The Evolution of Monadh-Frith

She walked in the forest, her eyes scanning the forest floor for an appropriate place for her fire. There was a rustling to her lower right. A baby deer came hurtling through the underbrush. It was night, and she walked by the light of a candle.

Soon she came to an abandoned camp, from a homeless person. There was a blue tarp strung between the trees, a fire pit, and a lean –to.

In the dead of night, she cleared the remnants of the person who had been there before, sweeping the forest floor with a young branch that had many leaves and putting all objects into the fire. She opened her pack, laid out a blanket and placed the candle on the lean-to wall. It was time to make a cup of strong black spicy tea.

The forest at night was alive with the yellow eyes of creatures. As she sipped her chai, a small piece of pine tree fell softly to her shoulder, a blessing imparted by the forest breeze.

She had not brought any food with her, only cigarettes and the strong tea. She lit one now.

In the silence that the carpeted forest floor brought, her mind was free to wander at will.

Six Years Later

She lit the beeswax candle reverently, her feet padding around on the bare forest ground that constituted the floor of her cabin in the woods. The walls were lined as an apothecary; balms, ointments, and extracts on the wall. She had her suribachi and surigoshi full of ayhuasca and in the corner of the cabin was a small carved pipe full of the blue salvia that lined the path to her door. Six years of research from a portable hotspot next to the laptop had educated her mind to the point of saturation, and she was well versed before the self-imposed retreat had begun. She was humming a song to God when it hit her. It was time to find her padawan. Someone who had just begun what Joseph Campbell termed the “hero’s journey”. She began to pack the small pouches that hung from her waist, and a larger pack that fit over her cloak. For the first time in six years, she considered shoes. They had to be here, somewhere, the shoes she had worn into the forest. . .

She wanted to depart in the light of dawn, she brought the enthogenic herbs, wore layers, and a small vial of her own menstrual blood hung around her neck. Besides a canteen of pure spring water, a loaf of bread, some venison jerky she had made herself, and a block of cheese, she brought little else.

It took a full day to reach civilization, but once there, it was a large city that had often supplied her needs while cloistered with the creatures of the woods. Right at the gate to the city, she saw another small spotted blur go by. It was a favorable omen, marking her departure from the forest cathedral. She entered the city via a highway overpass that had become an arbor. Soon she came to a small outdoor café via a bridge that had murals painted on the wooden slats. She sat at one of the café’s wrought iron tables and chairs. She brought out a small portion of her food, and drank a bit from the canteen. She had enough two dollar bills and Sacagawea coins to buy something from the café, but she had tired of them hawking their watery poison.

It was a short walk from the metropolis to the sandy confines of the beach. She headed down the main drag practicing invisibility. There was a method to tone down one’s aura to an unnoticeable state, where even her wrinkled visage blended in as just another passerby . . . The sand crunched underfoot, giving a little and sliding her foot far behind her. She sat, gazing at the moon, Diana, and the Dog Star, Sirius. It was what she had called a “fingernail moon” as a child, first quarter.

As she had known there would be, a light appeared next to the star, approaching quickly and weaving in the antigravity slip near the Earth’s surface. Soon a beam of light was overhead, the moon barely visible in the brightness of the beam’s glare. A small, slight, electric type humming was heard from the silent craft, and a door opened from the base of the disc. A tall humanoid hybrid walked forward onto the sand, a male, who opened his palm in a universal gesture symbolic of meaning no harm.

“So you have arrived, Padawan.” She said in greeting.

“Indeed I have, Crone.” He said in return.

“My name, to you, youngling, is Monadh-Frith.”

He bowed his head to her, and introduced himself. “I am henceforth to be called, ‘Lazareth’”

Their time together was well spent, as Lazareth had knowledge of the stars and Monadh-Frith of the Earth. Lazareth was young and impulsive, however, and the Crone patient and slow. This dichotomy separated their relationship into its proper place, mentor and student, rather than an even exchange between peers.

Lazareth took to the apothecary cabin well, and furthermore began to make the runs to the metropolis. This left Monadh –Frith free to work on botanical formulas, but Lazareth quickly began to fear for her mind.

His knowledge differed from hers, as where he was from, one worked with subtle energies more than physical substances. He could understand her use of herbs to practice spells and magick, but from his point of view, if one imbued the herb with the proper intent, it did not matter which herb one used. A spell that called for mandrake and rosemary, for instance, could easily be done (in his head) with any herbs available, as long as one consecrated the herb for the purpose one intended. As much as the Crone reiterated the importance of the proper herb (she always said that the collective consciousness was involved, that the wisdom of the ancients had to be practiced the same way it had been for centuries), Lazareth could not see the truth in her statements. Suppose he had a banishing herb, and he consecrated it for abundance, would not the type of herb become irrelevant? He could not understand her compulsive need for accuracy and tradition.

Lazareth began to experiment on his own. He prepared a smoking mixture for her pipe. Instead of psychoactive mushrooms and salvia, as she would have done, he mixed a benign mushroom and a different strand of salvia (red instead of blue). He looked carefully into the aura of the proper plants and by passing his hands slowly over the herbs and fungus, he fashioned an aura similar on the inactive plants. He shaped the colors with sound, singing and humming, placing his tongue on the roof of his mouth in the intervals of silence. In his area of the cosmos, it was well recognized that when physical, certain postures begat certain states of mind, and placing the tongue on the roof of one’s mouth was almost universally recognized to silence the inner voice. When he had finished, he placed the mixture in the brass singing bowl she kept near her carved pipe by her rocking chair. The next time she took it out, he was going to scrutinize her every behavior.

Chapter Two

“Tastes different,” she said, making an annoying ticking sound with her tongue and teeth. “Why don’t you smoke with me this time?” She had never offered her smoking mixture to him before, and although it had been easily available, he had never tried it. With trepidation, he sat down in a submissive position on a floor pillow next to her rocker. She passed the pipe; he took a long expert drag, like she always did. Immediately he sputtered and coughed, tasting the salvia and the mushroom on the back of his throat, his head surrounded in a cloud of the burning mixture’s smoke.

The next hit, he decided, would be a smaller one, but at the moment she was smoking from the pipe. She winked at him, long lashes slowly moving down to her cheek, it struck him that she looked exactly like the moon, for a split second she looked extremely dark natured and young. She smiled, and instead of her usual crow’s feet, he saw the muscles under her eyes raise and make her eyes narrow, the eyes themselves twinkling with wisdom, humor and life force. He realized she had thrown glamour at him, and the knowledge of this fact, as the connection was made psychically, and the realization reached simultaneously with her knowledge that he knew what she was doing, made him crack up in peals of laughter. He laughed until he had no breath, he laughed some more, and then suddenly it was funny that he was going to die from laughing, and although still laughing, he feared for his life. She was handing him the pipe, and her colors were bright and fluorescent, her purple velvet dress opulent and expensive, and the diamond in the ring on her finger refracting a thousand rainbows at the walls of the cabin. “Your turn.” She said soberly and suddenly she was back to normal, the crinkly old Crone, this sobered him as well and his laughter slowly faded into nothing but an “Hmmmm,” that was falling unbidden from his mouth.

He took his second hit, a miniscule bit of smoke for the back of his throat and lungs. He held it in, and exhaled slowly, even adding a rebellious smoke ring. He watched the ring rise to the ceiling and suddenly he realized the consensual reality of the salvia and mushroom mixture. It occurred to him that salvia allowed one to fold the space time continuum in order to quickly make realizations that normally wouldn’t happen for years of linear time and experience. He also realized that there was a price to pay for these realizations, an accelerated aging process, and a process of the breaking down of the physical body into decay and degradation. It occurred to him as well that Monadh-Frith had mastered the folding of the space time continuum into an art, and had simply reversed the coordinates to make herself appear younger. She had folded time like one would make an origami swan; actually reverting back to her younger self for a moment . . . the way she would be had she never smoked the salvia in the first place. So she was not truly a Crone in linear time, it was only the price she paid for smoking her mixture.

The Crone read his mind easily, laughing to herself. “So you have mastered not only the aura of the smoke, but the underlying truth of the price one pays for smoking it. Pretty good for bunk salvia and a mushroom more suited for the stewpot than my bowl.” She took her singing bowl to the fire and dumped his mixture in. “You should probably step out to the garden and collect some mint for our tea while this burns, as it has absolutely no effect on me, and seems to have the opposite effect on you, your mind is as cloudy as this room,” she admonished, dismissing Lazareth with a wave of her hand.

The duped mixture burned, filling her modest cabin with smoke, and Monadh-Frith chuckled softly to herself as Lazareth collected the mint. She prayed that the sharp tang of the night air would sober his mind, clear his lungs, and return him to the present timeframe. She knew Lazareth was stronger than most humans on Earth, due to his celestial nature, but she feared he may slip into an alternate timeline. So she chanted a familiar tune, Brahmn’s Lullaby, and busied herself boiling the spring water for tea.

Lazareth turned to enter the cabin, and suddenly it was not there. He stood, mystified, with the mint still clutched in his right hand. Where the cabin had stood was a blue tarp, a fire pit and a lean –to. A homeless shelter. He looked to the left and right, but still there was no cabin.

Lazareth realized he must be in an alternate universe. He sat down and proceeded to clear the vibes of the person who had been there before. He found a blanket and a candle (it had gone out) inside of the lean-to, and as it was late, he decided to sleep there.

After many days of squatting at the spot in the forest, Lazareth got used to the idea that the Crone was not going to reappear. He had very little knowledge of the forest, and Earth botanicals in general. In her memory, he decided to educate himself in Traditional ways, and not revert to his astro-magick of manipulating energy fields of plants. Six years went by in this manner, Lazareth returning to the metropolis (as he knew the way) to study at the city’s public library. He brought the books to the forest shelter, and soon exhausted the library’s shelves of botanical knowledge. It was on one of these trips to the library, as he was crossing the mural bridge, that he saw a familiar looking, attractive lady sitting with her brother at the wrought iron tables. She was speaking with him in an undertone, so although he normally would not do this, he used some off world techniques to sharpen his hearing. It became apparent that they were speaking of a six year plan for the woman. She told her brother, as he wrote it with a stylus into a hand held device that she was going on a retreat into the forest to study herbs with her laptop and portable hotspot. She was going to leave her previous life behind. Lazareth was fascinated with the woman’s beauty, he associated it with Diana, the moon goddess, and became immediately infatuated . . . he was in love.

He turned the corner and headed down the street to the library. She was simply unapproachable.

He returned through the freeway overpass arbor to the shanty. A small young fawn passed by as he sat at his fire pit, the movement catching his eye. When he turned to watch it go, he was surprised to be looking right into the brown eyes of the lady from the coffeehouse. They greeted each other soundlessly and she sat down at the fire pit and lit a cigarette.

Lazareth and the young Monadh-Frith fell in love instantly. There was something “right” about their relationship. They spent the next six years learning together the way of the wise. They built a cabin together, felling the trees for it themselves, and sealing the logs with tar to make it waterproof for winter. Their lovemaking knew no bounds, as only monogamous relationships can evolve to the point of elevating lovemaking to an art.

But one fine evening, when the air outside had the sharp tang of autumn’s return, as Lazareth was collecting mint for their evening tea from their garden, he pivoted to return to the cabin, experiencing a strong déjà vu. As he crossed the threshold, he entered the original timeline where Monadh-Frith was a Crone, and when he entered the cabin, she stood with her back to him, singing and humming Brahmn’s Lullaby. He did not need her to turn around to know in his heart that she was old, and he simply returning from her time space continuum fold.

She said, with her back still to him, “I spent six years learning the forest alone, you spent six years learning the forest alone, we spent six years together combining our knowledge of the plants, and now you return. Do not try to trick me again.”

Lazareth wondered if they were drinking mint from the parallel universe, and decided to forego the tea that night. He went to bed with a strange ache in the God center of his humanoid brain.

In the morning, it was decided that they were to depart.

Chapter Three

In the morning, it was decided that they were to depart. Lazareth and Monadh-Frith both knew that “Noah’s Arc” was to return, it was only a matter of time. Monadh-Frith had had dreams of an alien ship, before Lazareth appeared on the beach that night. She knew from her dreams that alien ships carried only water, “Aquafina” to be exact, but beyond that, she had never explored the corridors of an alien ship. She had a slight knowledge of how they flew, from her research. They created a gravity slippage, sucking the gravity into a vortex created by an asymmetrical design based on Tesla’s motor/generator/alternator. If one left one magnet out of a Tesla motor, the poles of the magnets would create a vortex through which the ship could slide on the temporary gravity displacement. So it was with a mixture of excitement and happiness that she accepted Lazareth’s invitation to return to his home planet on the return of Noah’s Arc. This was the ship he had originally disembarked to become her Padawan.

They walked the hike to the beach quite often, scanning the midsummer skies for Noah’s Arc. They would camp on the sand, only to fall asleep reluctantly closing their eyes, after watching the night skies. Waking up in the morning without being beamed aboard the alien ship would have been disappointing to average people, but Monadh-Frith and Lazareth were extremely patient by nature.

So it was with surprise one day, as they left the double doors of the Public Library that they bumped into another humanoid hybrid like Lazareth. She was tall and Nordic looking, and immediately they both heard without words, the word “Salutations” in their heads. She was standing next to the outdoor area of the library, the stone benches and gargoyles of the outer courtyard. She stared directly into their eyes with the wet dark eyes of an offworlder.

“Noah’s Arc is here, I suggest you follow me.” She said in a commanding voice, entirely outwardly silent, completely in their heads again.

Monadh-Frith returned her books in the outdoor deposit and stood grinning her squinty eyed grin at Lazareth. Lazareth said aloud, “You will have to leave the known behind, “ to the Crone. She nodded her agreement, and they both turned to follow the female humanoid.

To their surprise, she led them to the forest, not the beach. When questioned why, she thought-spoke that the daylight would not hide a ship on the beach, but the forest accepted everyone.

The monumental moment (for Monadh-Frith) came; the ship appeared below the tree line, within the vicinity of the overpass arbor. Instead of lowering the door, like Lazareth had appeared to her, she was bathed in the tingling light of the beam, her body disintegrated, passing through the walls of the disc, and reintegrated inside the ship.

She was standing in Noah’s Arc’s botanical gardens. She looked around, spotting several species she was familiar with, and realized that the aptly named ship was carrying Earth’s endangered species of plants, several thousand clones of each one. The garden within the ship seemed to stretch so far, she could make out a horizon in the distance. Lazareth tapped her shoulder when he reappeared within the ship next to her and led her to the genetics laboratory.

Monadh-Frith was amazed to see fetal hybrids in “jars” lining the walls of the genetics lab. They were alive, she noticed from the corner of her eye. The aliens were cultivating hybrids as well as plants, and she wondered what types of DNA they considered endangered, what types would Noah’s Arc preserve? She also wondered how they had gotten a hold of their samples.

The female humanoid appeared next to them then, and Monadh-Frith smiled at her in greeting.

“You must put your body in what would appear to be a tomb to you, on the ship, in order to visit our home planet.” She thought spoke to Monadh-Frith.

Lazareth quickly jumped in, an expert at the thought speaking. Monadh –Frith wondered if he had the ability to speak to the female without herself hearing.

“Our home planet is Uranian in nature, although at a star system far from here. The beings where I am from do not take physical form, like yours on Earth. You will have to leave your body behind on the ship in order to visit the An tares solar system,” said Lazareth.

“I assume you are familiar with out of body travel?” said the female humanoid.

Monadh-Frith hesitated. “I am quite lucid when I dream, if that is what you mean?”

“Lazareth will be your guide; he will follow you if you get lost. I am to be called; I guess the English equivalent would be ‘Stella’. I will be your ambassador on our planet. It will take some time to get there. I suggest you perfect you’re out of body traveling while in transit on the ship. Lazareth will show you your soma case.”

Monadh-Frith was dismissed. She and Lazareth walked slowly towards the rear of the ship.

“You must realize our people do not take a body unless they travel off of our home planet. From birth they are in an out of body state, and become experts by the coming of age stage. Your present knowledge would be typical of a ten year old on our planet. For we do not only practice while the physical body sleeps- one third of your life- we practice from birth. I will help you learn our ways; do not be afraid of the soma case. Your physical body will be preserved in a liquid, and all bodily systems will remain functioning. Your soul however will travel with mine. We cannot leave the ship until the ship is in the vicinity of our star system, as there are unexplored territories between your planet and ours, and it could be dangerous. So the first thing we must do is put your body to sleep and meet in a prespecified area of the ship in the non-physical or astral body. You might compare it to mutual dreaming, although we will never “wake up” as you know it, until your apprenticeship, Padawan (he said with humor) is done on my planet. “

The Soma Case was made out of a living acrylic, with fluid inside, cigar shaped and clear.

“Do I need to replenish first? “ said Monadh-Frith, wishing for a strong cup of spicy chai to calm her nerves. She wanted a bowl of her smoke.

“The liquid will provide your body all the nourishment it needs,” said Lazareth, “you need not be afraid to enter. However, you must remove your clothes, and slip out of your body immediately.”

Monadh-Frith took a deep breath, did as she was told, and clambered into the capsule.

Lazareth leaned over the Soma Case and produced a pill from the folds of his clothes.

“Stella told me this may help your transition a bit. After you take it, you must ‘drown’ yourself in the liquid. The pill will calm your instinctual survival instinct.”

She was surprised to find that the life liquid was warm. She placed the pill in her mouth and took a sip of the liquid. It tasted like ambrosia, which was not what she expected. Lazareth left the room, seemingly to give her privacy for her transition. She lay back in the ambrosia water. It was warm and she felt like she had never relaxed in her life before, her back aching, her neck sore, it felt so good to lay down and stretch out.

Her head must have slipped under water. Monadh-Frith prayed to an Earth God, the demiurge of Sophia, the creator of the physical plane, and opened her mouth to drown herself.

Chapter Four

Monadh-Frith’s demiurge must have smiled down upon her, because she rolled out of her body sideways quite easily and stood next to the Soma Capsule. Her physical body she gazed upon with a poignancy known only to those well versed in out of body experiences. It floated in the capsule, mouth slightly agape. The skin looked pink and healthy, and she noticed she had more silver in her hair than she remembered. The eyes were closed, and the face rested peacefully. It looked like she was sleeping, except for the liquid.

Lazareth re-entered the room. He did not acknowledge her astral body. He walked, in fact, right through it and closed the capsule’s lid. He proceeded to remove his robes, and place his body in the soma capsule at her feet. She noticed he did not pop a pill. He closed his own capsule. He did, however, a small movement similar to yoga on earth, placing his hands together at the fingertips, and touching them first to his heart, then his crown, and finally above his head. He relaxed in that position, “walk like an Egyptian”, and closed his eyes. She realized he was praying, and at this moment, realized simultaneously that he was aware of her astral body watching him. She heard the words in her head, but they were in his native language, unfamiliar syllables representing symbols, a poetic tongue, and she realized an archaic language even on his planet.

Lazareth exited through his third eye chakra. She saw his astral body momentarily as a glowing golden orb, but he immediately changed it to the Lazareth familiar form.

“And so we meet again, my Monadh-Frith.” He said taking her hand.

Lazareth was quite comfortable in his astral body, in fact, could take any form he wished by simply concentrating on it. Monadh-Frith, being new to this situation, had a fluctuating form, all her forms on Earth, from young to old. Lazareth decided to address her fluidity problem.

“Monadh-Frith, it is quite important to be able to shape shift, while non –physical, and this is more familiar to you as a dreamer. But myself, I believe in stalking as well. I use these terms to describe the fluidity associated with dreams, vs. the pinning down of the fluid associated with stalking. I suggest you start with a dream object. If you can maintain its form for one day, you will pass the test, and I will expect you to next pin down your astral form, before we get to An tares, an astral form of your choosing, how you would like to present yourself to my people.”

“What do you mean, Lazareth, by a ‘dream object’?”

“I mean something you create yourself. In a dream.”

The thought had never occurred to her, and then suddenly, she remembered. “I materialize cigarettes, when I need them, but I always pull them out of a purse, or backpack that I am carrying. I know if I search hard enough, I can produce one through the sheer act of knowing that it will be found.”

“Yes, Monadh, you said it well. ‘The sheer act of knowing’. This mental confidence is key to producing a dream object.”

Monadh-Frith remembered a dream object from a dream she had had long ago. It was a glass orb, a perfect sphere, forest green with gold filigree. She had caught it out of the corner of her eye, during an anxiety dream where she and her relatives were drowning in a sinking car within a lake. She knew that she could not make the orb appear out of thin air, so she sheepishly bent behind the soma cases and pulled with her hand from underneath them, the forest green sphere with gold filigree.

She held it up triumphantly for Lazareth to see. It changed in her hand into a kitten, which bounded away before changing into a cinnamon stick, and finally disappearing.

“Whoopsie,” she said with her now famous squinted eye grin, eyes sparkling.

Lazareth took a deep breath, and held his hand to his chin, thinking. “You must know without forgetting to know that the object will always be there, while simultaneously forgetting that the object did not ever exist before you created it. In this manner, you create a past for it, it always existed. Then and only then will the form maintain itself. “He sighed, slightly perturbed. “Monadh, one object is child’s play for my people. I have every confidence in your abilities, but to give you the full scope of this art, we have “maintainers” of our cities, on my planet. Their job is to maintain the form of our structures, literally blocks and blocks of buildings, artwork, sidewalks, sculpture and roads. They created the city, object by object, and maintain its form, changing it to more aesthetically pleasing on the suggestions of others or at their own whim, but may I stress here, maintaining every detail of a whole city through thought. Try again to produce your orb.”

Monadh-Frith was game. She reached under the soma cases, and since she had done it before, she “knew” she could produce it again . . . there it was, a forest green glass orb with gold filigree. She tucked it under her arm and knew it would be there. She tried to fool herself that it had never not been there. To her amazement, it stayed beneath her forearm. She inspected it, taking in every detail of the design.

“So I have to hold this orb all day?” she asked Lazareth.

“Maintain its form, and then we will work on your form. The one you are to present when you leave Noah’s Arc.”

“Wait, if I don’t sleep anymore, what’s a day?” she asked next.

“You will soon know what true rest from your ‘day’ is.” Said Lazareth.

Monadh-Frith loved looking in the botanical gardens of the ship, running her fingers over the different plants. She was sure to keep an eye on her orb, and so far it had become permanent. The botanical gardens had misters set on timers, and she was surprised to find out she could “feel” the mist when it came on. She longed to make her potions and extracts; she had always enjoyed the smell of certain herbs as they were crushed in the suribachi. It slowly occurred to her that Noah’s Arc had been to several water planets, not just Earth, as there were strains of plants unfamiliar to her. The command room was off limits, even to Lazareth, so she remained in the dark about how they flew. There were many, many other non –physical entities aboard the ship, and most of them did not choose a humanoid form. Lazareth and she used the soma case room as a meeting place, often she would return to walk in on strange scenes as Lazarus mingled among his people in the room. He told her of a union that they were invited to; two entities on the ship had decided to meld their souls into one to produce a double soul that would from then on never exist apart. It was like lovemaking and a marriage, but even more special as it was a union of souls, and everyone on the ship was invited.

Before then, however, Lazareth wanted to show Monadh-Frith what true rest was, as it had been a “day”.

“We are going to take a journey. You will not need your orb anymore.”

(Monadh was still carrying it around, and sighed a sigh of relief.) “Can I give it as a wedding present to the souls that are to be joined?”

“Place it next to the soma cases and we will see if it is still there after our journey. You will have to see if it maintains its existence on its own, if it is strong enough to exist without your awareness of it. In this journey you may take any form you wish, or allow your form to slide due to your reactions. We will rest and then meet back on the ship. Look at your physical body, study it well. You may be so disoriented, that you need to return to it, and ‘wake up’ to meet me again. I will be waiting in the soma room when you are ready to return. I am taking you to the well of souls.”

“You are taking me to the Oztar?” Monadh-Frith asked in wonder.

“Yes, to the body of Adam in some of your Earth religions, the ‘birdhouse’ in others.”

“You must follow me, in order to do that, we will hold hands and fly, so that you will be oriented, although we could just dissolve into it from any space, as there is no distance when one communicates with God. Do you know how to astral travel through solid matter, as some get stuck within the atoms of walls. . .”

Monadh-Frith had spent many hours traveling out of body on Earth, and nodded her consent.

She put the orb down (she kind of liked it by now, similar to a pet), and took Lazareth’s hand. They used their will to get off of the ground (this part was simple) and fly through the ceiling of the ship. Monadh was struck by the sheer number of stars in outer space.

They astral traveled, they flew through the stars. It was beautiful in the vacuum of space. There was a planet near, but Lazareth did not head towards it. It was orange, with clouds swirling on the surface and absolutely breathtaking.

The Oztar, or well of souls turned out to be on the other side of a black hole. As Lazareth explained it, the black hole sucked up the souls of the dead, they were transported through a wormhole (the “tunnel” people with near death experiences spoke of) and ejected out a white hole into the Seventh Heaven to be born again. Thus the “well of souls” was an integral part of reincarnation. To Monadh-Frith’s surprise, Lazareth said they were to travel through.

Chapter Five

They reached the event horizon of the black hole. Light was bending into it, being sucked in. Monadh-Frith wanted to hold her breath, instinctually, as if jumping into a whirlpool. Lazareth indicated that he would not go in until he received her ready signal. She thought of what he had said waited at the other end, it being motivation enough, she signaled Lazareth with a “come here” motion of her hand. As she stepped off of the edge of the event horizon, Monadh-Frith lost track of Lazareth. Time seemed to slow down, and she felt her astral body stretch and distort in a tremendous manner. Right when she felt like she had been “falling” forever, she reached the singularity and was spit into the wormhole. Like a cross between a roller coaster and a waterslide (with the promise of light at the other end), she rode the wormhole only to be distorted again before (finally) being spit out the white hole’s event horizon into Seventh Heaven.

Lazareth and Monadh-Frith stood in front of a plane of existence that looked like a horizontal sky. Lazareth bowed to the expanse of Infinity.

“Monadh-Frith, pay your respects, you are about to step out into the Seventh Heaven.”

She prostrated.

“I want to warn you that the Seventh Heaven is interpreted uniquely to each individual. I will see something entirely different than yourself.”

Monadh-Frith nodded, curious at the idea. She once again took Lazareth’s hand. He nodded his consent, and they stepped trepidatiously into Infinity.

The first thing Monadh-Frith noticed was a sharp intelligence, a vast knowing made of light. Infinity parted like two dimensional mist and her mind was infiltrated by a benevolent, yet knowing force. Although it did not speak, she realized her unspoken questions would and could be answered. As she wondered how she would interpret God, Heaven, and Everything, the mist coalesced into a scene. She stood in a vast plateau, wind blowing her skirt around her legs, and pushing the grain shoots over. From Nowhere, a man walked up. He looked like the typical Indian shaman, bright colored clothing, leather moccasin boots, feathers in long black hair, dark skin, crow’s feet. He did a little dance, humming and slapping his thighs to the beat for several minutes. An irish wishing well appeared next to him, wavering a little in the sunlight, like a mirage, before settling into itself. Still humming a melodious chant like drone, he took a single gourd from the many at his belt. He dipped the gourd into the well, and with movements made of tranquility, he removed another gourd from his belt, and poured from one gourd to the other. Then, dancing some more, increasing his tempo, he bent to pour both gourds on the ground, releasing what Monadh-Frith had knowledge of as soulmates to the Earth.

This peaceful scene touched Monadh-Frith deeply, and she knew it would be with her for the rest of her life.

But even as Monadh-Frith had this thought, she was suddenly on the Event Horizon of a different Black Hole, hurtling through the worm hole and stretching through another singularity only to be spit back out in space. Lazareth came trailing after.

“What did you see?” she asked him, hungry for a tale as colorful as her own experience.

Lazareth opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came out for a moment. When he did speak, it came out as one syllable for each paragraph of thought, disconnected word salad of a cacophony of sound. He was speaking in tongues. He remained in this state for quite awhile, and Monadh-Frith accommodated this experience, even when his eyes rolled up in his head. His arms were outstretched, palms up in a gesture similar to the way artist’s portray Christ during the transfiguration.

When he came out of it, Monadh-Frith laughed, “That hard to explain?” she winked.

Chapter Six

It soon became evident that Lazareth was not going to come out of it without “physical” contact, so Monadh-Frith touched his arm reverently. The next thing she knew, she was opening actual physical eyes in the soma capsule. She could feel her body about to sputter, cough and drown, so she rolled out sideways again. She stood next to the now-still body in the soma capsule and gazed upon it longingly. Never had she been out of body so long as to miss the wizened old thing, but she did now. Lazareth repeated the syllables she heard the last time he left his body, in her mind, and she saw the glowing gold orb leave from his physical third eye yet again. He stood next to her, settling into a ghostly apparition of the humanoid form.

“The union is about to begin. We had to return in the quickest manner possible. Sorry for the abrupt departure from the Oztar.”

“The wedding?”, said Monadh-Frith, glancing around for her pet sphere. It sat next to the soma cases as she marveled at her ability to maintain form.

“That is a quite simplistic description of what is about to take place, Monadh.” Said Lazareth.

Monadh-Frith decided to try on a new form for herself, to maintain it as well as the sphere. She chose an angelic pair of white feathered wings and carefully materialized them on her back. “I am ready.” She spoke aloud.

Lazareth took one look at the wings and decided to revert to his familiar golden orb. His people knew him in this form with much more familiarity.

The union took place in a hangar type area of the ship. The entire ship’s population were there, and although many of the forms were incomprehensible to Monadh-Frith’s terrestrial self, she made out quite a few familiar symbols. There were several different Egyptian ankh types, distinguishable by the color, or jewels encrusted upon the symbol, or auras around them. Another popular form for Lazareth’s people seemed to be the pyramid with the eye. A few female types chose wood nymph forms, and she made out a few kundalini snakes around a staff.

The union couple were two simple orbs like Lazareth. As they approached, music welled out of the walls of the ship, a complex melody similar to 16th century classical. The audience “applauded” silently, more of a strong feeling of respect for the ceremony that was about to begin. As all physical form is created with light waves and sound waves, when the actual union took place, not only did Monadh-Frith’s heart break with poignancy, but a third, separate form was created when the two orbs melded into one another. A many faceted sparking diamond type light form was created, refracting rainbows onto the crowd, and liquid rainbows danced above their heads and joined to finally settle on a double helix. The joined souls, now forever linked, spiraled their multicolored union into life. A very “loud” round of “applause”, the palpable appreciation spread throughout the hangar, and the union was complete. Monadh-Frith, being careful to maintain her wings, placed the orb on an altar table at the front of the room. A line of party goers were placing offerings there, so she was not out of line according to their traditions. Many gold coins, paper money, and rings were laid out on the altar, much incense was lit and a band started in with an Eastern Indian type influenced dance beat. The forms, rather than gyrating to the beat, to dance, changed their fluidity, expressing their joyousness in as many forms as possible, and the entire party was too much for Monadh-Frith’s Earthly mind to encompass, so she excused herself to retreat to the soma room.

Lazareth found her there. “Noah’s Arc is about to enter orbit around my planet. Have you realized the usefulness of stalking vs. dreaming when it comes to your astral body?” he asked.

“Apparently, fluidity of the astral body, on your planet, is not a slippage of concentration, as in my case, “ said Monadh-Frith, “ but an art form used for expression of emotion or mood.”

“Exactly.” Said Lazareth.

She walked in the forest, her eyes scanning the forest floor for an appropriate place for her fire. There was a rustling to her lower right. A baby deer came hurtling through the underbrush. It was night, and she walked by the light of a candle.

Soon she came to an abandoned camp, from a homeless person. There was a blue tarp strung between the trees, a fire pit, and a lean –to.

In the dead of night, she cleared the remnants of the person who had been there before, sweeping the forest floor with a young branch that had many leaves and putting all objects into the fire. She opened her pack, laid out a blanket and placed the candle on the lean-to wall. It was time to make a cup of strong black spicy tea.

The forest at night was alive with the yellow eyes of creatures. As she sipped her chai, a small piece of pine tree fell softly to her shoulder, a blessing imparted by the forest breeze.

She had not brought any food with her, only cigarettes and the strong tea. She lit one now.

In the silence that the carpeted forest floor brought, her mind was free to wander at will.

Six Years Later

She lit the beeswax candle reverently, her feet padding around on the bare forest ground that constituted the floor of her cabin in the woods. The walls were lined as an apothecary; balms, ointments, and extracts on the wall. She had her suribachi and surigoshi full of ayhuasca and in the corner of the cabin was a small carved pipe full of the blue salvia that lined the path to her door. Six years of research from a portable hotspot next to the laptop had educated her mind to the point of saturation, and she was well versed before the self-imposed retreat had begun. She was humming a song to God when it hit her. It was time to find her padawan. Someone who had just begun what Joseph Campbell termed the “hero’s journey”. She began to pack the small pouches that hung from her waist, and a larger pack that fit over her cloak. For the first time in six years, she considered shoes. They had to be here, somewhere, the shoes she had worn into the forest. . .

She wanted to depart in the light of dawn, she brought the enthogenic herbs, wore layers, and a small vial of her own menstrual blood hung around her neck. Besides a canteen of pure spring water, a loaf of bread, some venison jerky she had made herself, and a block of cheese, she brought little else.

It took a full day to reach civilization, but once there, it was a large city that had often supplied her needs while cloistered with the creatures of the woods. Right at the gate to the city, she saw another small spotted blur go by. It was a favorable omen, marking her departure from the forest cathedral. She entered the city via a highway overpass that had become an arbor. Soon she came to a small outdoor café via a bridge that had murals painted on the wooden slats. She sat at one of the café’s wrought iron tables and chairs. She brought out a small portion of her food, and drank a bit from the canteen. She had enough two dollar bills and Sacagawea coins to buy something from the café, but she had tired of them hawking their watery poison.

It was a short walk from the metropolis to the sandy confines of the beach. She headed down the main drag practicing invisibility. There was a method to tone down one’s aura to an unnoticeable state, where even her wrinkled visage blended in as just another passerby . . . The sand crunched underfoot, giving a little and sliding her foot far behind her. She sat, gazing at the moon, Diana, and the Dog Star, Sirius. It was what she had called a “fingernail moon” as a child, first quarter.

As she had known there would be, a light appeared next to the star, approaching quickly and weaving in the antigravity slip near the Earth’s surface. Soon a beam of light was overhead, the moon barely visible in the brightness of the beam’s glare. A small, slight, electric type humming was heard from the silent craft, and a door opened from the base of the disc. A tall humanoid hybrid walked forward onto the sand, a male, who opened his palm in a universal gesture symbolic of meaning no harm.

“So you have arrived, Padawan.” She said in greeting.

“Indeed I have, Crone.” He said in return.

“My name, to you, youngling, is Monadh-Frith.”

He bowed his head to her, and introduced himself. “I am henceforth to be called, ‘Lazareth’”

Their time together was well spent, as Lazareth had knowledge of the stars and Monadh-Frith of the Earth. Lazareth was young and impulsive, however, and the Crone patient and slow. This dichotomy separated their relationship into its proper place, mentor and student, rather than an even exchange between peers.

Lazareth took to the apothecary cabin well, and furthermore began to make the runs to the metropolis. This left Monadh –Frith free to work on botanical formulas, but Lazareth quickly began to fear for her mind.

His knowledge differed from hers, as where he was from, one worked with subtle energies more than physical substances. He could understand her use of herbs to practice spells and magick, but from his point of view, if one imbued the herb with the proper intent, it did not matter which herb one used. A spell that called for mandrake and rosemary, for instance, could easily be done (in his head) with any herbs available, as long as one consecrated the herb for the purpose one intended. As much as the Crone reiterated the importance of the proper herb (she always said that the collective consciousness was involved, that the wisdom of the ancients had to be practiced the same way it had been for centuries), Lazareth could not see the truth in her statements. Suppose he had a banishing herb, and he consecrated it for abundance, would not the type of herb become irrelevant? He could not understand her compulsive need for accuracy and tradition.

Lazareth began to experiment on his own. He prepared a smoking mixture for her pipe. Instead of psychoactive mushrooms and salvia, as she would have done, he mixed a benign mushroom and a different strand of salvia (red instead of blue). He looked carefully into the aura of the proper plants and by passing his hands slowly over the herbs and fungus, he fashioned an aura similar on the inactive plants. He shaped the colors with sound, singing and humming, placing his tongue on the roof of his mouth in the intervals of silence. In his area of the cosmos, it was well recognized that when physical, certain postures begat certain states of mind, and placing the tongue on the roof of one’s mouth was almost universally recognized to silence the inner voice. When he had finished, he placed the mixture in the brass singing bowl she kept near her carved pipe by her rocking chair. The next time she took it out, he was going to scrutinize her every behavior.

Chapter Two

“Tastes different,” she said, making an annoying ticking sound with her tongue and teeth. “Why don’t you smoke with me this time?” She had never offered her smoking mixture to him before, and although it had been easily available, he had never tried it. With trepidation, he sat down in a submissive position on a floor pillow next to her rocker. She passed the pipe; he took a long expert drag, like she always did. Immediately he sputtered and coughed, tasting the salvia and the mushroom on the back of his throat, his head surrounded in a cloud of the burning mixture’s smoke.

The next hit, he decided, would be a smaller one, but at the moment she was smoking from the pipe. She winked at him, long lashes slowly moving down to her cheek, it struck him that she looked exactly like the moon, for a split second she looked extremely dark natured and young. She smiled, and instead of her usual crow’s feet, he saw the muscles under her eyes raise and make her eyes narrow, the eyes themselves twinkling with wisdom, humor and life force. He realized she had thrown glamour at him, and the knowledge of this fact, as the connection was made psychically, and the realization reached simultaneously with her knowledge that he knew what she was doing, made him crack up in peals of laughter. He laughed until he had no breath, he laughed some more, and then suddenly it was funny that he was going to die from laughing, and although still laughing, he feared for his life. She was handing him the pipe, and her colors were bright and fluorescent, her purple velvet dress opulent and expensive, and the diamond in the ring on her finger refracting a thousand rainbows at the walls of the cabin. “Your turn.” She said soberly and suddenly she was back to normal, the crinkly old Crone, this sobered him as well and his laughter slowly faded into nothing but an “Hmmmm,” that was falling unbidden from his mouth.

He took his second hit, a miniscule bit of smoke for the back of his throat and lungs. He held it in, and exhaled slowly, even adding a rebellious smoke ring. He watched the ring rise to the ceiling and suddenly he realized the consensual reality of the salvia and mushroom mixture. It occurred to him that salvia allowed one to fold the space time continuum in order to quickly make realizations that normally wouldn’t happen for years of linear time and experience. He also realized that there was a price to pay for these realizations, an accelerated aging process, and a process of the breaking down of the physical body into decay and degradation. It occurred to him as well that Monadh-Frith had mastered the folding of the space time continuum into an art, and had simply reversed the coordinates to make herself appear younger. She had folded time like one would make an origami swan; actually reverting back to her younger self for a moment . . . the way she would be had she never smoked the salvia in the first place. So she was not truly a Crone in linear time, it was only the price she paid for smoking her mixture.

The Crone read his mind easily, laughing to herself. “So you have mastered not only the aura of the smoke, but the underlying truth of the price one pays for smoking it. Pretty good for bunk salvia and a mushroom more suited for the stewpot than my bowl.” She took her singing bowl to the fire and dumped his mixture in. “You should probably step out to the garden and collect some mint for our tea while this burns, as it has absolutely no effect on me, and seems to have the opposite effect on you, your mind is as cloudy as this room,” she admonished, dismissing Lazareth with a wave of her hand.

The duped mixture burned, filling her modest cabin with smoke, and Monadh-Frith chuckled softly to herself as Lazareth collected the mint. She prayed that the sharp tang of the night air would sober his mind, clear his lungs, and return him to the present timeframe. She knew Lazareth was stronger than most humans on Earth, due to his celestial nature, but she feared he may slip into an alternate timeline. So she chanted a familiar tune, Brahmn’s Lullaby, and busied herself boiling the spring water for tea.

Lazareth turned to enter the cabin, and suddenly it was not there. He stood, mystified, with the mint still clutched in his right hand. Where the cabin had stood was a blue tarp, a fire pit and a lean –to. A homeless shelter. He looked to the left and right, but still there was no cabin.

Lazareth realized he must be in an alternate universe. He sat down and proceeded to clear the vibes of the person who had been there before. He found a blanket and a candle (it had gone out) inside of the lean-to, and as it was late, he decided to sleep there.

After many days of squatting at the spot in the forest, Lazareth got used to the idea that the Crone was not going to reappear. He had very little knowledge of the forest, and Earth botanicals in general. In her memory, he decided to educate himself in Traditional ways, and not revert to his astro-magick of manipulating energy fields of plants. Six years went by in this manner, Lazareth returning to the metropolis (as he knew the way) to study at the city’s public library. He brought the books to the forest shelter, and soon exhausted the library’s shelves of botanical knowledge. It was on one of these trips to the library, as he was crossing the mural bridge, that he saw a familiar looking, attractive lady sitting with her brother at the wrought iron tables. She was speaking with him in an undertone, so although he normally would not do this, he used some off world techniques to sharpen his hearing. It became apparent that they were speaking of a six year plan for the woman. She told her brother, as he wrote it with a stylus into a hand held device that she was going on a retreat into the forest to study herbs with her laptop and portable hotspot. She was going to leave her previous life behind. Lazareth was fascinated with the woman’s beauty, he associated it with Diana, the moon goddess, and became immediately infatuated . . . he was in love.

He turned the corner and headed down the street to the library. She was simply unapproachable.

He returned through the freeway overpass arbor to the shanty. A small young fawn passed by as he sat at his fire pit, the movement catching his eye. When he turned to watch it go, he was surprised to be looking right into the brown eyes of the lady from the coffeehouse. They greeted each other soundlessly and she sat down at the fire pit and lit a cigarette.

Lazareth and the young Monadh-Frith fell in love instantly. There was something “right” about their relationship. They spent the next six years learning together the way of the wise. They built a cabin together, felling the trees for it themselves, and sealing the logs with tar to make it waterproof for winter. Their lovemaking knew no bounds, as only monogamous relationships can evolve to the point of elevating lovemaking to an art.

But one fine evening, when the air outside had the sharp tang of autumn’s return, as Lazareth was collecting mint for their evening tea from their garden, he pivoted to return to the cabin, experiencing a strong déjà vu. As he crossed the threshold, he entered the original timeline where Monadh-Frith was a Crone, and when he entered the cabin, she stood with her back to him, singing and humming Brahmn’s Lullaby. He did not need her to turn around to know in his heart that she was old, and he simply returning from her time space continuum fold.

She said, with her back still to him, “I spent six years learning the forest alone, you spent six years learning the forest alone, we spent six years together combining our knowledge of the plants, and now you return. Do not try to trick me again.”

Lazareth wondered if they were drinking mint from the parallel universe, and decided to forego the tea that night. He went to bed with a strange ache in the God center of his humanoid brain.

In the morning, it was decided that they were to depart.

Chapter Three

In the morning, it was decided that they were to depart. Lazareth and Monadh-Frith both knew that “Noah’s Arc” was to return, it was only a matter of time. Monadh-Frith had had dreams of an alien ship, before Lazareth appeared on the beach that night. She knew from her dreams that alien ships carried only water, “Aquafina” to be exact, but beyond that, she had never explored the corridors of an alien ship. She had a slight knowledge of how they flew, from her research. They created a gravity slippage, sucking the gravity into a vortex created by an asymmetrical design based on Tesla’s motor/generator/alternator. If one left one magnet out of a Tesla motor, the poles of the magnets would create a vortex through which the ship could slide on the temporary gravity displacement. So it was with a mixture of excitement and happiness that she accepted Lazareth’s invitation to return to his home planet on the return of Noah’s Arc. This was the ship he had originally disembarked to become her Padawan.

They walked the hike to the beach quite often, scanning the midsummer skies for Noah’s Arc. They would camp on the sand, only to fall asleep reluctantly closing their eyes, after watching the night skies. Waking up in the morning without being beamed aboard the alien ship would have been disappointing to average people, but Monadh-Frith and Lazareth were extremely patient by nature.

So it was with surprise one day, as they left the double doors of the Public Library that they bumped into another humanoid hybrid like Lazareth. She was tall and Nordic looking, and immediately they both heard without words, the word “Salutations” in their heads. She was standing next to the outdoor area of the library, the stone benches and gargoyles of the outer courtyard. She stared directly into their eyes with the wet dark eyes of an offworlder.

“Noah’s Arc is here, I suggest you follow me.” She said in a commanding voice, entirely outwardly silent, completely in their heads again.

Monadh-Frith returned her books in the outdoor deposit and stood grinning her squinty eyed grin at Lazareth. Lazareth said aloud, “You will have to leave the known behind, “ to the Crone. She nodded her agreement, and they both turned to follow the female humanoid.

To their surprise, she led them to the forest, not the beach. When questioned why, she thought-spoke that the daylight would not hide a ship on the beach, but the forest accepted everyone.

The monumental moment (for Monadh-Frith) came; the ship appeared below the tree line, within the vicinity of the overpass arbor. Instead of lowering the door, like Lazareth had appeared to her, she was bathed in the tingling light of the beam, her body disintegrated, passing through the walls of the disc, and reintegrated inside the ship.

She was standing in Noah’s Arc’s botanical gardens. She looked around, spotting several species she was familiar with, and realized that the aptly named ship was carrying Earth’s endangered species of plants, several thousand clones of each one. The garden within the ship seemed to stretch so far, she could make out a horizon in the distance. Lazareth tapped her shoulder when he reappeared within the ship next to her and led her to the genetics laboratory.

Monadh-Frith was amazed to see fetal hybrids in “jars” lining the walls of the genetics lab. They were alive, she noticed from the corner of her eye. The aliens were cultivating hybrids as well as plants, and she wondered what types of DNA they considered endangered, what types would Noah’s Arc preserve? She also wondered how they had gotten a hold of their samples.

The female humanoid appeared next to them then, and Monadh-Frith smiled at her in greeting.

“You must put your body in what would appear to be a tomb to you, on the ship, in order to visit our home planet.” She thought spoke to Monadh-Frith.

Lazareth quickly jumped in, an expert at the thought speaking. Monadh –Frith wondered if he had the ability to speak to the female without herself hearing.

“Our home planet is Uranian in nature, although at a star system far from here. The beings where I am from do not take physical form, like yours on Earth. You will have to leave your body behind on the ship in order to visit the An tares solar system,” said Lazareth.

“I assume you are familiar with out of body travel?” said the female humanoid.

Monadh-Frith hesitated. “I am quite lucid when I dream, if that is what you mean?”

“Lazareth will be your guide; he will follow you if you get lost. I am to be called; I guess the English equivalent would be ‘Stella’. I will be your ambassador on our planet. It will take some time to get there. I suggest you perfect you’re out of body traveling while in transit on the ship. Lazareth will show you your soma case.”

Monadh-Frith was dismissed. She and Lazareth walked slowly towards the rear of the ship.

“You must realize our people do not take a body unless they travel off of our home planet. From birth they are in an out of body state, and become experts by the coming of age stage. Your present knowledge would be typical of a ten year old on our planet. For we do not only practice while the physical body sleeps- one third of your life- we practice from birth. I will help you learn our ways; do not be afraid of the soma case. Your physical body will be preserved in a liquid, and all bodily systems will remain functioning. Your soul however will travel with mine. We cannot leave the ship until the ship is in the vicinity of our star system, as there are unexplored territories between your planet and ours, and it could be dangerous. So the first thing we must do is put your body to sleep and meet in a prespecified area of the ship in the non-physical or astral body. You might compare it to mutual dreaming, although we will never “wake up” as you know it, until your apprenticeship, Padawan (he said with humor) is done on my planet. “

The Soma Case was made out of a living acrylic, with fluid inside, cigar shaped and clear.

“Do I need to replenish first? “ said Monadh-Frith, wishing for a strong cup of spicy chai to calm her nerves. She wanted a bowl of her smoke.

“The liquid will provide your body all the nourishment it needs,” said Lazareth, “you need not be afraid to enter. However, you must remove your clothes, and slip out of your body immediately.”

Monadh-Frith took a deep breath, did as she was told, and clambered into the capsule.

Lazareth leaned over the Soma Case and produced a pill from the folds of his clothes.

“Stella told me this may help your transition a bit. After you take it, you must ‘drown’ yourself in the liquid. The pill will calm your instinctual survival instinct.”

She was surprised to find that the life liquid was warm. She placed the pill in her mouth and took a sip of the liquid. It tasted like ambrosia, which was not what she expected. Lazareth left the room, seemingly to give her privacy for her transition. She lay back in the ambrosia water. It was warm and she felt like she had never relaxed in her life before, her back aching, her neck sore, it felt so good to lay down and stretch out.

Her head must have slipped under water. Monadh-Frith prayed to an Earth God, the demiurge of Sophia, the creator of the physical plane, and opened her mouth to drown herself.

Chapter Four

Monadh-Frith’s demiurge must have smiled down upon her, because she rolled out of her body sideways quite easily and stood next to the Soma Capsule. Her physical body she gazed upon with a poignancy known only to those well versed in out of body experiences. It floated in the capsule, mouth slightly agape. The skin looked pink and healthy, and she noticed she had more silver in her hair than she remembered. The eyes were closed, and the face rested peacefully. It looked like she was sleeping, except for the liquid.

Lazareth re-entered the room. He did not acknowledge her astral body. He walked, in fact, right through it and closed the capsule’s lid. He proceeded to remove his robes, and place his body in the soma capsule at her feet. She noticed he did not pop a pill. He closed his own capsule. He did, however, a small movement similar to yoga on earth, placing his hands together at the fingertips, and touching them first to his heart, then his crown, and finally above his head. He relaxed in that position, “walk like an Egyptian”, and closed his eyes. She realized he was praying, and at this moment, realized simultaneously that he was aware of her astral body watching him. She heard the words in her head, but they were in his native language, unfamiliar syllables representing symbols, a poetic tongue, and she realized an archaic language even on his planet.

Lazareth exited through his third eye chakra. She saw his astral body momentarily as a glowing golden orb, but he immediately changed it to the Lazareth familiar form.

“And so we meet again, my Monadh-Frith.” He said taking her hand.

Lazareth was quite comfortable in his astral body, in fact, could take any form he wished by simply concentrating on it. Monadh-Frith, being new to this situation, had a fluctuating form, all her forms on Earth, from young to old. Lazareth decided to address her fluidity problem.

“Monadh-Frith, it is quite important to be able to shape shift, while non –physical, and this is more familiar to you as a dreamer. But myself, I believe in stalking as well. I use these terms to describe the fluidity associated with dreams, vs. the pinning down of the fluid associated with stalking. I suggest you start with a dream object. If you can maintain its form for one day, you will pass the test, and I will expect you to next pin down your astral form, before we get to An tares, an astral form of your choosing, how you would like to present yourself to my people.”

“What do you mean, Lazareth, by a ‘dream object’?”

“I mean something you create yourself. In a dream.”

The thought had never occurred to her, and then suddenly, she remembered. “I materialize cigarettes, when I need them, but I always pull them out of a purse, or backpack that I am carrying. I know if I search hard enough, I can produce one through the sheer act of knowing that it will be found.”

“Yes, Monadh, you said it well. ‘The sheer act of knowing’. This mental confidence is key to producing a dream object.”

Monadh-Frith remembered a dream object from a dream she had had long ago. It was a glass orb, a perfect sphere, forest green with gold filigree. She had caught it out of the corner of her eye, during an anxiety dream where she and her relatives were drowning in a sinking car within a lake. She knew that she could not make the orb appear out of thin air, so she sheepishly bent behind the soma cases and pulled with her hand from underneath them, the forest green sphere with gold filigree.

She held it up triumphantly for Lazareth to see. It changed in her hand into a kitten, which bounded away before changing into a cinnamon stick, and finally disappearing.

“Whoopsie,” she said with her now famous squinted eye grin, eyes sparkling.

Lazareth took a deep breath, and held his hand to his chin, thinking. “You must know without forgetting to know that the object will always be there, while simultaneously forgetting that the object did not ever exist before you created it. In this manner, you create a past for it, it always existed. Then and only then will the form maintain itself. “He sighed, slightly perturbed. “Monadh, one object is child’s play for my people. I have every confidence in your abilities, but to give you the full scope of this art, we have “maintainers” of our cities, on my planet. Their job is to maintain the form of our structures, literally blocks and blocks of buildings, artwork, sidewalks, sculpture and roads. They created the city, object by object, and maintain its form, changing it to more aesthetically pleasing on the suggestions of others or at their own whim, but may I stress here, maintaining every detail of a whole city through thought. Try again to produce your orb.”

Monadh-Frith was game. She reached under the soma cases, and since she had done it before, she “knew” she could produce it again . . . there it was, a forest green glass orb with gold filigree. She tucked it under her arm and knew it would be there. She tried to fool herself that it had never not been there. To her amazement, it stayed beneath her forearm. She inspected it, taking in every detail of the design.

“So I have to hold this orb all day?” she asked Lazareth.

“Maintain its form, and then we will work on your form. The one you are to present when you leave Noah’s Arc.”

“Wait, if I don’t sleep anymore, what’s a day?” she asked next.

“You will soon know what true rest from your ‘day’ is.” Said Lazareth.

Monadh-Frith loved looking in the botanical gardens of the ship, running her fingers over the different plants. She was sure to keep an eye on her orb, and so far it had become permanent. The botanical gardens had misters set on timers, and she was surprised to find out she could “feel” the mist when it came on. She longed to make her potions and extracts; she had always enjoyed the smell of certain herbs as they were crushed in the suribachi. It slowly occurred to her that Noah’s Arc had been to several water planets, not just Earth, as there were strains of plants unfamiliar to her. The command room was off limits, even to Lazareth, so she remained in the dark about how they flew. There were many, many other non –physical entities aboard the ship, and most of them did not choose a humanoid form. Lazareth and she used the soma case room as a meeting place, often she would return to walk in on strange scenes as Lazarus mingled among his people in the room. He told her of a union that they were invited to; two entities on the ship had decided to meld their souls into one to produce a double soul that would from then on never exist apart. It was like lovemaking and a marriage, but even more special as it was a union of souls, and everyone on the ship was invited.

Before then, however, Lazareth wanted to show Monadh-Frith what true rest was, as it had been a “day”.

“We are going to take a journey. You will not need your orb anymore.”

(Monadh was still carrying it around, and sighed a sigh of relief.) “Can I give it as a wedding present to the souls that are to be joined?”

“Place it next to the soma cases and we will see if it is still there after our journey. You will have to see if it maintains its existence on its own, if it is strong enough to exist without your awareness of it. In this journey you may take any form you wish, or allow your form to slide due to your reactions. We will rest and then meet back on the ship. Look at your physical body, study it well. You may be so disoriented, that you need to return to it, and ‘wake up’ to meet me again. I will be waiting in the soma room when you are ready to return. I am taking you to the well of souls.”

“You are taking me to the Oztar?” Monadh-Frith asked in wonder.

“Yes, to the body of Adam in some of your Earth religions, the ‘birdhouse’ in others.”

“You must follow me, in order to do that, we will hold hands and fly, so that you will be oriented, although we could just dissolve into it from any space, as there is no distance when one communicates with God. Do you know how to astral travel through solid matter, as some get stuck within the atoms of walls. . .”

Monadh-Frith had spent many hours traveling out of body on Earth, and nodded her consent.

She put the orb down (she kind of liked it by now, similar to a pet), and took Lazareth’s hand. They used their will to get off of the ground (this part was simple) and fly through the ceiling of the ship. Monadh was struck by the sheer number of stars in outer space.

They astral traveled, they flew through the stars. It was beautiful in the vacuum of space. There was a planet near, but Lazareth did not head towards it. It was orange, with clouds swirling on the surface and absolutely breathtaking.

The Oztar, or well of souls turned out to be on the other side of a black hole. As Lazareth explained it, the black hole sucked up the souls of the dead, they were transported through a wormhole (the “tunnel” people with near death experiences spoke of) and ejected out a white hole into the Seventh Heaven to be born again. Thus the “well of souls” was an integral part of reincarnation. To Monadh-Frith’s surprise, Lazareth said they were to travel through.

Chapter Five

They reached the event horizon of the black hole. Light was bending into it, being sucked in. Monadh-Frith wanted to hold her breath, instinctually, as if jumping into a whirlpool. Lazareth indicated that he would not go in until he received her ready signal. She thought of what he had said waited at the other end, it being motivation enough, she signaled Lazareth with a “come here” motion of her hand. As she stepped off of the edge of the event horizon, Monadh-Frith lost track of Lazareth. Time seemed to slow down, and she felt her astral body stretch and distort in a tremendous manner. Right when she felt like she had been “falling” forever, she reached the singularity and was spit into the wormhole. Like a cross between a roller coaster and a waterslide (with the promise of light at the other end), she rode the wormhole only to be distorted again before (finally) being spit out the white hole’s event horizon into Seventh Heaven.

Lazareth and Monadh-Frith stood in front of a plane of existence that looked like a horizontal sky. Lazareth bowed to the expanse of Infinity.

“Monadh-Frith, pay your respects, you are about to step out into the Seventh Heaven.”

She prostrated.

“I want to warn you that the Seventh Heaven is interpreted uniquely to each individual. I will see something entirely different than yourself.”

Monadh-Frith nodded, curious at the idea. She once again took Lazareth’s hand. He nodded his consent, and they stepped trepidatiously into Infinity.

The first thing Monadh-Frith noticed was a sharp intelligence, a vast knowing made of light. Infinity parted like two dimensional mist and her mind was infiltrated by a benevolent, yet knowing force. Although it did not speak, she realized her unspoken questions would and could be answered. As she wondered how she would interpret God, Heaven, and Everything, the mist coalesced into a scene. She stood in a vast plateau, wind blowing her skirt around her legs, and pushing the grain shoots over. From Nowhere, a man walked up. He looked like the typical Indian shaman, bright colored clothing, leather moccasin boots, feathers in long black hair, dark skin, crow’s feet. He did a little dance, humming and slapping his thighs to the beat for several minutes. An irish wishing well appeared next to him, wavering a little in the sunlight, like a mirage, before settling into itself. Still humming a melodious chant like drone, he took a single gourd from the many at his belt. He dipped the gourd into the well, and with movements made of tranquility, he removed another gourd from his belt, and poured from one gourd to the other. Then, dancing some more, increasing his tempo, he bent to pour both gourds on the ground, releasing what Monadh-Frith had knowledge of as soulmates to the Earth.

This peaceful scene touched Monadh-Frith deeply, and she knew it would be with her for the rest of her life.

But even as Monadh-Frith had this thought, she was suddenly on the Event Horizon of a different Black Hole, hurtling through the worm hole and stretching through another singularity only to be spit back out in space. Lazareth came trailing after.

“What did you see?” she asked him, hungry for a tale as colorful as her own experience.

Lazareth opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came out for a moment. When he did speak, it came out as one syllable for each paragraph of thought, disconnected word salad of a cacophony of sound. He was speaking in tongues. He remained in this state for quite awhile, and Monadh-Frith accommodated this experience, even when his eyes rolled up in his head. His arms were outstretched, palms up in a gesture similar to the way artist’s portray Christ during the transfiguration.

When he came out of it, Monadh-Frith laughed, “That hard to explain?” she winked.

Chapter Six

It soon became evident that Lazareth was not going to come out of it without “physical” contact, so Monadh-Frith touched his arm reverently. The next thing she knew, she was opening actual physical eyes in the soma capsule. She could feel her body about to sputter, cough and drown, so she rolled out sideways again. She stood next to the now-still body in the soma capsule and gazed upon it longingly. Never had she been out of body so long as to miss the wizened old thing, but she did now. Lazareth repeated the syllables she heard the last time he left his body, in her mind, and she saw the glowing gold orb leave from his physical third eye yet again. He stood next to her, settling into a ghostly apparition of the humanoid form.

“The union is about to begin. We had to return in the quickest manner possible. Sorry for the abrupt departure from the Oztar.”

“The wedding?”, said Monadh-Frith, glancing around for her pet sphere. It sat next to the soma cases as she marveled at her ability to maintain form.

“That is a quite simplistic description of what is about to take place, Monadh.” Said Lazareth.

Monadh-Frith decided to try on a new form for herself, to maintain it as well as the sphere. She chose an angelic pair of white feathered wings and carefully materialized them on her back. “I am ready.” She spoke aloud.

Lazareth took one look at the wings and decided to revert to his familiar golden orb. His people knew him in this form with much more familiarity.

The union took place in a hangar type area of the ship. The entire ship’s population were there, and although many of the forms were incomprehensible to Monadh-Frith’s terrestrial self, she made out quite a few familiar symbols. There were several different Egyptian ankh types, distinguishable by the color, or jewels encrusted upon the symbol, or auras around them. Another popular form for Lazareth’s people seemed to be the pyramid with the eye. A few female types chose wood nymph forms, and she made out a few kundalini snakes around a staff.

The union couple were two simple orbs like Lazareth. As they approached, music welled out of the walls of the ship, a complex melody similar to 16th century classical. The audience “applauded” silently, more of a strong feeling of respect for the ceremony that was about to begin. As all physical form is created with light waves and sound waves, when the actual union took place, not only did Monadh-Frith’s heart break with poignancy, but a third, separate form was created when the two orbs melded into one another. A many faceted sparking diamond type light form was created, refracting rainbows onto the crowd, and liquid rainbows danced above their heads and joined to finally settle on a double helix. The joined souls, now forever linked, spiraled their multicolored union into life. A very “loud” round of “applause”, the palpable appreciation spread throughout the hangar, and the union was complete. Monadh-Frith, being careful to maintain her wings, placed the orb on an altar table at the front of the room. A line of party goers were placing offerings there, so she was not out of line according to their traditions. Many gold coins, paper money, and rings were laid out on the altar, much incense was lit and a band started in with an Eastern Indian type influenced dance beat. The forms, rather than gyrating to the beat, to dance, changed their fluidity, expressing their joyousness in as many forms as possible, and the entire party was too much for Monadh-Frith’s Earthly mind to encompass, so she excused herself to retreat to the soma room.

Lazareth found her there. “Noah’s Arc is about to enter orbit around my planet. Have you realized the usefulness of stalking vs. dreaming when it comes to your astral body?” he asked.

“Apparently, fluidity of the astral body, on your planet, is not a slippage of concentration, as in my case, “ said Monadh-Frith, “ but an art form used for expression of emotion or mood.”

“Exactly.” Said Lazareth.

She walked in the forest, her eyes scanning the forest floor for an appropriate place for her fire. There was a rustling to her lower right. A baby deer came hurtling through the underbrush. It was night, and she walked by the light of a candle.

Soon she came to an abandoned camp, from a homeless person. There was a blue tarp strung between the trees, a fire pit, and a lean –to.

In the dead of night, she cleared the remnants of the person who had been there before, sweeping the forest floor with a young branch that had many leaves and putting all objects into the fire. She opened her pack, laid out a blanket and placed the candle on the lean-to wall. It was time to make a cup of strong black spicy tea.

The forest at night was alive with the yellow eyes of creatures. As she sipped her chai, a small piece of pine tree fell softly to her shoulder, a blessing imparted by the forest breeze.

She had not brought any food with her, only cigarettes and the strong tea. She lit one now.

In the silence that the carpeted forest floor brought, her mind was free to wander at will.

Six Years Later

She lit the beeswax candle reverently, her feet padding around on the bare forest ground that constituted the floor of her cabin in the woods. The walls were lined as an apothecary; balms, ointments, and extracts on the wall. She had her suribachi and surigoshi full of ayhuasca and in the corner of the cabin was a small carved pipe full of the blue salvia that lined the path to her door. Six years of research from a portable hotspot next to the laptop had educated her mind to the point of saturation, and she was well versed before the self-imposed retreat had begun. She was humming a song to God when it hit her. It was time to find her padawan. Someone who had just begun what Joseph Campbell termed the “hero’s journey”. She began to pack the small pouches that hung from her waist, and a larger pack that fit over her cloak. For the first time in six years, she considered shoes. They had to be here, somewhere, the shoes she had worn into the forest. . .

She wanted to depart in the light of dawn, she brought the enthogenic herbs, wore layers, and a small vial of her own menstrual blood hung around her neck. Besides a canteen of pure spring water, a loaf of bread, some venison jerky she had made herself, and a block of cheese, she brought little else.

It took a full day to reach civilization, but once there, it was a large city that had often supplied her needs while cloistered with the creatures of the woods. Right at the gate to the city, she saw another small spotted blur go by. It was a favorable omen, marking her departure from the forest cathedral. She entered the city via a highway overpass that had become an arbor. Soon she came to a small outdoor café via a bridge that had murals painted on the wooden slats. She sat at one of the café’s wrought iron tables and chairs. She brought out a small portion of her food, and drank a bit from the canteen. She had enough two dollar bills and Sacagawea coins to buy something from the café, but she had tired of them hawking their watery poison.

It was a short walk from the metropolis to the sandy confines of the beach. She headed down the main drag practicing invisibility. There was a method to tone down one’s aura to an unnoticeable state, where even her wrinkled visage blended in as just another passerby . . . The sand crunched underfoot, giving a little and sliding her foot far behind her. She sat, gazing at the moon, Diana, and the Dog Star, Sirius. It was what she had called a “fingernail moon” as a child, first quarter.

As she had known there would be, a light appeared next to the star, approaching quickly and weaving in the antigravity slip near the Earth’s surface. Soon a beam of light was overhead, the moon barely visible in the brightness of the beam’s glare. A small, slight, electric type humming was heard from the silent craft, and a door opened from the base of the disc. A tall humanoid hybrid walked forward onto the sand, a male, who opened his palm in a universal gesture symbolic of meaning no harm.

“So you have arrived, Padawan.” She said in greeting.

“Indeed I have, Crone.” He said in return.

“My name, to you, youngling, is Monadh-Frith.”

He bowed his head to her, and introduced himself. “I am henceforth to be called, ‘Lazareth’”

Their time together was well spent, as Lazareth had knowledge of the stars and Monadh-Frith of the Earth. Lazareth was young and impulsive, however, and the Crone patient and slow. This dichotomy separated their relationship into its proper place, mentor and student, rather than an even exchange between peers.

Lazareth took to the apothecary cabin well, and furthermore began to make the runs to the metropolis. This left Monadh –Frith free to work on botanical formulas, but Lazareth quickly began to fear for her mind.

His knowledge differed from hers, as where he was from, one worked with subtle energies more than physical substances. He could understand her use of herbs to practice spells and magick, but from his point of view, if one imbued the herb with the proper intent, it did not matter which herb one used. A spell that called for mandrake and rosemary, for instance, could easily be done (in his head) with any herbs available, as long as one consecrated the herb for the purpose one intended. As much as the Crone reiterated the importance of the proper herb (she always said that the collective consciousness was involved, that the wisdom of the ancients had to be practiced the same way it had been for centuries), Lazareth could not see the truth in her statements. Suppose he had a banishing herb, and he consecrated it for abundance, would not the type of herb become irrelevant? He could not understand her compulsive need for accuracy and tradition.

Lazareth began to experiment on his own. He prepared a smoking mixture for her pipe. Instead of psychoactive mushrooms and salvia, as she would have done, he mixed a benign mushroom and a different strand of salvia (red instead of blue). He looked carefully into the aura of the proper plants and by passing his hands slowly over the herbs and fungus, he fashioned an aura similar on the inactive plants. He shaped the colors with sound, singing and humming, placing his tongue on the roof of his mouth in the intervals of silence. In his area of the cosmos, it was well recognized that when physical, certain postures begat certain states of mind, and placing the tongue on the roof of one’s mouth was almost universally recognized to silence the inner voice. When he had finished, he placed the mixture in the brass singing bowl she kept near her carved pipe by her rocking chair. The next time she took it out, he was going to scrutinize her every behavior.

Chapter Two

“Tastes different,” she said, making an annoying ticking sound with her tongue and teeth. “Why don’t you smoke with me this time?” She had never offered her smoking mixture to him before, and although it had been easily available, he had never tried it. With trepidation, he sat down in a submissive position on a floor pillow next to her rocker. She passed the pipe; he took a long expert drag, like she always did. Immediately he sputtered and coughed, tasting the salvia and the mushroom on the back of his throat, his head surrounded in a cloud of the burning mixture’s smoke.

The next hit, he decided, would be a smaller one, but at the moment she was smoking from the pipe. She winked at him, long lashes slowly moving down to her cheek, it struck him that she looked exactly like the moon, for a split second she looked extremely dark natured and young. She smiled, and instead of her usual crow’s feet, he saw the muscles under her eyes raise and make her eyes narrow, the eyes themselves twinkling with wisdom, humor and life force. He realized she had thrown glamour at him, and the knowledge of this fact, as the connection was made psychically, and the realization reached simultaneously with her knowledge that he knew what she was doing, made him crack up in peals of laughter. He laughed until he had no breath, he laughed some more, and then suddenly it was funny that he was going to die from laughing, and although still laughing, he feared for his life. She was handing him the pipe, and her colors were bright and fluorescent, her purple velvet dress opulent and expensive, and the diamond in the ring on her finger refracting a thousand rainbows at the walls of the cabin. “Your turn.” She said soberly and suddenly she was back to normal, the crinkly old Crone, this sobered him as well and his laughter slowly faded into nothing but an “Hmmmm,” that was falling unbidden from his mouth.

He took his second hit, a miniscule bit of smoke for the back of his throat and lungs. He held it in, and exhaled slowly, even adding a rebellious smoke ring. He watched the ring rise to the ceiling and suddenly he realized the consensual reality of the salvia and mushroom mixture. It occurred to him that salvia allowed one to fold the space time continuum in order to quickly make realizations that normally wouldn’t happen for years of linear time and experience. He also realized that there was a price to pay for these realizations, an accelerated aging process, and a process of the breaking down of the physical body into decay and degradation. It occurred to him as well that Monadh-Frith had mastered the folding of the space time continuum into an art, and had simply reversed the coordinates to make herself appear younger. She had folded time like one would make an origami swan; actually reverting back to her younger self for a moment . . . the way she would be had she never smoked the salvia in the first place. So she was not truly a Crone in linear time, it was only the price she paid for smoking her mixture.

The Crone read his mind easily, laughing to herself. “So you have mastered not only the aura of the smoke, but the underlying truth of the price one pays for smoking it. Pretty good for bunk salvia and a mushroom more suited for the stewpot than my bowl.” She took her singing bowl to the fire and dumped his mixture in. “You should probably step out to the garden and collect some mint for our tea while this burns, as it has absolutely no effect on me, and seems to have the opposite effect on you, your mind is as cloudy as this room,” she admonished, dismissing Lazareth with a wave of her hand.

The duped mixture burned, filling her modest cabin with smoke, and Monadh-Frith chuckled softly to herself as Lazareth collected the mint. She prayed that the sharp tang of the night air would sober his mind, clear his lungs, and return him to the present timeframe. She knew Lazareth was stronger than most humans on Earth, due to his celestial nature, but she feared he may slip into an alternate timeline. So she chanted a familiar tune, Brahmn’s Lullaby, and busied herself boiling the spring water for tea.

Lazareth turned to enter the cabin, and suddenly it was not there. He stood, mystified, with the mint still clutched in his right hand. Where the cabin had stood was a blue tarp, a fire pit and a lean –to. A homeless shelter. He looked to the left and right, but still there was no cabin.

Lazareth realized he must be in an alternate universe. He sat down and proceeded to clear the vibes of the person who had been there before. He found a blanket and a candle (it had gone out) inside of the lean-to, and as it was late, he decided to sleep there.

After many days of squatting at the spot in the forest, Lazareth got used to the idea that the Crone was not going to reappear. He had very little knowledge of the forest, and Earth botanicals in general. In her memory, he decided to educate himself in Traditional ways, and not revert to his astro-magick of manipulating energy fields of plants. Six years went by in this manner, Lazareth returning to the metropolis (as he knew the way) to study at the city’s public library. He brought the books to the forest shelter, and soon exhausted the library’s shelves of botanical knowledge. It was on one of these trips to the library, as he was crossing the mural bridge, that he saw a familiar looking, attractive lady sitting with her brother at the wrought iron tables. She was speaking with him in an undertone, so although he normally would not do this, he used some off world techniques to sharpen his hearing. It became apparent that they were speaking of a six year plan for the woman. She told her brother, as he wrote it with a stylus into a hand held device that she was going on a retreat into the forest to study herbs with her laptop and portable hotspot. She was going to leave her previous life behind. Lazareth was fascinated with the woman’s beauty, he associated it with Diana, the moon goddess, and became immediately infatuated . . . he was in love.

He turned the corner and headed down the street to the library. She was simply unapproachable.

He returned through the freeway overpass arbor to the shanty. A small young fawn passed by as he sat at his fire pit, the movement catching his eye. When he turned to watch it go, he was surprised to be looking right into the brown eyes of the lady from the coffeehouse. They greeted each other soundlessly and she sat down at the fire pit and lit a cigarette.

Lazareth and the young Monadh-Frith fell in love instantly. There was something “right” about their relationship. They spent the next six years learning together the way of the wise. They built a cabin together, felling the trees for it themselves, and sealing the logs with tar to make it waterproof for winter. Their lovemaking knew no bounds, as only monogamous relationships can evolve to the point of elevating lovemaking to an art.

But one fine evening, when the air outside had the sharp tang of autumn’s return, as Lazareth was collecting mint for their evening tea from their garden, he pivoted to return to the cabin, experiencing a strong déjà vu. As he crossed the threshold, he entered the original timeline where Monadh-Frith was a Crone, and when he entered the cabin, she stood with her back to him, singing and humming Brahmn’s Lullaby. He did not need her to turn around to know in his heart that she was old, and he simply returning from her time space continuum fold.

She said, with her back still to him, “I spent six years learning the forest alone, you spent six years learning the forest alone, we spent six years together combining our knowledge of the plants, and now you return. Do not try to trick me again.”

Lazareth wondered if they were drinking mint from the parallel universe, and decided to forego the tea that night. He went to bed with a strange ache in the God center of his humanoid brain.

In the morning, it was decided that they were to depart.

Chapter Three

In the morning, it was decided that they were to depart. Lazareth and Monadh-Frith both knew that “Noah’s Arc” was to return, it was only a matter of time. Monadh-Frith had had dreams of an alien ship, before Lazareth appeared on the beach that night. She knew from her dreams that alien ships carried only water, “Aquafina” to be exact, but beyond that, she had never explored the corridors of an alien ship. She had a slight knowledge of how they flew, from her research. They created a gravity slippage, sucking the gravity into a vortex created by an asymmetrical design based on Tesla’s motor/generator/alternator. If one left one magnet out of a Tesla motor, the poles of the magnets would create a vortex through which the ship could slide on the temporary gravity displacement. So it was with a mixture of excitement and happiness that she accepted Lazareth’s invitation to return to his home planet on the return of Noah’s Arc. This was the ship he had originally disembarked to become her Padawan.

They walked the hike to the beach quite often, scanning the midsummer skies for Noah’s Arc. They would camp on the sand, only to fall asleep reluctantly closing their eyes, after watching the night skies. Waking up in the morning without being beamed aboard the alien ship would have been disappointing to average people, but Monadh-Frith and Lazareth were extremely patient by nature.

So it was with surprise one day, as they left the double doors of the Public Library that they bumped into another humanoid hybrid like Lazareth. She was tall and Nordic looking, and immediately they both heard without words, the word “Salutations” in their heads. She was standing next to the outdoor area of the library, the stone benches and gargoyles of the outer courtyard. She stared directly into their eyes with the wet dark eyes of an offworlder.

“Noah’s Arc is here, I suggest you follow me.” She said in a commanding voice, entirely outwardly silent, completely in their heads again.

Monadh-Frith returned her books in the outdoor deposit and stood grinning her squinty eyed grin at Lazareth. Lazareth said aloud, “You will have to leave the known behind, “ to the Crone. She nodded her agreement, and they both turned to follow the female humanoid.

To their surprise, she led them to the forest, not the beach. When questioned why, she thought-spoke that the daylight would not hide a ship on the beach, but the forest accepted everyone.

The monumental moment (for Monadh-Frith) came; the ship appeared below the tree line, within the vicinity of the overpass arbor. Instead of lowering the door, like Lazareth had appeared to her, she was bathed in the tingling light of the beam, her body disintegrated, passing through the walls of the disc, and reintegrated inside the ship.

She was standing in Noah’s Arc’s botanical gardens. She looked around, spotting several species she was familiar with, and realized that the aptly named ship was carrying Earth’s endangered species of plants, several thousand clones of each one. The garden within the ship seemed to stretch so far, she could make out a horizon in the distance. Lazareth tapped her shoulder when he reappeared within the ship next to her and led her to the genetics laboratory.

Monadh-Frith was amazed to see fetal hybrids in “jars” lining the walls of the genetics lab. They were alive, she noticed from the corner of her eye. The aliens were cultivating hybrids as well as plants, and she wondered what types of DNA they considered endangered, what types would Noah’s Arc preserve? She also wondered how they had gotten a hold of their samples.

The female humanoid appeared next to them then, and Monadh-Frith smiled at her in greeting.

“You must put your body in what would appear to be a tomb to you, on the ship, in order to visit our home planet.” She thought spoke to Monadh-Frith.

Lazareth quickly jumped in, an expert at the thought speaking. Monadh –Frith wondered if he had the ability to speak to the female without herself hearing.

“Our home planet is Uranian in nature, although at a star system far from here. The beings where I am from do not take physical form, like yours on Earth. You will have to leave your body behind on the ship in order to visit the An tares solar system,” said Lazareth.

“I assume you are familiar with out of body travel?” said the female humanoid.

Monadh-Frith hesitated. “I am quite lucid when I dream, if that is what you mean?”

“Lazareth will be your guide; he will follow you if you get lost. I am to be called; I guess the English equivalent would be ‘Stella’. I will be your ambassador on our planet. It will take some time to get there. I suggest you perfect you’re out of body traveling while in transit on the ship. Lazareth will show you your soma case.”

Monadh-Frith was dismissed. She and Lazareth walked slowly towards the rear of the ship.

“You must realize our people do not take a body unless they travel off of our home planet. From birth they are in an out of body state, and become experts by the coming of age stage. Your present knowledge would be typical of a ten year old on our planet. For we do not only practice while the physical body sleeps- one third of your life- we practice from birth. I will help you learn our ways; do not be afraid of the soma case. Your physical body will be preserved in a liquid, and all bodily systems will remain functioning. Your soul however will travel with mine. We cannot leave the ship until the ship is in the vicinity of our star system, as there are unexplored territories between your planet and ours, and it could be dangerous. So the first thing we must do is put your body to sleep and meet in a prespecified area of the ship in the non-physical or astral body. You might compare it to mutual dreaming, although we will never “wake up” as you know it, until your apprenticeship, Padawan (he said with humor) is done on my planet. “

The Soma Case was made out of a living acrylic, with fluid inside, cigar shaped and clear.

“Do I need to replenish first? “ said Monadh-Frith, wishing for a strong cup of spicy chai to calm her nerves. She wanted a bowl of her smoke.

“The liquid will provide your body all the nourishment it needs,” said Lazareth, “you need not be afraid to enter. However, you must remove your clothes, and slip out of your body immediately.”

Monadh-Frith took a deep breath, did as she was told, and clambered into the capsule.

Lazareth leaned over the Soma Case and produced a pill from the folds of his clothes.

“Stella told me this may help your transition a bit. After you take it, you must ‘drown’ yourself in the liquid. The pill will calm your instinctual survival instinct.”

She was surprised to find that the life liquid was warm. She placed the pill in her mouth and took a sip of the liquid. It tasted like ambrosia, which was not what she expected. Lazareth left the room, seemingly to give her privacy for her transition. She lay back in the ambrosia water. It was warm and she felt like she had never relaxed in her life before, her back aching, her neck sore, it felt so good to lay down and stretch out.

Her head must have slipped under water. Monadh-Frith prayed to an Earth God, the demiurge of Sophia, the creator of the physical plane, and opened her mouth to drown herself.

Chapter Four

Monadh-Frith’s demiurge must have smiled down upon her, because she rolled out of her body sideways quite easily and stood next to the Soma Capsule. Her physical body she gazed upon with a poignancy known only to those well versed in out of body experiences. It floated in the capsule, mouth slightly agape. The skin looked pink and healthy, and she noticed she had more silver in her hair than she remembered. The eyes were closed, and the face rested peacefully. It looked like she was sleeping, except for the liquid.

Lazareth re-entered the room. He did not acknowledge her astral body. He walked, in fact, right through it and closed the capsule’s lid. He proceeded to remove his robes, and place his body in the soma capsule at her feet. She noticed he did not pop a pill. He closed his own capsule. He did, however, a small movement similar to yoga on earth, placing his hands together at the fingertips, and touching them first to his heart, then his crown, and finally above his head. He relaxed in that position, “walk like an Egyptian”, and closed his eyes. She realized he was praying, and at this moment, realized simultaneously that he was aware of her astral body watching him. She heard the words in her head, but they were in his native language, unfamiliar syllables representing symbols, a poetic tongue, and she realized an archaic language even on his planet.

Lazareth exited through his third eye chakra. She saw his astral body momentarily as a glowing golden orb, but he immediately changed it to the Lazareth familiar form.

“And so we meet again, my Monadh-Frith.” He said taking her hand.

Lazareth was quite comfortable in his astral body, in fact, could take any form he wished by simply concentrating on it. Monadh-Frith, being new to this situation, had a fluctuating form, all her forms on Earth, from young to old. Lazareth decided to address her fluidity problem.

“Monadh-Frith, it is quite important to be able to shape shift, while non –physical, and this is more familiar to you as a dreamer. But myself, I believe in stalking as well. I use these terms to describe the fluidity associated with dreams, vs. the pinning down of the fluid associated with stalking. I suggest you start with a dream object. If you can maintain its form for one day, you will pass the test, and I will expect you to next pin down your astral form, before we get to An tares, an astral form of your choosing, how you would like to present yourself to my people.”

“What do you mean, Lazareth, by a ‘dream object’?”

“I mean something you create yourself. In a dream.”

The thought had never occurred to her, and then suddenly, she remembered. “I materialize cigarettes, when I need them, but I always pull them out of a purse, or backpack that I am carrying. I know if I search hard enough, I can produce one through the sheer act of knowing that it will be found.”

“Yes, Monadh, you said it well. ‘The sheer act of knowing’. This mental confidence is key to producing a dream object.”

Monadh-Frith remembered a dream object from a dream she had had long ago. It was a glass orb, a perfect sphere, forest green with gold filigree. She had caught it out of the corner of her eye, during an anxiety dream where she and her relatives were drowning in a sinking car within a lake. She knew that she could not make the orb appear out of thin air, so she sheepishly bent behind the soma cases and pulled with her hand from underneath them, the forest green sphere with gold filigree.

She held it up triumphantly for Lazareth to see. It changed in her hand into a kitten, which bounded away before changing into a cinnamon stick, and finally disappearing.

“Whoopsie,” she said with her now famous squinted eye grin, eyes sparkling.

Lazareth took a deep breath, and held his hand to his chin, thinking. “You must know without forgetting to know that the object will always be there, while simultaneously forgetting that the object did not ever exist before you created it. In this manner, you create a past for it, it always existed. Then and only then will the form maintain itself. “He sighed, slightly perturbed. “Monadh, one object is child’s play for my people. I have every confidence in your abilities, but to give you the full scope of this art, we have “maintainers” of our cities, on my planet. Their job is to maintain the form of our structures, literally blocks and blocks of buildings, artwork, sidewalks, sculpture and roads. They created the city, object by object, and maintain its form, changing it to more aesthetically pleasing on the suggestions of others or at their own whim, but may I stress here, maintaining every detail of a whole city through thought. Try again to produce your orb.”

Monadh-Frith was game. She reached under the soma cases, and since she had done it before, she “knew” she could produce it again . . . there it was, a forest green glass orb with gold filigree. She tucked it under her arm and knew it would be there. She tried to fool herself that it had never not been there. To her amazement, it stayed beneath her forearm. She inspected it, taking in every detail of the design.

“So I have to hold this orb all day?” she asked Lazareth.

“Maintain its form, and then we will work on your form. The one you are to present when you leave Noah’s Arc.”

“Wait, if I don’t sleep anymore, what’s a day?” she asked next.

“You will soon know what true rest from your ‘day’ is.” Said Lazareth.

Monadh-Frith loved looking in the botanical gardens of the ship, running her fingers over the different plants. She was sure to keep an eye on her orb, and so far it had become permanent. The botanical gardens had misters set on timers, and she was surprised to find out she could “feel” the mist when it came on. She longed to make her potions and extracts; she had always enjoyed the smell of certain herbs as they were crushed in the suribachi. It slowly occurred to her that Noah’s Arc had been to several water planets, not just Earth, as there were strains of plants unfamiliar to her. The command room was off limits, even to Lazareth, so she remained in the dark about how they flew. There were many, many other non –physical entities aboard the ship, and most of them did not choose a humanoid form. Lazareth and she used the soma case room as a meeting place, often she would return to walk in on strange scenes as Lazarus mingled among his people in the room. He told her of a union that they were invited to; two entities on the ship had decided to meld their souls into one to produce a double soul that would from then on never exist apart. It was like lovemaking and a marriage, but even more special as it was a union of souls, and everyone on the ship was invited.

Before then, however, Lazareth wanted to show Monadh-Frith what true rest was, as it had been a “day”.

“We are going to take a journey. You will not need your orb anymore.”

(Monadh was still carrying it around, and sighed a sigh of relief.) “Can I give it as a wedding present to the souls that are to be joined?”

“Place it next to the soma cases and we will see if it is still there after our journey. You will have to see if it maintains its existence on its own, if it is strong enough to exist without your awareness of it. In this journey you may take any form you wish, or allow your form to slide due to your reactions. We will rest and then meet back on the ship. Look at your physical body, study it well. You may be so disoriented, that you need to return to it, and ‘wake up’ to meet me again. I will be waiting in the soma room when you are ready to return. I am taking you to the well of souls.”

“You are taking me to the Oztar?” Monadh-Frith asked in wonder.

“Yes, to the body of Adam in some of your Earth religions, the ‘birdhouse’ in others.”

“You must follow me, in order to do that, we will hold hands and fly, so that you will be oriented, although we could just dissolve into it from any space, as there is no distance when one communicates with God. Do you know how to astral travel through solid matter, as some get stuck within the atoms of walls. . .”

Monadh-Frith had spent many hours traveling out of body on Earth, and nodded her consent.

She put the orb down (she kind of liked it by now, similar to a pet), and took Lazareth’s hand. They used their will to get off of the ground (this part was simple) and fly through the ceiling of the ship. Monadh was struck by the sheer number of stars in outer space.

They astral traveled, they flew through the stars. It was beautiful in the vacuum of space. There was a planet near, but Lazareth did not head towards it. It was orange, with clouds swirling on the surface and absolutely breathtaking.

The Oztar, or well of souls turned out to be on the other side of a black hole. As Lazareth explained it, the black hole sucked up the souls of the dead, they were transported through a wormhole (the “tunnel” people with near death experiences spoke of) and ejected out a white hole into the Seventh Heaven to be born again. Thus the “well of souls” was an integral part of reincarnation. To Monadh-Frith’s surprise, Lazareth said they were to travel through.

Chapter Five

They reached the event horizon of the black hole. Light was bending into it, being sucked in. Monadh-Frith wanted to hold her breath, instinctually, as if jumping into a whirlpool. Lazareth indicated that he would not go in until he received her ready signal. She thought of what he had said waited at the other end, it being motivation enough, she signaled Lazareth with a “come here” motion of her hand. As she stepped off of the edge of the event horizon, Monadh-Frith lost track of Lazareth. Time seemed to slow down, and she felt her astral body stretch and distort in a tremendous manner. Right when she felt like she had been “falling” forever, she reached the singularity and was spit into the wormhole. Like a cross between a roller coaster and a waterslide (with the promise of light at the other end), she rode the wormhole only to be distorted again before (finally) being spit out the white hole’s event horizon into Seventh Heaven.

Lazareth and Monadh-Frith stood in front of a plane of existence that looked like a horizontal sky. Lazareth bowed to the expanse of Infinity.

“Monadh-Frith, pay your respects, you are about to step out into the Seventh Heaven.”

She prostrated.

“I want to warn you that the Seventh Heaven is interpreted uniquely to each individual. I will see something entirely different than yourself.”

Monadh-Frith nodded, curious at the idea. She once again took Lazareth’s hand. He nodded his consent, and they stepped trepidatiously into Infinity.

The first thing Monadh-Frith noticed was a sharp intelligence, a vast knowing made of light. Infinity parted like two dimensional mist and her mind was infiltrated by a benevolent, yet knowing force. Although it did not speak, she realized her unspoken questions would and could be answered. As she wondered how she would interpret God, Heaven, and Everything, the mist coalesced into a scene. She stood in a vast plateau, wind blowing her skirt around her legs, and pushing the grain shoots over. From Nowhere, a man walked up. He looked like the typical Indian shaman, bright colored clothing, leather moccasin boots, feathers in long black hair, dark skin, crow’s feet. He did a little dance, humming and slapping his thighs to the beat for several minutes. An irish wishing well appeared next to him, wavering a little in the sunlight, like a mirage, before settling into itself. Still humming a melodious chant like drone, he took a single gourd from the many at his belt. He dipped the gourd into the well, and with movements made of tranquility, he removed another gourd from his belt, and poured from one gourd to the other. Then, dancing some more, increasing his tempo, he bent to pour both gourds on the ground, releasing what Monadh-Frith had knowledge of as soulmates to the Earth.

This peaceful scene touched Monadh-Frith deeply, and she knew it would be with her for the rest of her life.

But even as Monadh-Frith had this thought, she was suddenly on the Event Horizon of a different Black Hole, hurtling through the worm hole and stretching through another singularity only to be spit back out in space. Lazareth came trailing after.

“What did you see?” she asked him, hungry for a tale as colorful as her own experience.

Lazareth opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came out for a moment. When he did speak, it came out as one syllable for each paragraph of thought, disconnected word salad of a cacophony of sound. He was speaking in tongues. He remained in this state for quite awhile, and Monadh-Frith accommodated this experience, even when his eyes rolled up in his head. His arms were outstretched, palms up in a gesture similar to the way artist’s portray Christ during the transfiguration.

When he came out of it, Monadh-Frith laughed, “That hard to explain?” she winked.

Chapter Six

It soon became evident that Lazareth was not going to come out of it without “physical” contact, so Monadh-Frith touched his arm reverently. The next thing she knew, she was opening actual physical eyes in the soma capsule. She could feel her body about to sputter, cough and drown, so she rolled out sideways again. She stood next to the now-still body in the soma capsule and gazed upon it longingly. Never had she been out of body so long as to miss the wizened old thing, but she did now. Lazareth repeated the syllables she heard the last time he left his body, in her mind, and she saw the glowing gold orb leave from his physical third eye yet again. He stood next to her, settling into a ghostly apparition of the humanoid form.

“The union is about to begin. We had to return in the quickest manner possible. Sorry for the abrupt departure from the Oztar.”

“The wedding?”, said Monadh-Frith, glancing around for her pet sphere. It sat next to the soma cases as she marveled at her ability to maintain form.

“That is a quite simplistic description of what is about to take place, Monadh.” Said Lazareth.

Monadh-Frith decided to try on a new form for herself, to maintain it as well as the sphere. She chose an angelic pair of white feathered wings and carefully materialized them on her back. “I am ready.” She spoke aloud.

Lazareth took one look at the wings and decided to revert to his familiar golden orb. His people knew him in this form with much more familiarity.

The union took place in a hangar type area of the ship. The entire ship’s population were there, and although many of the forms were incomprehensible to Monadh-Frith’s terrestrial self, she made out quite a few familiar symbols. There were several different Egyptian ankh types, distinguishable by the color, or jewels encrusted upon the symbol, or auras around them. Another popular form for Lazareth’s people seemed to be the pyramid with the eye. A few female types chose wood nymph forms, and she made out a few kundalini snakes around a staff.

The union couple were two simple orbs like Lazareth. As they approached, music welled out of the walls of the ship, a complex melody similar to 16th century classical. The audience “applauded” silently, more of a strong feeling of respect for the ceremony that was about to begin. As all physical form is created with light waves and sound waves, when the actual union took place, not only did Monadh-Frith’s heart break with poignancy, but a third, separate form was created when the two orbs melded into one another. A many faceted sparking diamond type light form was created, refracting rainbows onto the crowd, and liquid rainbows danced above their heads and joined to finally settle on a double helix. The joined souls, now forever linked, spiraled their multicolored union into life. A very “loud” round of “applause”, the palpable appreciation spread throughout the hangar, and the union was complete. Monadh-Frith, being careful to maintain her wings, placed the orb on an altar table at the front of the room. A line of party goers were placing offerings there, so she was not out of line according to their traditions. Many gold coins, paper money, and rings were laid out on the altar, much incense was lit and a band started in with an Eastern Indian type influenced dance beat. The forms, rather than gyrating to the beat, to dance, changed their fluidity, expressing their joyousness in as many forms as possible, and the entire party was too much for Monadh-Frith’s Earthly mind to encompass, so she excused herself to retreat to the soma room.

Lazareth found her there. “Noah’s Arc is about to enter orbit around my planet. Have you realized the usefulness of stalking vs. dreaming when it comes to your astral body?” he asked.

“Apparently, fluidity of the astral body, on your planet, is not a slippage of concentration, as in my case, “ said Monadh-Frith, “ but an art form used for expression of emotion or mood.”

“Exactly.” Said Lazareth.

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