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Chaosium Digest Volume 24 Number 04
Chaosium Digest Volume 24, Number 4
Date: Sunday, March 15, 1998
Number: 2 of 3
Contents:
-..and the Subtle Planes (Doyle Ramos-Tavener) NEPHILIM
--------------------
From: tavener@swbell.net
Subject: ...and the Subtle Planes
System: Nephilim
** THE NATURE OF AGARTHA AND THE SUBTLE PLANES, PART TWO **
THE SUBTLE PLANES
And why should this Insight allow access to the Subtle Planes?
I think that when the Agarthan Insight is achieved, one merges with
the Solar-Ka of not just the current host, but of all the previous
Simulacrums. This could be simulated by averaging all the Solar-Ka
ratings of the previous Simulacrums in order to determine the
Agarthan's initial Solar-Ka rating.
This intermingling of lives produces a sort of perspective that allows
one, I believe, to interact with the world on a Mythic basis.
Consider a Human before Incarnation. Their perspective is that of the
mundane, material world. After Incarnation, they achieve a spiritual
view of the world, though the use of Ka-Vision. When a Nephilim
becomes an Agarthan, his viewpoint changes again, acquiring a Mythic
perspective.
All those lives swimming inside of one gives lie to the view of
sequential time. Timelessness is one of the hallmarks of the Mythic
perspective. It is as if the new Agarthan is confronted by an
unassailable truth (that of the Mythic nature of his own existence)
and follows the logical train of thought, "If I am Mythic, is not the
whole world Mythic?"
Let me continue with my fictional example:
He sat on the park bench, wondering what his name was. "I suppose it
is still Harmenides, if it is any name at all, for that is the name I
have had the most." Yet, he knew this to be at least a partial lie.
All around him the Fields swelled and ebbed, but there was more. It
was as if those humans, who would have before seemed to be but
flickering flames, now seemed patterns of flame, designed by the
conscious and unconscious activities of his kind.
There was a businessman, walking down the street, and eventually
toward home. His pattern was ancient, the path of the Patria, who was
master and protector of hearth and home. Tuwardis first developed that
path well over ten thousand years ago, and here was this human, still
walking it. Over there was an indigent, mumbling to himself with Night
Train inspired dreams, following a debased version of the Dionysic
Mysteries. There was a young woman, walking into a club, newfound
initiate into Sappho's path. And on, and on.
There was more. He saw the city around him, not as the ritual center
intended as the true nature of cities, but instead as the
Temple-inspired cathedral to Power, massive skyscrapers like
balustrades, supporting the Myth of the immortal society, which would
continue long after the individual. The Temple of Man. He knew that
he was deep within the bowels of a place of power and it was the
Temple's place of power, not his own. He walked in a world of Myth,
little of it pure, most of it debased.
It was then that Rakhos came to him.
"He shone with a grace previously given only to Messengers, filled
with the Word..." It had been many years since he had first heard
that utterance, but he recalled it now, as Rakhos approached, and
said,
"Hello".
and sat down at the park bench beside him.
"Tell me", he began, "what was it like?"
"It would be most disingenuous for me not to express my surprise - I
would have thought you already had known exactly what it was like".
He paused for a moment, with a smile. "There was no fanfare of
trumpets."
"There rarely is. There are few constants, you understand. Each
experience is unique. There is one circumstance that never
changes..."
"And it is?"
"One is always alone."
They spoke at some length then, sharing their experiences and
observations. Harmenides asked about the patterns imposed on the
humanity that surrounded them. "How is it that I had not seen these
before?"
"By way of answering you, let me ask a question. How many pairs of
eyes do you see with?"
Harmenides thought a moment, Jokannon was impatient, Akmeni was
worried that followers of the Temple were nearby, La Tour wanted a
drink, Farbras was interested, but thought all of this was so much
faddle, and Atheling was worried about his daughter.
"Six. Six pairs of eyes".
"Yes, and now reflect upon this. If two eyes, fixed upon an object,
cause the object to appear to have greater depth then if one had only
a single eye, how much more depth would be accorded to the object,
observed with twelve eyes?"
"I see".
"Moreover, these patterns, as you call them, are the key to the Subtle
Planes".
He drew back a moment, as if considering his words.
"Imagine, if you will, that these patterns are texts, imprinted on
every human. These same texts become imprinted on the Magic Fields, so
that they achieve a nature unto themselves. The Fields these texts
affect can then be interacted with.''
"I am not sure that I follow you..."
"Consider that all we do impinges of the Fields. The patterns by
which we live our lives, and those of our ways that are adopted by
humanity, are all written on the body of the world. By actions which
are in accordance with these texts, we can enter them directly, and
affect them and be affected by them".
"I am most afraid I still do not follow you."
"You will". He got off the park bench. "Walk with me a moment, will
you?"
"My daughter..."
"Will be fine. I have placed a Watcher over her".
Harmenides had begun to notice that the air was freezing, and yet his
breath drew no frost. He looked at his body, and saw nothing but Ka.
As he strode, he knew that flowers would grow, inexplicably, where he
now trod. What would others say, when they saw the flowers growing in
the concrete?
Rakhos interrupted his reverie. "The texts you see in the humanity
around you, though originated by the Nephilim, are passed on by
humanity's culture. Thus their corrupt nature. As such, one does not
necessarily interact with humanity to interact with the Subtle Planes.
He then turned to me, suddenly. "Are you angry?"
I replied, with some astonishment, that I was.
He smiled. "As well you should be. Are you not human?"
After a moment, I replied. "Yes".
"So it seems... rude to you to discuss the flawed nature of humanity.
Why criticize a blind man for his lack of vision? Correct?"
"Yes".
"I tell you this so that when you interact mythically with humanity,
you will recognize that you might do them great harm. An example is
in order, I think. Look you there".
I saw that we come out of the city, into the country, in a short
amount of time. I must confess that I gaped. Rakhos said only, "Oh
yes, The Road. I will tell you more of that later. Look at the farm
house as we approach".
There was a small farmhouse, directly to our right. As we approached,
we heard the sounds of a lament, and saw a young girl, crying to
herself, behind a shed. It was evidently a 'special' place, where she
went to be alone. My own daughter had such a place, when she was
younger. As we came nearer, she rose, composed herself with great
dignity (or so I thought) and returned to her home. I noted, surprised
again, that flowers grew in her steps. I turned to Rakhos for some
explanation, but he merely pointed to the house and continued walking.
Following his gaze, I noticed that the house had begun to grow in both
height and width. As we came closer, it assumed the dimensions of a
fantastic keep, the likes of which I had never before seen in my
lives. Before we entered, Rakhos warned me to speak to no one, no
matter what entreaties they might give. "For this is a dangerous
Place," he said, "and we do not, strictly speaking, belong here."
As we entered the great hall of the keep, my attention was drawn to an
enormous figure, both fat and gigantic, which slumped in a throne at
one end. It was sleeping, and there was nothing about it except for a
stone vase, with sharp pointed stone columns in it. I realized that
these were spears.
"Who is that?" asked Rakhos.
"It is Chief-Giant Ysbadden", I answered.
"Yes, but it also Paul Estremont. The daughter is not only Olwen, but
also Nancy Estremont. He abuses her, and so the source of her lament
is known".
"How did you know?"
"It fit the pattern. Her abuse is written on her body, and his
decrepit state is manifest. Come, let us go away before he awakens".
"Should we not intervene?"
"Neither of us is the Suitor. If we were to confront him, it would
only be to our loss. Further, he would become more Ysbadden, if you
take my meaning, and this will make it more difficult for the Suitor,
when he comes."
"He? It seems somewhat..."
"Sexist? It is, in the pure sense. Nevertheless, she requires aid to
leave him. It need not be a boyfriend, or a fiance. It could be a
Social Worker, or a family friend. The Suitor need not even be male.
Come, let us be on our way".
I followed, reluctantly, and asked if we were indeed on a Subtle
Plane, even now.
"Partly. If we had intervened, he would have reacted, to our
perceptions, as Ysbadden. His perceptions would have been most likely
that of a man with two intruders in his home. We would have seemed to
have been killed by his shotgun, and no amount of magic would have
prevented this result. We would have perceived having been pierced by
those poisonous columns he laughingly calls spears".
"Are all the Subtle Planes so contiguous with the mundane world?"
"Hardly. Most of the Subtle planes visited by our kind are not
contiguous at all, except with text which they are based on"
As we left (doubt in my heart) I again queried about the nature of
'The Road', as he had put it.
"That is a simple quest. One only needs to travel down a road, any
road, with the proper amount of ritual and intent. Then one must
confront the dangers that lie upon any road. There are three in
number: brigands, losing your way, and the temptation to stray off the
path. Each of these would take form to challenge you.
If you succeed, and arrive safely at the center, you will learn a
great secret: All Roads are One. Then, you can travel to any place in
the mundane world that is connected to a road system as quickly as a
stroll to a neighbor's house".
We returned to The Road without further comment. It seemed to stretch
before us, behind and forward, into infinity. But my awe was
insufficient to stifle my continued questioning.
"Tell me, what is the nature of these texts for the Subtle Planes that
are not contiguous with the mundane world? How does one interact with
them?"
"Through Ritual. You are a master of Ritual, are you not? In the same
way that ritual draws down power into the mundane world, Ritual can be
used to enter the Mythic World, the Subtle Planes".
I thought on this a moment. We used ritual in magic to make the
Mundane world conform to our will. This is made possible, because we
emulate and call upon great powers.
When I call upon Thunor to smite my enemies with his thunder (a work
of Fire magic, which I am not adept at), I act, in a way, as Thunor
himself. Yet, it seems altogether a different thing to call upon
Thunor in order to enter Asgard. I brought this concern to Rakhos'
attention.
"Imagine for a moment that you are an ancient Norseman. How would you
travel to Asgard?"
"I would die in battle".
"There is that, certainly, but are there other methods?"
"I suppose that I could get on a longship, and sail north, until I saw
Bifrost".
"Just so. Can you imagine a ritual which might bring Bifrost to you?"
"There are Air magics, governed by Mercury, that will form a
rainbow. But a rainbow is always in the distance. How does one arrive
at it?"
"Summon the rainbow".
"I would need a circle, as well as my implements..."
"No, you do not. Summon the rainbow".
It was more of a command than I had heard him assume before, but I
complied. I believe, in some subtle way, that he was aiding my magic,
for Air magics do not come that easily to me. And it was the middle of
the night.
Or so I had assumed. But as I intoned the ritual, The sun began to
rise above the horizon, its first rays striking the dew-laden air of
the morning. To this day, I do not know if my magic would have been
necessary for the rainbow to appear, so perfect were the conditions of
the dawn.
As it appeared, we walked The Road toward it. The rainbow grew
broader, and broader, until it was the road, under our feet and we
walked through a dark void.
"All Roads are One," he said to me, "and what is Bifrost if not a
bridge, which is road over a great gulf?"
As I viewed the gulf, the void below us, I trembled.
At length we came to a great plain, dominated by... a city? I would
not have called it so. There were a great many halls, beautifully and
masterfully built. There were walls, made of huge giant-wrought
stones. And there was a guardian, bearing a sword, at a gate before
us. Rakhos stepped forward and spoke, in a language with which I was
unfamiliar. He turned to me, and said,
"Yggdrasil awaits us. We must climb to arrive at our destination".
I questioned him no more. Here, my awe was complete. On the plain,
there was a tree, whose leaves, as we approached it, seem to overrun
the sky. It was gnarled, and as we drew closer, I realized that the
grooves were huge, so that one could walk down the side of the tree as
if it were a staircase.
As we descended, I found my voice, and asked, "That was Heimdall?"
"Yes, and no. I knew him as Duerin, who achieved Agartha before I
had." I suppose my shock was evident, for he continued without further
question. "He had been worshipped as Heimdall around 600. When he
found it necessary to travel here, he was...sublimated. There are many
dangers for those who make these journeys, not the least of which is
being swallowed by the texts that we ourselves helped write. You were
never a god, were you?"
"No".
"I had not thought so".
By this time, we had begun to walk a great branch, instead of
descending. The branch slowly became a path, and we found ourselves in
a great coniferous forest. I cast a questioning glance at my
companion.
"Alfheim. But we do not tarry here. There is another forest, more
primeval than this, and elves that are far older, that I wish you to
see. It is a simple thing to go from one place of elves to another".
He turned to me directly, and said, "You, Elf, hold the key to the
place which we which to travel to. Remember we wish to travel to a far
older forest. Show us the way".
It was a challenge, of sorts. I held no doubts that he already knew
the way. I thought for a moment.
It is a paradox that as forests grow older, they grow smaller. Only
forests of the past are great.
I reached out (again, without a circle) and sung to the trees around
us, imploring their aid, making them grow thicker, higher, making the
growth overwhelm us.
And so we walked more, the forest around us growing thicker and
thicker, until we saw a great clearing, where many Elves moved about,
singing trees into shapes, both pleasant and bittersweet. The Elves
themselves seemed both ancient and young, and though they laughed,
there were shadows in their eyes. They were Fey.
"What is the place?"
"It is hell, or a variety thereof. Here you see the Fallen".
"They are KaIm?"
"No. They are Nephilim. The first Nephilim, condemned by the Fall of
Atlantis to a single form, which if destroyed, consigns them to
dissolution. They are our forbears, and they have passed away, long
ago".
"Have we truly passed back through time to the Age of Water?"
"This is but a shadow of that time. A shadow that is cast upon the
Fields, and so remains forever. All the Ages of the Earth cast such a
shadow.
"Even Akhet-Aton?"
"Yes, even there. But do not believe that you can retrieve the Tablets
and distribute them to the Arcana. I was there, with Akhenaton, many
lives ago. The Subtle Plane which corresponds to our city is not the
same as the city itself".
I listened intently, offering no comment.
"It is a Mythic Akhet-Aton, and unlike the city I knew. In the Temple
of the Sun, Akhenaton sits on a throne, enflamed with Solar rays, but
does not speak or move. The Tablets are there, but few who read them
find what they seek".
He drew close, his face inches from mine. "Have you seen a Summoning
of Djoser, the Egregor of the Magician?"
I told him I had, during the affair of the Serpent Moon.
"That is not the same Djoser I remember, from my lifetime in
Akhet-Aton. It is, however, the Egregor who exists on the Subtle Plane
of Akhet-Aton".
My eyes grew wide. "Are all summoned beings so? What of the Worlds,
Atziluth and the others?"
"Nephilim can experience these worlds. The Loa war upon one of
them. So we thought these must be the places where...They come
from. But the truth is stranger still".
"Our actions, while on the Subtle Planes, do not change them. They are
eternal, timeless and do not change unless the 'texts' they are based
on change. These 'texts' do not change quickly. Some of them seem to
have never changed".
"These are not places. It is an error to think that they exist outside
our perception of them".
"What then is Summoning?"
"All true Grimoires are written by Agarthans, or near-Agarthan
Nephilim. All are derived from Agarthan experiences, transformed into
formal ritual, and then disseminated by these Agarthans."
He waved his hand at the Elves, working in the forest. "One could
conceivably summon these, given the correct ritual. But they are not
as frightening as Demons".
"Let us go away from this place. Soon the Dragons will come, and then
the Orichalka Men".
There was a path away from the clearing. Soon we were on The Road once
more, though it was only for the briefest of times. Before long, we
arrived at the hospital where my daughter was dying. He turned his
head suddenly, and then said to me, "There is a stranger in the room
of you daughter." A moment more passed. "It is a Templar".
I would have turned and run, but Rakhos held me. There were the usual
threats, but he compelled me to listen.
"I know this Templar. He will offer to cure your child's cancer, if
you will betray your secrets".
"How can he do that?", I cried angrily
"Because he gave her the cancer in the first place".
I ceased my struggles and turned to him.
"Now, he cannot perceive us unless he invokes the Second Sight. If you
are now calm, we can go together to your daughter, and I will tell you
more".
As we entered the room, I saw him, a dark, well-groomed man in a
suit. He was staring out the window. My daughter was in a deep sleep,
and appeared unmolested.
Rakhos spoke, "He, no doubt, has had your daughter watched for some
time. It is an old ruse. He awaits your return to make his offer".
"He must have given her the disease some years ago, in the hopes you
would return to her. But it makes little difference, does it?"
I turned to stare at him, but said not a word.
"If she were capable of being healed, you would have already done
so. Is that not so?"
I said nothing for a moment, and then replied, "The cancer is too
advanced. If I were to heal her, she would undergo unbearable pain,
pain that would last after the cancer was gone".
"Just so. What is your course?"
I turned from him, for he already knew. I reached out to my daughter
with Fire magic, and lay still her heart.
The monitor began to scream as we left the room. When we were outside,
I spoke one last time to Rakhos,
"Go away from me, and seek me out no more. You are not responsible for
what has happened here, but I would as soon as not see your face
again".
"I would expect no less. We all enter Agartha alone". And with that,
he was gone.
I sat on the park bench along time, thinking not of Enlightenment, or
Agartha, but of my daughter's touch.
After a while, I got up, and started walking down The Road.
Let me now summarize the main points of my essay:
1. The Agarthan insight is the realization that you and your
Simulacrums were one being all along.
2. This allows the Nephilim to merge with the Solar-Ka of all one's
previous Simulacrums. This means that the ex-Nephilim gains a Solar-Ka
equal to the average of the previous Sim's Solar-Ka ratings.
3. The result of multiple perspectives, the New Agarthan can perceive
the structural patterns that underlie most human behavior and
perception.
4. The patterns are imprinted into the magical Fields.
5. Agarthans can interact with these patterned Fields in at least two
ways.
a) By interacting with mundane situations and individuals that conform
to Mythic patterns.
b) By using ritual action to engage directly Mythic experiences. These
are what are normally referred to as the Subtle Planes.
6. These "Planes" do not have a separate existence of their own. They
are experiences, which are undergone by Agarthans
7. It is possible to become "sucked in" to a Mythic pattern that
starts out as a mundane situation. I believe that high-ranking members
of the Secret Societies know this fact, and use this knowledge against
Agarthans when they are identified as such, in order to destroy
them. This might explain the reluctance of Agarthans to become
involved in mundane matters, except in the most subtle and secret of
ways.
8. It is also possible to become "sublimated" into a Mythic pattern
that one was responsible for in the past. This is most notable in
being swallowed by the god-figure, on the Subtle Planes, that one
assumed the role of on the Mundane world.
9. There are a number of advantages to "visiting" the Subtle
Planes. This is the place where an Agarthan gains more mystical
insights into the nature of both the Mythic and Mundane worlds, which
can manifest as special abilities, increased Ka, esoteric knowledge,
etc.
10. Among these goals include returning to Atlantis before the fall. I
personally believe that the successful result of such a quest is the
adoption of Orichalka as a seventh Ka-Element in the Agarthan, which
would make one immune to Orichalka, among other effects.
11. The final and ultimate Agarthan quest would be the rejoining of
the Agarthan to the Godhead at the moment of creation. I believe that
only one Agarthan has gotten this far and come back (more on that in
my next essay, A History of God (for Nephilim)).
12. I believe that all Summoned entities, with the exception of
Elemental Creatures, originate in the Subtle Planes, not in the
'Summoning Worlds'. The existence of such entities is extrapolated
from Holy Texts, such as the Bible, and an Agarthan then goes on a
quest to determine if such entities are supported by the "texts" of
the Subtle Planes. (For more on this process, see my upcoming version
2 of the R-T Summoning Rules.)
--
