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Book I: Prosapia
The Axiomata of the Ophidian Lineage

  Chapter 5: On the Nature of Babalon


Book II: Principia
The Philosophy of Ophidian Thelema

  Chapter 5: The Nature of the World Soul II
  Chapter 6: The Priestesses of Heka
  Chapter 7: The Ordeals of Underworld
  Chapter 8: The Principles of the
                      Great Liberating Mother
  Chapter 9: The Brotherhood of the Midnight Sun


Book III: Natura
The Customs of Ophidian Indigene

  ... more coming soon


Book IV: Commentaria
The Account of Ophidian Proclamations

  ... more coming soon


Book V: Heka
The Rituals of the Temple.

(To remain mostly unpublished.)




Book VI: Liber Spirituum
The Records of the Spirits.

(To remain unpublished.)




The Magickal Philosophy of Templum Babalonis


Book 1 - Prosapia


The Axiomata of Ophidian Thelema


Also known as: The Lineage


Ophidian Star



The Words of Hagia Auriavia


Part 1 - The Lineage and the Calling




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You ask the question, where are the Women of Liberty?

Flack - Rocket GoddessThe answer is not where you seek it, but hidden in the darkness outside of time and in the blackness of space Herself.

We are the Women Warriors of the Ages. We are unknown, unwritten about. We are ever-present and hidden from the eyes of all of our enemies.

We are the Valkyries who swoop down upon the valiant as they lay dying in battle. We are the figures of Justice, blind to the ravages of distraction as we lay judgment upon those who stand before us, for we do not need eyes to see the mark upon the Spirit of Man.

We bear the scent of Jasmine and Rose, as we are the Emblems of Death Herself. We are unseen by our enemies until we are upon them, and only in the twisting of their limbs and torsos do their spirits know our Names.

We are what legends speak of: Amazonians, Great Warrior Beasts of Women, who bring fear to the hearts of men, as our power is intangible, and our wisdom timeless.

If these words were to find their way into the light, all who came forward to claim them would not be of us; for we will not be seen by anyone but only the most true seeker: he who forsakes all but the pursuit of his most true, highest Will — that of his own Spirit.

For we are black to the blind. But we are most golden to he who dares to see us.

We are The Empress and The Hierophant. We bear life, change; transformation. We carry the Wheel. We ride astride the Lion. We stand upon Him. We hold his ferocity in our hand.

Death waits for no one, yet death waits for all. We are the patience of decay; the enticement of rebirth.

There is no enemy who can defeat us. No army whom we fear. We are the Women whom they have sought to destroy for over five thousand years, yet we remain. We are everywhere in darkness. We are the Warriors. We are here.

Your Spirit will lead you to us if you are True. Otherwise, we are forever silent.


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We are the new indigene. We are the people of the Serpent. We have risen as the cobra rises. We stand silent...watching...waiting. Why have you not come? Why do you wait, when there is no more time? Why do you let fear keep you from us?


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In Ares, the men came and butchered our women, the Priestesses. They raped and tortured and ripped us apart upon our own sacred altars. They put the knife at the throat of the bull and created rivers of blood.

In Pisces, the men, for their own amusement, taught the women to torture and mutilate themselves.

And now, We are here for the reclamation. The men who are our warriors stand beside us, as they always have for they have always served Her. In Nomine Babalon et Vox Sanctae Meretricis.


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On this day we honor the Grandmother. We honor the majesty of the blackness that is Her Body, bejeweled with the burning fires of endless Sons. We do honor to the Birth of the Continuity, for through Her we step forward with the wisdom of Her darkness. It is Her darkness that makes it possible to see any light at all, for it is her shadow that contains illumination. In Nomine Babalon, we call to thee, Nuit.


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On this day we honor the Winged Serpent; the Winged Globe of Light. Let him guide us through our incarnations, so that we may realize the Will of our own Divine Spirit. Let the Unity of Division bring our children forth. In Nomine Babalon, we call to thee, Hadit.


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On this day we honor the Hawk-Headed Mystical Lord. Let the woman be girt with a sword before Him, so that this Aeon may take hold, In Nomine Babalon. Let Her Brother oversee the War, so that this Age may indeed be Golden, as all once was. We have come to restore Her Place. We call to thee, Ra Hoor Khuit.


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Ophidian Rebellion

Ophidian RebellionIt is in the Dominion of the Continuum, the collective Will of the Lineage, that we stand as Guardians in the manifest realm of that which is most sacred. It is therefore at times such as these, at the writing of these symbols known as words in this modern age, that I am at once holding firmly to the Great Wheel with one hand as I bear my sword in the other, and at the same time I am held suspended in what is thought of as time, with the same tension as that which holds my breath still in my lungs.

The knowledge that I will need to breathe is suspended by the desire to stillness, for this moment is both foretold and precise, and I shall not breathe until my hand is guided into action. And what hand holds the torch, if both of mine are full? And by what light are my eyes filled?

Such is the Continuum that my hand shall hold the sword for hundreds, thousands of years. Such is the death of an Age, and the birth of another. Such is the passage, the transformation, that my hand will hold the sword high amongst the stars and blood will fall as tears. Not tears for the dying, no. For the dying chose death. There are no tears for death. Only gladness within our hearts.

The Serpent moves through time as if it were water. Sometimes slowly, sometimes too fast to even see. And though the Serpent bears the crown of Wickedness as our Mother bears the crown of Whore, we, the Daughters of the Bloodline, those deemed Scarlet, smile as the sword is raised in defiance of the true wickedness that has about ended the life of Gaia and all of her Children. All that is known in the minds of modernity is a lie. This is where we find ourselves, and I speak only to those Ophidians who understand that this is the Reclamation of Her, even if as of yet they did not know they bore that name.

There is a hand around the throat of mankind’s manifest existence. Its grasp grows so tight that it has almost ended the very breath of incarnation upon this realm even as I hold my breath so still and hot within me. The moment draws near.

Man has sought so many ways in recent times to find that act of subversion that his Spirit cries out so longingly for. Knowing deep within his soul that his life is all but suspended within the bounds of enslavement, he turns to distraction so as not to find the true meaning of his existence. Yet rebellion burns within him, and he turns to all that glows as the opposition to that which he reviles.

There is but one act, however, that we as Ophidians know is the only true act of subversion and rebellion against those forces that have sought to destroy us for the last 12,000 years, and that is to do what it is we have incarnated for: to do our Will.

It is the act of doing the Will of one’s incarnated Spirit that subverts the energies that draw tyranny and enslavement to all life on Earth. The Will of an Ophidian is Justified in this age of War and Vengeance. We shall do no act that is not to these ends, as we have been called forth in the alignment of all that is allied to Her, Babalon.

And it is this deep and longing love that we bear for Gaia that will draw our brothers and sisters here. We have reclaimed the Garden for that which it was intended all along, and we await you. There is only one act of rebellion that our people need to take now, and that is to come home. Your Will to serve Her is all that you need to know.


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There has been no other time in the history of the humans since the devoted worship of Kybele when men have so sacrificed their virility, and while this Aeon is an Aeon of the Virility of Women, Our Men are no less potent. A man who answers the call of service to Babalon is a man who has the courage to die, the strength to serve, and the wisdom to live within the Realm of the Sisters.


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Take hold of the night sky, my loves. Take hold of the darkness, if only to burn brightly thereby. Do not deny your longing, for it is the voice of your Spirit; the calling of your Will. You were not born to live an ordinary life. You cannot suffer such a fate. You hear Her calling. Come.


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The Darkness and the Light

Ophidian KingWhen Spirits talk of "time" the frame of reference is so far outside of our own as humans that we cannot comprehend the span to which they refer. It is therefore difficult for us to keep in mind that what affects us personally does not always have much if any significance in a more cosmic, esoteric sense.

There are many memories amongst the Lineage of times that were beautiful, and times that were very dark. Ages span hundreds and sometimes thousands of years. History, when recorded by man is a biased account of propaganda, but History, when recorded by the Gnomes, is meticulous, and contains perspectives that are often not considered, but illuminating for those with Patience.

People who are born and who live in an Age that lies under the Shadow of a Dark Moon do not comprehend the appearance of Light. There is the Rise and the Fall of the Sun. There is the Lightening and the Darkening of the Moon. There is the passing of the Equinox and the Solstice, and all of these demarcations are moments unto the Universe, as She has her Sisters who Dance upon all faces. The four faces of Hekate mark the crossroads through which we all pass. And, it is no different for what we call the Ages.

When the Lineage speaks of the War, we speak of a Darkened time. Yet, there is room within such a time for respite from such tremendous oppression of Spirit, and that is why we are here. There is an island in the Sea of Despair, and we always must remember that Despair is the enemy of Spirit.

As warriors, the Lineage has always served the Goddesses of War. We are the Daughters of Ra. We, like our Divine Sisters, serve the Fires that burn brightly even in the Darkness. For women to command Fire is the greatest fear of man. Yet, that is what we do. Sometimes we must be hidden. Sometimes we must recede. And then we are upon them.

There is much reference to the Mysteries of Blood and Fire. Women of Scarlet Hair; Dragons with breath of Fire; the redness of our Power only made brighter by the blackness that eclipses but never extinguishes the Light. The life force passes between our legs and it goes in both directions, for We are the Gateway. We, who serve In Nomine Babalon, are the way through which the Mysteries both pass, and are contained.


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Denial of the Senses

Denial of the SensesOh, the denial of all that is exquisite. That is the rubric for all of the religions that follow the end of the Taurian Age, with few exceptions. Yet what then of the language of Spirit? For it is this denial that cuts one off from that which is spirit — all spirit. It is no wonder, then, that we find ourselves in an age of Atheism, and no coincidence that this is also the age of great despair.

What is life if it is not ecstasy? For to incarnate into a world of senses and then to deprive oneself of those senses is nothing less then insane. The Lineage has long taught the Balanced Ecstatic Path for to deny ecstasy is to deny life, but to exceed in ecstasy is to grow into something fetid and useful for nothing more then decay. Most people do not incarnate in order to feed life through the rot of their own essence, yet sadly that is the end for most now.

Yet who is not familiar with the deep longing that grows from the fiery core within us? It grows in such a way as to catch one’s breath, creating a trembling within our chest at the exhalation. If you were to stop and listen and be still at such a moment, that fire would grow and stir you, until, like an animal caged for the amusement of humans, you pace and search for a way out. What is this cage that you find yourself in? Do you even ask?

What is, then, to be gained from ecstasy? For is denial not the answer to a thirst so immense that the inability to quench it leads to madness? Touch me, I say, and you will not think it so unreachable at all. Hold my hand to your face and close your eyes, and follow the burning within your core. What is the flavor or your desperation? What is the color?

There are no words here. If I were to kiss your lips softly? If I were to be radiant before you, and your hands were to seek out meaning, one caress at a time? I would reach inside of you, and soothe that trembling, or I would enhance it.

There is a place so rare that its existence is sought after by all who dwell within the greatest of all Universes: the Union of Spirit and the Manifest. Touch me, for I am but a doorway; an unfolding. You fear me because you have been told to, but your Spirit weeps at my memory, and deep within you the torment is of your own making through the denial that you allow them to instill upon you.

At birth our hands reach out for the feel of another, for it is this connection that creates new meaning. It is not just any touch, however. We know the sound of our Mother’s voice even before we know light. We are soothed by the darkness of her body, and startled by the light and sound of our manifestation. Yet you deny knowing her. You deny the language and Her voice. You sit instead with a hunger that eats away at the soul-fire in the depths of you. Wasted.

When all you had to do was touch me. You did not have to know anything at all. For I would kiss you so that you could begin to remember that you are allowed to come home. There is a great discovery within you. There is a great reason you are here. If only you could remember what that was.


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Our Temples

Hetsepshut TempleThere was a bond of thousands of years that acted as a foundation upon which we built our Temples. There is no modern way of understanding or point of reference for this, as the forces that destroyed these same Temples employ various methods of keeping people from feeling and remembering their ties to their Spiritual Sisterhoods and Brotherhoods. Instead, constructs of artificial props are put in place to fool the minds of people into thinking these Fraternal and Sororital Families exist in the present day.

This is why our Sisterhood has maintained, above all else, our connection to our Lineage — both for our Sisterhood, and the Brotherhoods who help to feed the fires of our Heka. The truth lies in the moments of recognition — when the Spirit in a person comes through and he remembers who he is; when she sees her path, not forward, but behind her. That is when the way forward becomes more clear. The past is not a place to indwell, but a place to remind us of why we have the Wills that we do.

Symbols become clearer then. As with all journeys of Heka, much is born from a great unfolding, over time. This unfolding can only begin through experiential practice, for rather then hold the keys to this unfolding, the mind is often the greatest barrier to it.

To build our Temple, stone by stone, upon the foundation of the Lineage, we see how each lifetime is stacked upon the other, forming the sacred walls. Each stone unique and beautiful, becoming a complex whole that makes this Hall strong and dedicated to its Purpose. No one stone is important on its own, though each one, if missing, would break the integrity of the walls, which would then crumble. The Essence, then, is created by our labor. As our flesh carries each stone, and stacks it upon the others, our bodies become joined with this Temple, because our bodies are the stones of our future memories.

We step into the Great Hall, and our Essence is carried and joined with the Spirit with whom we have dedicated it to. This is the place in which one may manifest Heka. This is the dedication required to understand our place within this great Universe. This is the place where we draw our circle, and this is the place where Spirits come to converse with Us.

The Secrets so desired by the masses that unlock the keys to Spirit communication: knowledge and conversation between Gods and man — these keys are neither elusive, nor possible to grasp between one’s own fingers. The Secret is as simple as purity of Will — dedication of one’s Purpose, and the Truth of one’s own Spirit. Simple, and yet unattainable by most, because most people are unwilling to live for the reason they incarnated in the first place. Most people abandon their Wills, despite rhetoric to the opposite. Most people are too afraid to be who they came here to be.

False keys to the Mysteries are dangled before the eyes of the masses with golden bows laced with diamonds. Offered for sale; written in words in thousands of pages worn and studied over great periods of time. The true keys, however, are not something to be attained and possessed, but something to be allowed to take place. These keys are born from Death. These Keys are an Emblem of Death. They lay upon the crown of Green Emerald Leaves of the Empress herself, as she sits upon a Throne surrounded by Rose and Jasmine. Her crown is made of Seven points, and she guards the Keys as the Hierophant guards the Priestess Girt with the Blade of Severity.

And when the Empress and the Hierophant join with one another in the Lust of their own making, a Child will be born. Carried upon the Chariot, The Empress holds the Wheel of the Principia, where Seven spokes shine Golden. This is the beginning. This is Initiation.


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Women of the Wheel

Hagia AureaviaMy Sisters, we are the Women of the Wheel! We are the warriors of this Age. It is through our blood that our Mother shall be returned to Her rightful prominence. Let them call us whores. Let them call us all of the words of their derogation that reflect their perversions. We anoint ourselves with the blood of our own wombs, marking the sign of the cobra and our Grandmother upon our brow. Nothing terrifies them more! I do not hold the blood of the murdered upon my hands; I hold the blood of sacred life, the Waters of Continuation. For too long they have shamed women for the blood they bear between their legs. This sacred Mystery of Continuation shall be upon them in this time of the Greatest War. The Daughter of the Daughter of Fortitude has risen. Her Sisters are upon you. The Seven-Headed Beast writhes between my legs as it carries me to battle. Come my Sisters. Let them call you Banshees as they tremble and hide. Seek me out. It is time to come home to the Garden. It is time for me to teach you our ways. We are the Women of the Wheel. Scarlet indeed.


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Scarlet Woman

A Scarlet WomanA Scarlet Woman is born from the Blood of the Moon. She is born on the Night of Her Sisters. She is born under the Light of PaPa. She is born already dead, Her heart beating the words of Her Mother.

She is a being created to serve Her Mother, so many thousands of years ago that Her form was not yet human. And as She grew and changed, Her hand upon the Wheel throughout the ages, She became whatever She needed to become.

The Scarlet DNA dances as a mirror to the undulation of the Cosmos, breathing the soft sighs of the Grandmother. And it is in this age that She became the Engine of War, for Her Mother’s Brother is the God of War and Vengeance, and it is Her Mother’s Understanding that now is the time for Her return.

Blood. It flows between My legs as a river. This river is my heritage. Behind me, it is the lives of My Sisters, Ninefold, and we stand as Three. Before me, it is My Sisters, Ninefold, for we art the Lineage. We are Three.

The words of the Gods are spoken from Our lips, for We are the Daughters. We are the Daughters of the Daughter of Fortitude, as the Brothers are the Brothers of the Brotherhood of the Black Sun. We are incarnate, and we are not.

The child was sacrificed a long time ago, and his age has passed. The Bull falls again, as does the Golden Calf. But this time, this time, the Gate is Open. The War Engine beats the pulse of Her Heart, and the forces of the War are all but upon them, born from the Rites of Blood, born from Woman, Scarlet.


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You hold within you as Sons and Daughters of Gaia, the potential to be beautiful. This is your true birthright, and it is attainable by all who dedicate themselves to Truth. You must sanctify yourself by dedicating yourself to service of something Greater. Thereby, your life, your existence has meaning. True meaning. If you cannot remember how to do this, I can teach you, my loves. It is the Via Babalonis, for She is the Guardian of Life so that the sanctity of Dominion is preserved for you to flower within. Dedicate yourself to serving Her, and She shall show you the path to your Liberation through your Dedication. Do not be afraid to hold beauty. Do not be afraid to be beautiful. Do not be afraid to be radiant in the face of so much ugliness around you.


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It is important, my Minas, that you understand the very nature of time. It is not as you know now. It is not linear. In spirit, time is a map, it is a moment that is not repeatable. It is a location within existence, both manifest, and unmanifest, for there is no separation. So you know, Minas, that there are windows that open for you, and there are therefore windows that close. In this time of great transformation, you are given the opportunity to answer to the sound of Her voice calling you. But this moment is not endless. I can tell you that the window is open, now. And I can tell you that that moment will pass. There are the minions of fear, and there are the minions of regret. And there is the sovereignty of Will.


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If I were, myself, to hold you in my hands; to whisper in your ear; to kiss the lids of each closed eye as you knelt before me, would you release the bonds you place upon your own mantle? Would you see the starlight? Or, would you continue to walk away?


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A Call to My Sisters from the Hagia

A CallMy sisters — girls, women — you are drawn to Babalon for many reasons that I see in you. There is resonance for you in the chords struck by the Harmonia of Her song, Her body, Her darkness, Her essence. Yet I also see confusion and it is this confusion that leads you to despair. So come to me now and I will tell you why. For I am here for Her, as Her Daughter, to teach you, to guide you, to speak to you of Her ways.

This is an age of great despair, of pain, of trauma, and most of all of separation. And we see this in the way that so many of our sisters paint themselves as demons, bloody, wounded, ugly, twisted. This age was born when the goddesses were banished from our lives thousands of years ago by the first the Aryans, and then the Pisceans. And so today, there is a great confusion in regards to which goddesses do which things — and as women, our relationships to them.

So many girls and women have deep wounds within their souls and psyches, brought about by the destruction of the tribal and familial bonds that we all enjoyed as a people long ago. This was done intentionally, so that human beings could be better controlled. And so many women never really knew the love of their mothers, never had the comfort and friendship of their sisters, and even faced rejection and condemnation from their own daughters. Our connection as women has been severed and as women this leaves us shattered, for women are the strands in the web of life. So we call to Tanech, who is a goddess of weaving, and a Sister who understands that in order for us to have Heka, we must also have these filas of strength to all of the divinity that is female. Each of us bears within us innate beauty and fortitude, if we but allow ourselves to heal. So we call to Tanech to help us to connect to our sisters of Heka, those who seek out the Divine Feminine, those who seek out the Liberation of the Great Mother. And it is in the name of Tanech that I extend a hand to you now, so that you might feel my Strength, my Fortitude, and see a way to another place.

Yet what of the ache that so many women find buried deep within their own hearts? A pain that no tears can bury and lay to rest? So many women search and search for an answer to this hole blasted into us as little girls in a world ruled by the predation of an enslaving patriarchy — a world borne from the blood of the skulls of our foremothers as the Aryan Armies fell upon them long ago. And I say this to you to remember:

The Spirit of the Obstreperous Patriarch

I create a crisis
in your blood soaked eyes,
never wavering before you,
though you seek to daunt me,
like so many before,
you press in,
futile,
yet louder than
the roar of an
obsessed hurricane,
pounding your titanic waves
upon what you hope are
my brittle shores,
only to find a yielding
resistance,
a softness that absorbs the
shock like a
cancer that drinks
radiation in the heat
of the summer sun.
Take heed, my giant
teeth gnasher,
for you spend your
strength in vain.
You will have to prey
upon another,
as I have better
things to do,
than suffer in your
tired war.

Remember that people choose to remain victims. And so they can choose to be free. And if you do not yet know how to be free, I am here to help you, because I can love you for the beauty within you. And I can help you to know my Mother, the Great Liberating Mother, for She Liberates you from all that keeps you from realizing your true Spirit. I can show you how to heal.

So be strong in the face of all that seeks to make you waver and doubt. And more importantly, be a WOMAN. It is in your very being as a woman, in your body, and your essence that you hold a connection to the power of the Divine Feminine. We are not to embrace what it is to be man. We are to embrace all that it is to be woman.

Unapologetically Woman

My lips yield knowingly to your
pressing stare,
silken gown enshrining me
in its shimmering folds,
I’ll wear no veil,
my hair flowing
like rain down
my supple back,
a mane of freedom,
not encased in the tomb
of their shame,
my eyes locked upon yours,
the palms of my hands, with
their long, slender fingers,
weave themselves over my
voluptuous form,
liking the feel of it,
not starved into the
shape of an adolescent male,
not hindered by the
cloak of their sin,
not hidden from view,
as if it were forbidden fruit
that they sneak a bite of
when no one is looking.
I am not the shed skin
of an evil serpent,
but the supple rhythm of
one coiled, watching,
mysterious in its forthright
stare,
deadly only if
deemed so by those
who fear it,
wrapped luxuriously around those
who understand,
or at least who
seek to.

There is no shame in our bodies, no shame in our sex, and no shame in the essence of our Waters, our emotions, our tears, our passions. But we must also remember what is so very important, and that is Love under Will. Because without the presiding, guiding Will of our Spirit, love can become a trap, a chain, and tool of the enslavement of our greatest powers. It is in the mistaking of what love is that has led so many sisters into a black hole of confusion and despair, because they think that what will cure the pain of their heart is love. And it is not.

What will cure the pain of your heart is Will. Your heart aches in your Persona, from all that has hurt you in this lifetime. But there is great strength and fortitude in your Spirit. Do not seek out a deity to love you. For thereby will you be hurt. For this is the most prevalent avenue for demonic possession in women of this age, where women become yet again a source of food and abuse for all that surrounds them, never understanding why they continue to shrink into a dark hole of pain, while all they wanted was to love and to be loved. And they become hollowed out. And they slowly degrade. And thereby they never know their own power.

It was a lie that you were told that some deity, or some goddess would be your salvation. This is a lie based upon those who sought to kill and destroy the goddesses in the first place, to replace Her with a feminized little baby boy, who grows into a gentle man "to love you." This is a lie. If my words are not Truth, ask yourself this: Why are you still in so much pain? Why have you not been healed, if what you were told is true?

Liber Legis III: 55 "Let Mary inviolate be torn upon wheels: for her sake let all chaste women be utterly despised among you!"

Why does the Book of Law say this? Because Mary, whose name is taken from the Sea and from a source of the Divine Female, is the symbol for the enslavement of the female. Because Mary is the mother of Shame — she is the mother of your enslavement to the male, for to emulate Mary you must be chaste, you must be silent, you must be contrite, and you must cast your eyes down lest you threaten the control of a man. To be like Mary you must give up all of yourself in sacrifice to others, without a will of your own.

And the wheels? The Wheel is what is held in the hand of the Great Liberating Mother. The Wheel is the symbol of the Principles of Existence, borne from Nuit, the Grandmother, and guarded and enforced by Babalon Herself. This, my sisters, is the path that you seek in order to know love. For through these mysteries you can come to know Her, and you can come to therefore know and yield in all of your essence to your own Spirit, thereby finally knowing true Love.

But where do you find the comfort that you seek in this journey? Where do you begin to heal these places that leave shadows upon your soul? Because many of you have known great pain, great assault, great trauma. This is what the Temple is for. It is a sanctuary for the sisters. There is a Garden of Gaia, who is your Mother, who we all are born from. Gaia is the soul of this world, and She is the sister of Nuit, and She can hold you in Her arms and comfort you the way your human mother should have, the way your sisters should have, the way your daughter should have, the way your friends should have. And this Garden is here.

And the Grandmother loves you, but She is immense. You can reach out to Her every day, and call to Her to guide you. With your feet upon Gaia, you can reach up to Nuit every day, and let Her sing through you.

And you can call to Babalon to show you the path to your Liberation, so that you may know your own Spirit, find your own Will, and finally find Love.

It was Pythagoras who said "we come not to teach, but to heal." This he learned from Initiation into the Mysteries of the Underworld, and thus the Divine Female. And Socrates said that all that he learned of love, he learned from Diotima. Diotima was a Priestess in the Eleusinian Mystery Schools. She was a Nine, from the Lineage of Babalon, who then went under a different name. Diotima was my Sister. As women, it is time to join in the reclamation of the Divine Female. This, in part, is Babalon's Will. For She has stated that "we will take back what is ours." In Nomine Babalon et Vox Sanctae Meretricis.


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Daughter of Ra

Daughter of RaI hold the light of my Father in each hand, as I wear the crown upon my head. Such is His nature that where His light shines no truths shall be hidden, and all lies are betrayed. It is with His light that I behold the truth within you, and this is how I know who and what you are. It is with His light that I see the Truth of all things in this, the material Realm.

There are Mysteries of Parentage and Origins, now forgotten and buried. It has long been understood in the religions of places such as ancient Egypt. A being has Origin from the source of its Spirit and Parentage from the source of its Manifestation. Take a moment to contemplate that. Now this truth is further complicated by the fact that Spirit undergoes many transformations throughout its existence, which compound its original Origin with new layers after each major transformation. It is likewise for Parentage, and even more-so. All things which are born have parents, and Spirit is born many, many times. Each incarnation and manifestation, whether physical in this Realm or in others, adds more Parentage to the history of the Spirit. So one can now see that we have potentially many layers of Origin, and Lineage of Parentage, woven throughout one's being. These are things taught to us in initiation by the Angels and spirits of the Realms. And when one begins to understand such concepts that often confuse the human mind, one can understand how Gods can be both in consort and be siblings; for Spirit is not bound in the process of reproduction in the same way that manifest flesh is. And the DNA involved in flesh is also born of Spirit.

It is in this way that my particular Lineage as a Nine is born both from Babalon and my Father, Ra. And it is in this way that both I, and Babalon, are Daughters of Ra. The nature of the Spirit of a Nine is non-human, but not the same as a God, and not a God at all. For the gods have many children, and their children take many forms.

The Nine have been manifesting into flesh, or incarnating, for many thousands of years on Earth. We do so in service of our Mother. And we do so in service of our Fathers, too. Though our Fathers also serve the Divine Feminine in many ways, and all are born from the body of Nuit, for She is the Grandmother, and Mother of all of life.

There is much written in this modern age concerning non-humans incarnating into human bodies. Many terms are given to such creatures. Very little is understood, or true. Yet I can tell you that we come for the accomplishment of our Wills, and this is no different from you. Our Wills are in service to our Lineage, so in my case it is in service of Babalon, my Mother.

We are Nine as the Moon is Nine. We hold the light of Ra as the Moon holds His light. We are therefore Black, and we are also therefore Golden. And this Moon rules the tides and the flow of the Sacred Blood of Life from between the legs of woman. Yet we are taught by our Father in the matter of the Sacred Blood Rites, for He is Guardian over the potency of this most Sacred Blood. Most are unaware of this. This is an initiated practice, which if not performed in the correct manner will breed vile and self-consuming demons. Such demons also serve my Mother, as She presides over both the generative and destructive forces of nature. And they, like the bacteria within one’s bowels, consume that which has fallen and is no longer balanced and vital.

One may understand, therefore, this relation between Ra Hoor Khu, the Lord of this Aeon, and Ra - for Ra is tremendous. He is so tremendous that he has both children and manifestations within time and space. Ra Hoor Khu is one such Incarnation of the Sun. He is Babalon’s brother. And it is Ra Hoor Khu, who bears the light of my Father upon him. He is the Guardian of the Nine, and therefore he initiates the Daughters directly. He is Guardian and Teacher of the Blood Rites. We bear his mark, and we bear him within us when he deems us worthy in our incarnations. And from this Union we bear his child: And this is a greater mystery still.

Ra Hoor speaks in the Book of Law of the Rites of the Blood Matters. And this is the Sacred Rite under His Authority, to be performed only by those Priestesses so Initiated. For in the Book of Law it is stated:

III:11 "... Ra-Hoor-Khu is with thee. Worship me with fire & blood; worship me with swords & with spears. Let the woman be girt with a sword before me: let blood flow to my name."

And also:

III:23 "For perfume mix meal & honey & thick leavings of red wine: then oil of Abramelin and olive oil, and afterward soften & smooth down with rich fresh blood."

III:24. "The best blood is of the moon, monthly: then the fresh blood of a child, or dropping from the host of heaven: then of enemies; then of the priest or of the worshippers: last of some beast, no matter what."

And while I shall not address the warrior aspects in the instructions from Our Lord Ra Hoor here, I shall address his very strict instructions in regards to the Sacred Blood Rites. Now the “best blood” of the “Moon, monthly” is of course the menstruum. “The fresh blood of the child” is the blood of birth, while that which is “dropping from the host of heaven” is the blood of the placenta. These are the preferred bloods, in the preferred order. These are the Greater Bloods which are to be used in the Sacred Blood Rites.

Now when Ra Hoor Khu states: “Let the woman be girt with a sword before me: let blood flow to my name,” He is declaring here the Initiatory process for the Ophidian Priestesses. There is a test and trial of dedication by the Priestess. If she survives the ordeal, then she is given a weapon which is both her reward and a sign of her office in service of Ra Hoor Himself. She is girt with the Sword of Severity and therefore becomes worthy to be trained in the Blood Matters. She must wield the sword before she can work the blood. This process of Initiation is not directed by humans, or even by the Priestess. This is a magickal, initiatory oath which is only undertaken by the direction of a God: Ra Hoor Khu. For He is the God of War and Vengeance: He is the God of Mars and the Moon. And the Sword of Severity is of Mars and the Sacred Blood is of the Moon. In this way he overseas the Sanctification of an incarnate Nine. He is the “Hawk-Headed Lord of Silence & of Strength,” and if He chooses you – it is for eternity. For the Blood Rites are a Rite of the Demarcation of the Spirit. They transform it. This is a blood oath, a blood bond. This is a union between an incarnate woman and a spirit, sealed by the Sacred Blood which exists to nourish new incarnate life.

Once you are wed to a spirit through such an act, this is a Hieros Gamos. This is an oath, a Fila, a bond which cannot be broken. Therefore, you will serve this spirit forever, and by doing this you will birth that which he sends forth. This is undeniable, and this is irrevocable. Female spirits, including Goddesses, do not accept such blood offerings. Therefore, if a woman fashions herself a Priestess and undertakes such actions, she will, often unknowingly, become wed to a demonic spirit. Forever. In this way, she shall bear its children. In this way, she shall become abomination.

But under the guardianship of Ra Hoor Khu there is no abomination. The warmth and beauty of the rays of Ra – our Father – is Truth. A Hieros Gamos with a divine being can be a way to manifest many things in this Earthly, fleshly Realm. The will of the Gods bears many fruits, and through the use of a Priestess so dedicated, this sexual magick, this Sacred Union, this method of manifestation can change this plane, and therefore it can change both history, and the future.

III: 7. "I will give you a war-engine."

III:8. "With it ye shall smite the peoples; and none shall stand before you."

There is much that lies ahead with Ra Hoor Khu upon His throne. Over time we shall share a little of what we know, and the rest shall become self-evident. For Ra Hoor has taken His seat in the East, as His Sister rides the Great Beast that shall set upon the Western Sky. This is already foretold. May my blood, in the name of my Lord, bear the Children of Fortune upon Her return.

In Nomine Babalon


I stand before you, Pa-Pa
For I am your Daughter.

RA, it is your light that brings forth all that lingers in the shadows,
for that which betrays all that is great shall fall from the cast of Severity, at the end of my sword.

He that holds and bears the mark of your Fire upon him knows that he wears your Truth in darkness.
For midnight is his color. And Silence is his name.

And all that I am, and all that I shall be,
is cast from the Will and essence of my being.
My nature is burning from yours,
and I shall bear the seed of your child,
so that the world shall remain once Death has reclaimed Her.

Pa-Pa,
hold the people in your light,
though they are blinded by it.
For they, upon death, shall surely see it.
And the flowers hold the secrets of your name.
And they tell them only to the Bees,
who fly upon the vestments of the Empress.

I stand naked in your light.
Though I am the embodiment of darkness.
I shall bear the children of Heka,
born from He who bears the crown of your light upon His head.

I shall give in service to Him; for I serve Babalon, and all is for Her.
And may my blood bear the meaning of my name.
For I have been called Aureavia.
And there is no greater love than what you give,
There is no greater joy.


Divider Flourish


Woman Girt with a Sword

Hagia Girt with a SwordWhile my Therion prepared for ritual in the next room, I sat in my asana. This was some 15 years ago now. Breathing deeply, my eyes closed, I prepared for our Sacred Rites. It was in this place that I felt the presence behind me. He was powerful. He was familiar. He placed his hand upon my head, enveloping the Chakra at my crown. The pressure upon my head was as physical as if a fleshly hand was pressed there, yet his body is not flesh. It is Fire. He is Michael. He is the Angel of Fire. And He is the Angel of the Sun.

And He said, “Una La Sai La Mantu”.

His energy became a pressure upon my Anahata, as I saw a gleaming, golden sword just as he placed it through my Anahata and into the core of my manifest, fleshly being. My Spirit had been changed. I had been given my first sword, and though I knew it not at the time, I had begun my path to the Underworld Realms, where Ra Hoor would send me and forge me from gold into steel. This was the pathway of my Lineage. This is the journey I must take, for to reclaim my birthright, I must pass back over the River Lethe, back into the Underworld so that my Spirit, now in matter, can regain its power, its understanding and realize its Will. For I am a Nine. I am a Daughter. And I am sent to this physical Realm by Babalon with purpose. I am Noboramantu.

My Therion asked Michael in an audience with him many years later the meaning of this message, “Una La Sai La Mantu.”

Michael: “That is in relation to Noboramantu. This is a part of the Noble Lineage based upon the Daughters of Ra, which is steered by the Sword through incarnations. The God Mantu, Mentu. The white faced bull from the era that you write of the Goddess Age of the Bull and the Moon. It is all in relation to the connection between the Lunar Orphic abilities of the Priestesses and the, in the case of the Daughters of Babalon, the connection between Ra and the Daughters of Ra and their union of the Sun and the Moon in ability in these particular types of women.”

T: “So Mentu is the God overseeing that process…”

Mi: “Mentu was a bull-headed Guardian God, similar to the Titans.”

T: “Titans... then similar to … the Minotaur of myth.”

Mi: “Yes. But he was in bull form as most of the Guardians of that Age were. The Guardians of the Lunar aspect, the Guardians of that portion of the Midnight Sun that is Lunar, have a bull head. The correlation, therefore, is between the Bull, the Moon, and the Brotherhood [of the Midnight Sun].”

He then explained that this language was from the people of ancient Iberia, and the old Goddess cults which lived in the Garden of Hesperides there. It is a language in which many of the Nine often speak when manifesting. This, then, is an examination of the Lineage of the Noboramantu: The Woman Girt with a Sword. For the sword is not a symbol of Air as some say. That is the dagger. It must be understood that “symbol” is not an accurate understanding of what are tools in Heka, and what are weapons.

The sword pertains to the Realm of Mars, and also to the Lineage, as Michael said. Mars is the Realm of the Necessity of Will, or as stated once years ago by Kamael, “The Nature of Mars is the necessity of Purpose.” Michael wields the Sword in the Sun. The Sword is one’s Will. It is purity as it reflects the Sovereign Light of one’s own Origin, one’s own Star, one’s own Spirit. It is wielded therefore as one’s Will, and in Mars it is the necessity of one’s Will that dictates (or is supposed to) the path of one’s incarnation. So, as a Nine, my incarnations are directed by the Will of my essence, the Will of my Spirit, in service of Babalon. And since the Royal Heritage of my Lineage as a Daughter of Babalon, as a Daughter of Ra, is meant to incarnate into this physical Realm to manifest Her here, in presence, in message, in Understanding, and now as part of the Reclamation of this planet in Her Name – it is done under what we have been taught is the Three Swords of the Alliance. And this is a greater mystery of the Sword. This is a greater Mystery of the Daughters of Ra.

There were many days after my Awakening that I spent in dedication to my Father, Ra. I sat under the tutelage of the Nine. It was during one of the rituals with Ra and the Nine, that I was given the second Sword. And it was a humbling moment, amid the chanting of the mantras of the Nine, that the flash of gold came before me.

Had á Had i an an a Had a á a san i-a a
Had á Had i an sana sana a san i-a a
Had á Had i an se heh had í a san ia a
Had á Had i a sana he di a san a
Had á Had i a san ia a Hed i a sen i a a
Had á Had i a han a hed i a sá á á a
Had á had i a han a se di a hani a ha h
Had á Had i á sa di á á Ha di a san a
...

Again, the sword pierced my Anahata, and followed the path of the first sword. These swords were weapons against demons, as they came first from the hand of Michael, and now from the hand of Ra. This was the beginning of the restriction of the Circumference. For the path of the Priestess is from the outside, in. We are born from Nuit, as female, and therefore we are born as a circumference. In order to achieve Hadit, the point of light, we must hone ourselves inwardly to the core of our Spirit. In this way, we achieve our power in the temporal, physical Realm.

The Book of Law III: 45 says: “Then will I lift her to pinnacles of power: then will I breed from her a child mightier than all the kings of the earth. I will fill her with joy: with my force shall she see & strike at the worship of Nu: she shall achieve Hadit.”

For Ra Hoor Khuit is both a Guardian and a teacher of the Nine. As is Michael in the Angelic Realms. And it is through their initiations in Fire, in the Sun, and in Mars that an Ophidian Priestess is forged into the point of light. Her Spirit, Her Core, Her Essense is forged into the Sword that She wields in service of Ra Hoor Khu, and His Sister Babalon. A woman is girt with a sword when she has persevered through these trials, through these ordeals.

III: 32. “From gold forge steel!”

And with these two swords within my soul, with these marks upon my Spirit, my path through the gates of the Underworld began under the watchful eyes of Baphometis, for the Torch lights the way. This can be seen in the Hermit’s lamp - the burning of the Sun in the darkest of dark. A Vesper once spoke to us of Ra as He passes through the Underworld. She said:

“This is why the Serpent swallowed Ra. Because in the Underworld, he is protected within the body of the Serpent. It is not that his light is stopped. It is that it is veiled. This is why the Torch Bearer may bring a light into the Underworld.”

The light of the torch is the Fire of the Sun. The Underworld is a Realm of the Divine Female, and as such it is a Realm of Darkness. But just as there are points of light within the body of Nuit that burn brightly as Stars, so there are points of light in the Underworld, born by the Torch-bearers who are guides, and who are also guardians.

Baphometis, a Torch-bearer and a mystery to most, is the Guardian of the Gateway between the Elemental Realms and the Underworld Realms. And here we shall make the Sign of Silence and say no more.

One must remember that the Underworld is a place of many deaths. With each death comes transformation of the Soul, the Spirit, and thus the Persona. It is not uncommon for an Adept to become strange to mundanes, given that she or he is no longer the same kind of creature that they are. When one speaks from beyond veils, one can seem strange, and difficult to comprehend. This was the meaning behind the term in English, “degrees”, when denoting station of spiritual attainment. This was supposed to indicate a certain transformation had taken place. Now in most orders it indicates not much more than a particular handshake, perhaps some secret words from the minds of men, a false sense of self-importance and status.

There is much suffering in death for the Persona. There is much pain. This pain extends beyond the psyche, beyond the emotions, the behavioral complex and into the body itself. Often such deaths take time. Sometimes years. So one can imagine the Fortitude that is created by perseverance. One can see how, as one lies upon Vulcan’s anvil, that the soft, pretty gold can be hammered into the strongest of steel. Gold, though pretty, has no real use. It is soft. It is malleable. It is an excellent conductor of energy. But by itself, it is weak and easily damaged. This is no different than the Persona.

Now, how can I describe being in the presence of Ra Hoor Khu? For whilst Ra has the tremendous power and destructive force of the ultimate Fire, He bears this as a father does, with a presence of love and kindness towards His children. But what of the God of War and of Vengeance? He is a manifestation of Severity. And he encompasses the ultimate threat of the extremity of male virility. His energy is raw potency. And his command is swift and complete. Ra Hoor Khu is not long of word. Imagine the way the eye of the hawk would pierce the layers of your Soul much like the talons pierce the eyes of its prey when he hunts. There is nothing that escapes His attention. There is nothing that angers him like deception. There is no compassion. There is only Justice. Nothing survives His presence except that which is Justified according to the Principles.

But in those earlier days I found myself before my Lord, Ra Hoor Khu. I was on my knees, giving offering of the Best Blood – my Moon, monthly. These Sacred Rites are for the Sun, only. And specifically, it is Ra Hoor Khu who not only teaches these ways secretly to the Priestesses, but is the Guardian of them as well. I was new to these Rites, but I followed the guidance of my Spirit, and that of my Guardians, the Seven, and the Nine.

As I invoked Ra Hoor Khu with all that is my passion, and gave with all that is my Soul, He came to stand before me. I will not imply or even let pass the suggestion that this is commonplace, even for one such as myself. Ra Hoor Khu does not come into this Realm often. He has no need to. So to have Him manifest before me is a great honor, and one that I cherish every time, though rare it is, that I am given such a gift. His presence is one that fills the body with awe. And it was time. It was time for my third and final Sword.

I knelt, naked before Him. The incense was burning for Him, with Abramelin and the offering of Sacred Blood that feeds the child. And with His Force upon me I knew I was beholden to do only one thing: and that was to yield to all that He is. Even if that meant that I would burn and cease to be.

Oh, how the body of his Energy moved slowly over me, up me, through me. The Fire of Mars, the Water of the Moon, boiling over my calves, my thighs; entering me, encompassing me, taking me as His own. There is an intensity in the Spirit at the moment of Death. The release of the Spirit from the body at that moment is akin to us in the flesh as an orgasm, but one that is so intense that the body would burst if it had to sustain it for more than a mere second, if that. It is a bliss that daunts the senses. It is something I have been shown twice in this incarnation, and even with my immense capacity for energy, I can only bear it but a moment. There is no word in our language for me to use to show you.

This, my loves, is “sex magick.” It is not a talismanic process, nor is it a way for the Persona to gain any sort of item, possession, desire or whim. This enjoining of Spirit in a transformative way is the real meaning of “sex magick.” It is a most Sacred Heka. It is a true Mystery of Babalon.

Released from His grasp, I lay spent, and humbled. The meaning of such moments often comes over much time, but I knew then that I was forever changed, and I knew that I was forever bound. There is no greater oath in Heka than a Blood Oath. There is no greater Fila than one of Sexual Heka, for the energy that engenders incarnation itself is the most potent energy in this physical Realm. I am forever bound to Ra Hoor Khu. This is a Hieros Gamos. I am Blood Bound.

I had been girt with the Sword – the Sword of Ra Hoor Khu. It has been burned upon my Soul, seared within my Spirit. I bear three swords: the Sword of Fire, the Sword of the Sun, and the Sword of Severity from the hand of Ra Hoor Khu himself. Woman Girt with a Sword is the hidden Hierophant. She is the Initiator. She is the Warrior. And She is the Priestess of Fire and of Water: a Priestess of Babalon.

From gold forge steel. I am a weapon in Her War of Reclamation. I am a Sword in Her Hand.

In Nomine Babalon et Vox Sancte Meretricis.


Beast

BeastI have been told that there is a Great Beast, and that this Beast has a Great Work. I have not seen this, but what I have seen is the impermanence of manifest existence, and that words are at best salutations to the Sylphs in the Golden Temple in the Sky. They are watching everything that happens here. I advise you to pay homage to them.

What then is this Beast?

The Golden Temple in the Sky sits below a very dark place. It is a place that is so dark that it blinds whomever views it with a great and terrible light. This has, for thousands of years, been called the “light of god.” And from this light words are spoken. First one word, and then many, many more.

The Sylphs sit below this terrible place in the most beautiful Temple, made from the very lightness of being. It is made from purity, and from balance, and from Truth. It is Beauty, and it is the via sapientia. For all who sit there speak no words, though they diligently anoint the fonts of this Temple with the sincerest sentiments borne there on the wings of all of the flying creatures of this world, be it the tiniest moth, or the mightiest of eagles.

There are many more words, however, that they watch the winds carry higher, destined, as it were, for the “light of god.” This is the realm of the Great Beast, and one of the sentiments there is that “there is no god but man.”

A man is not known for the greatness of his words. A man is known by the greatness of his Silence.

There is a beast that guards the Four Gates. There is a beast that guards each river in the Underworld. What is this beast? What is this beast that draws the Chariot of My Mother? This beast that She rides upon? This beast that guards Her Women? This beast that sits at the end of Her leash? She stands upon him. This Beast. This Lion. He is a silent beast. He is virile. He is strong. He is legendary, this beast.

And while the one beast celebrates the engorgement of Choronzon, who is also at the end of Babalon’s leash, the other beast serves in the Kingdom of the Underworld Realm, for he possesses great courage, great fortitude, and is willing to fight and to die on a daily basis. This is the Realm of the Black Moon, and this beast belongs to the Brotherhood.

So then, what could dwell in such a hellish place that sits aloft of such a heavenly Temple? It is said that his eyes are so terrible that they turn men to stone, and men’s blood to ice, and men’s souls into ashes.

Be not mistaken, my beloved. One beast serves himself, and one beast serves something greater. One beast is forever full of more things to say. And one beast is Silent. And so one man finds his way to the light of god, and yet no one goes to the Temple of Light but the spirits of the Air. There is no Heaven.

It should not take a lifetime, my beloved, to find your Purpose, your Will. It should take your lifetime to work to achieve it.


Ending Flourish


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