner in light. Our biggest challenge yet is upon us, our bond is still developing as we have only met eleven days ago.

I stand behind him, shielded from the sand-filled wind, waiting for his signal to move on. He takes a 5-inch Blue Obsidian Scrying Mirror out of an old leather cross-body pouch and looks holds it against the moon light, focusing specifically towards the area of an underground tunnel on our left. The metal gate protecting the entrance into the Osiris Shaft is wide open. It is known for being the causeway, linking the Sphinx to the Second Pyramid and a holding place for the Tomb of Osiris, the God of the Dead and the ruler of the Underworld.

“Are you serious?” I look at Enzo in disbelief.

At that precise moment, the wind blows into my face, my back, my legs, raising my long dress into the air. A familiar sensation takes over me. I feel chills all over my body and the intensity of fear in my every bone. It is back again.

“How much water do you have?” He asks.

“About a half…” I put up a cheerful tone, while I shake my aluminium water flask in front of him with trembling hands.

“It should be enough for one night. On the way back, we will refill our flasks with underground water from the lowest chamber, it will help you with the final task on the thirteenth day. I have a torch; it should last for some time.”

“Are you serious, Enzo?! You said, we are just going to practice...”

“We are.”

“I am not ready; I need to prepare. Going 100 feet underground, in the middle of the night, via a rotten ladder…It’s a vertical drop, Enzo…do you have any idea what is down there? It is a maze designed for dying…The Ruler of the Underworld is buried there…Do I need to say more?”

“We are going to get water. It is a very special water, Gamma. The shaft has three levels; we will take breaks. We will be back before sunrise.”

“Enzo…!”

“Gamma…?”

Day One: Great Elder Quena

On the Summer Solstice, eleven days ago, my heart jumped with joy when the High Priest Fatahuta has called my name in front of a huge crowd.

“Gamma Maria O’Shea, rise. The time of Great Confusion...demands us to be truthful. Answer from your heart, not your mind. Are you ready?”

There is nothing memorable about me, apart from my hair and one crooked tooth. If I wear a headscarf to cover my bronze plaits, people walk past me as if I do not exist. Without my hair, I am invisible.

I wear bright colors, I want to be seen. The soft cotton shawl around my shoulders is pink with white silk tassels, that I have made myself. My hair is loose, falling down my back below my waist.

Today, I have been offered to step up for an occasion. This is how, from being no one, I become special. Even if it means, that my life will end in thirteen days.

“Ready.” I approach the High Priest with a glorious smile.

The crowd responded to me with loud cheers. It felt so good to be finally noticed, seen, appreciated.

As I kneel in front of the Priest, he steps away and to everyone’s surprise, the sacred great elder, Mother Quena, appears.

No one knows how old she really is. She shows up once every 25 years to give her blessings, when the times are tough, to help people to keep going. Her timing, as always, is perfect. We suffered so much and are desperate for a miracle, a sacrifice or both.

The crowd gasp in owe when they realise who came to give me final blessings.

She is not what I had expected her to be.

Not higher than five feet, her presence is undeniable.

Her beautifully crafted ceremonial attire is so exquisite in color, craftsmanship and design, it is impossible to look away. Mesmerised by the most harmonic display of sacred geometry, crystals, elements, emotions and energy, I feel certain that this garment had not been made on this planet.

When Mother Quena puts her left hand on top of my head, I feel a current as if I was being hit by lightning. I do my best not to pass out by focusing on her feet, and touching the earthy ground with my both hands.

It was known that Mother Quena was hundreds of years old. Now, when she is in front of me, I know they were wrong. I feel with utmost certainty, that she celebrated not hundreds but thousands of Birthdays or as Enzo calls them, Galactic Spins.

With her hand still touching my forehead, she speaks with great power in a language that I do not understand. Is there anyone on this planet left who can interpret what she is saying, even the high Priest Fatahuta? I am not sure. Maybe, her words do not have to be understood, but to be felt?

Mother Quena proceeds to draw invisible symbols with her hand on my forehead until she finally pulls my chin up, to look into my eyes. Her face is deeply wrinkled, with royal cheekbones covered in tattoos, her eyes piercing through time and space. Looking at her was like looking at the night sky or the deepest part of the ocean.

She stares into my soul as if all my past and future ancestors and all possible incarnations of myself, came to become one pair of eyes, just so we can finally see each other. And as her every word lands into my DNA, she continues to weave riddles, sounds, and wisdom into me. I feel overcome by all types of deep emotions, from sadness to great joy, from rage to instant forgiveness, from grief to unlimited love.

I feel every word she is saying, but my mind can only understand two that she keeps stressing on:

“Gamma!... Gamma!”

“Dra-gone...Dra-gone…Dra-gone!”

Finally, she says my name for the third time but with a different tone, that sounds like a question:

“Gamma?”

The last thing I remember, I was crying (or rather wailing) loudly like a wounded grizzly bear, while trying to wipe the flood of my tears with my pink shawl, looking like a hot mess, rather than a hero.

Finally, she smudges my whole body with a smoke from an unknown burning herb. The smell reminds me of something or someone and punches me with a rush of emotions in such way that my heart starts beating as a wild bird caught in a net. Great Mother Quena feels my distress and by a wave of her hand she asks me to breath the smoke in.

I stop sobbing, blow my nose into my shawl and inhale so deeply, as if attempting to take the whole universe into my nostrils.

In that split moment I grasp the most indescribable, overpowering, euphoric feeling of love that just flooded my heart and my whole being. As if something incredibly important that was lost had finally been returned to me.

As I see myself inside of a giant icosahedron, suddenly I know with utmost certainty, that every single thing is perfectly interconnected, that no wish is ever wasted and that every breath, every daydream, every crooked tooth are a miracle. And this is when I loose control, collapsing on the floor in front of Great Mother Quena.

The Unlikely Pair: All truths are true

It took a while to remember who I was when I had regained consciousness.

I was laying on a wooden table, in the middle of a spacious room, with temple-like ceilings.

Beams of sunlight were pouring like liquid gold through the large arched windows. The room was filled with hundreds of candles, and it made the space feel warm and scented with an unusual mix of sage, amber and burned pine wood.

I felt lightheaded. I was not sure if it was a dream or if I shifted into a new dimension, where Mother Quena resided. My pink shawl covered my body giving me comfort. I looked around and immediately saw a tall, broad young man staring at me as he stood on my right side.

“Welcome to The Temple of Fire, Gamma. I see you like pink.” He pointed out.

“You do not like pink?”

“I do. It is a powerful colour; it holds the passion of Red and the innocence of White. I am Enzo and I am going to be your partner until the end.”

"So...are we dying together?"

"If we practice well, we may live, Gamma."