© Copyright 2003 by silli_artie@hotmail.com
This work may not be reposted or redistributed without the prior
express written permission of the author.
A work of fiction, meant for adults. Read something else if you are
not an adult, or are offended by stories with sexual content. Then
again, if all you’re looking for is in-out, in-out, in-out, you
should probably read something else. I welcome constructive comments.
Enjoy.
Most people go through their lives without ever recognizing it, encountering it, without ever coming close. Some, like us, seek it out, seek to cross the veil. Or are we drawn to it? Are we predestined to bridge the worlds, passing through the veil? Are we drawn to it by larger forces? I don't know. For some, the closest they come to the veil is the fleeting flash during orgasm. And there are others, for the most part less fortunate, who fall through the veil unprepared.
This is an old story. This is our story. It has many different names. The Path is old, so old. But the steps we take along it are always new.
The Paths are many; but involve two main approaches: those for the solitary, and those working with a partner; they intertwine. While the partner path is better known, it is strewn with distractions. It is so easy to get caught up in the moment and loose sight of the Path. Yet, the Path is not a Goal; that is another one of the traps for the unwary.
This story is evolving. The framework that hold it will change, and new parts will be added. The parts may not fit together seamlessly -- but that’s life. The parts of our lives seldom have sharp, defined edges. When does adolescence end and adulthood begin? There is no sharp line.
*
After a long period of work, I knew what I had been doing was not the Path; not for me, not at this time. We must all follow the Rules. I had too much to gain to cause someone harm in this manner. I could not, and would not harm someone, even though I was close. To proceed along this path would harm Julie; that I knew. I knew she was willing -- she would do whatever I asked of her, and do it with all her soul, without fear of consequence to herself. But I could not allow her to step into the flame, even though she would, even though she would beg me to.
If that was not the Way, then there must be another; one of the few things I knew was that there is not just one true Path; the paths are many, as many as those who seek them.
I looked again at the old arts, acupuncture and Chinese medicine. It was hard reading the ancient texts; it was hard getting access to them so I could read them. But with help I did. Eventually I identified a particular root that should be of use. When I asked the old gentleman I usually deal with, he at first feigned ignorance, but quickly smiled, knowing I could see through his deception. He told me it was a rare item; he did not have it, but would give me the name of someone who could assist.
I thanked him. He gave me the name and address and a wistful look. It was a small shop in San Francisco -- I was lucky, expecting to have to go once more to Hong Kong to find what I was looking for. This was a short drive.
The owner of that shop was an even older gentleman. On a cold foggy afternoon I went into his shop for the first time. He asked me in perfect English if he could help. I looked at him and closed my eyes briefly, breathing in, then looked at him again with second sight. His aura was vibrant, different somehow; he had pierced the veil.
I opened my eyes and he smiled. I spoke in my best Mandarin, bowing and telling him I was on a long journey, and been given his name as one who may be able to help. I handed him the small piece of paper with the name and description of the root.
He looked at the carefully drawn characters for a moment and frowned. "Who wrote this?" he demanded in English, speaking as if to a child.
I bowed and said, "I did."
"Do you know what this is for?" he asked, still speaking as he would to a child.
My head was still bowed. I had shown enough modesty and humility for today. I took a breath, gathering prana from both worlds. I raised my head and looked at him, dropping my concealment, letting him see the Adept before him. "Yes," I said softly, sending my answer to him as a blow.
He deftly declined my gift and smiled softly. "Please, sit down." He offered me a chair in the corner of the shop. We sat down. I felt him look at me from both worlds. He nodded his head once, almost a bow. He reached for my right wrist and felt my pulses, closing his eyes briefly to better see with his fingers. He felt the pulses in my left wrist. I dropped any animosity I had; he was a master. I bowed my head and apologized for my behavior.
He smiled and said, "I will make tea." He stood and left the small room.
He returned a few minutes with a teapot and two cups. The tea was one I'd never tasted before. We talked a bit about my journey, how I had learned of this particular root. He asked me about other herbs; we talked about them. We eventually returned to my request. He told me it was difficult, but not impossible; it would be expensive and take time.
Too often in the past I’d received this speech -- difficult, expensive, long time -- to cover for inability or unwillingness. With him, I felt the honesty of his words. I told him I understood.
I asked if he would sell me some of the tea we had. He laughed and went into the back of his shop. He returned with a small bag. "A gift, to help you on your journey. Take before your morning meditation." I thanked him and left.
September almost ten months later I received a postcard in the mail; it was from him. The message was simple. It told me to be at his shop 9AM on a Wednesday morning. Interesting; the times I'd gone back to buy more of the tea, he didn't open before noon. I would be there. That night was the full moon, but I was already prepared.
As I walked up to his shop that morning I sensed her from more than a block away, then saw her as I got closer to the shop door. Her back was to me, but not for long. I didn't need second sight to feel her presence; it was strong. She felt my presence and turned quickly. She smiled.
I walked up slowly. She was about my age, long brown hair, green eyes. She looked to be European; tall, clear skin, an expressive face framed with medium length dark hair. She looked to be fit; it was hard to tell with the coat she was wearing. I noticed her earrings -- pentagrams in silver. I reached into my shirt and pulled out the pentacle on its silver chain, leaving it visible on my chest.
Even though we'd never met before, we embraced. It was second nature for both of us; we ran our hands over meridians sensing and raising energy in the other, and as our hands moved from each other's backs up to the shoulders, we kissed, allowing the energy to rise.
We fit together, body and soul. Our first kiss ended and we looked at each other, feeling the energy mingle and tingle around and through us.
"Marry me," I asked her.
"Of course," she said. We laughed.
"Did you come here for it as well?" she asked, fingering the talisman on my chest.
I named it and she nodded her head. "But now we don't need it," I told her.
She laughed and nodded, knowing it was true. Now that we'd found each other, we could take the other path. Then I laughed harder, my head going back. Why hadn't I seen it before!
"What is it?" she asked.
I looked at her, ran fingers through the hair at the back of her head, cherishing her. "The characters -- they look like the characters for joining, long journey."
She laughed. "I hadn't thought of it that way, yes. We don't need it, but it will make the journey easier."
I nodded. "Yes, and we have a debt to pay, a large debt."
She nodded once more and we kissed again.
We stopped at the sound of the shop door being opened. He beamed at us and ushered us in.
We all laughed; we hugged him and thanked him.
We went back through his shop to the living quarters in back. He had tea set for three. On the table with the tea was a small clear bag containing gnarled roots.
We sat down and he poured tea for us. We bowed to him and thanked him again.
She said, "You know we don't need it now, you have given us something so much better."
He laughed; such a wonderful amused laugh. He pushed the bag to us. "I know. It is yours; it will make your journey easier."
"What do we owe you; what can we do for you?" I asked him. Like a child, I had asked him for help opening a small door; instead he had brought us together and shown us the great gate.
He smiled, a little more somber. He looked at us silently. She said, "How can we repay you?" He bowed his head and stood, leaving the table. He went to a cabinet and removed a small scroll, unrolling it, putting it between us. Many of the characters were of an extremely old style I didn't quite recognize. I recognized enough though. A tingle went through me as I was going over part of it; I knew what he wanted. I'd run across references to it in my studies. But now I was looking at it. It had to be hundreds of years old -- at least.
Holding her hand combined our energies, complementing each other, filling in the gaps. Looking at the scroll, reading and understanding it, then looking at him, now I understood what I'd seen in his aura the first time we'd met. He was far older than he looked.
I looked at her. She smiled and nodded. She turned to him. "Do you have all of these?"
He nodded.
She squeezed my hand. "We will need time to prepare, to be sure we can do this; we must be certain we can do it properly, or we cannot attempt it at all."
He nodded again, more somber; he knew the price of failure in what he was asking.
We discussed it for about half an hour; we all understood what he was asking us to do. I looked at her; she at me.
"We need time to prepare," I told him.
He nodded and smiled. "I understand." He knew that preparation might take months. He had the time, and now we knew we did as well.
He gave us the root. I left an envelope with a thousand dollars in it on the counter; she took an envelope from her bag and left it on the counter as well. We bowed again and he let us out of the shop.
We stood outside in the cool San Francisco winter morning. We hugged and kissed again, feeling the unity.
"We can be in Tahoe in four or five hours to get married," I told her.
She laughed. "Let's go to my hotel and get my things first. Where do you live?"
I told her I lived about an hour away; she was from St. Louis, she'd flown in the day before, not knowing when or if she'd return.
We got my car and drove to her hotel; she checked out. When we went to her room, her bags were already packed.
"You were prepared," I told her.
She smiled and hugged me. "For everything but you." We both looked at the large bed, then at each other, and kissed. We knew we could wait.
I knew of a jeweler close by; we picked out two simple bands in silver.
We started back to my place, but stopped along the Great Highway. We got out of the car and sat on a bench by the beach, overlooking the Pacific Ocean. It was cool and gray, a typical San Francisco fall day.
Her name was Tasha; she'd been on the Path for a decade and a half, a couple years longer than I. She was in business for herself, so moving would be easy. We spoke of our matchmaker, of being led to him, and of his request.
"He has done that before," I told her, holding her hands.
She gave me a low laugh, chiding me for stating the obvious.
"So what brought you to the Path?" I asked her.
She smiled. "Ah, I was going to ask the same. Who goes first?"
I sighed. "I will. It’s a sordid tale, but I’m glad to say it has a happy ending."
She laughed, tossing her head back. I felt the sparkle in her.
I looked over the sea, remembering. I shook my head. I’d been lucky to survive.
"It started," I told her, "in my third year of college. I was nineteen."
We held hands silently. She looked at me with understanding and compassion.
"How did you ever escape her domination?" she asked.
I smiled. "I didn’t."
She laughed and said, "So tell me!"
"Ah, but that’s another story, and I want to hear yours first," I said.
She laughed again. "Mine is much like yours, except I started earlier." She got a far away look in her face. "It was the same story: drugs, hypnosis, orgasm. I lived and grew stronger, although at times I wondered."
She looked at me again. I said softly, "No, that’s not the story. Please tell me."
She gave me a wry smile which softened rapidly. "I was very, very lucky. It started one morning with my Uncle Wes dropping dead."
I sighed and squeezed her hands. "You were lucky. Is your aunt still with us?"
She nodded. "She lives in Vancouver."
"Does she know?"
She shook her head. "Where the Path has taken me? Yes and no."
"I’d like very much to meet her."
"Oh, I’m sure you will. But how did you escape Carol?"
I laughed a bit. "I already told you; I didn’t."
"That’s not an answer."
I looked up into the gray sky, flecked with patches of blue. I shuddered a bit, remembering.
"She taught me so little, yet I learned so much. Remember the Rule of Three? That which you do comes back to you three times. She was taking, taking, taking. I was giving, giving, giving. She didn’t have to enslave me; I’d given myself to her the moment we met. Her greed was her downfall. Our last months together I noticed the changes in her. Her skin, her complexion started suffering first, then her overall health. I put so much into visualizing her healthy and vibrant, as she’d been when we met. That undoubtedly helped her."
I sighed and we exchanged glances.
"She’d been using me, using me indirectly to undermine her coven leader, using me as a source of energy to fuel her fire. And, she was successful, but at a terrible price to herself. What she hadn’t expected, though, was the rise of another young woman. Against her she was powerless. By that time she’d taken from me all there was to take; she was becoming bored with me. So she decided to use me once more."
"How?" she asked, looking into my eyes.
"She gave me to her rival, or arranged for it to happen. I’d just finished finals for the year, and had a few weeks off before summer school started, and for that I had a very light schedule, for me at least. She gave me to Gloria, programming me beforehand. Carol thought if I kept Gloria off balance, in an almost constant state of ecstasy, for a couple weeks, she would be able to take over."
Tasha looked at me in amazement, shaking her head. "She really thought that would work?"
I shrugged. "I guess so. That’s the best Gloria and I could figure out at least."
"But it didn’t."
I sighed. "No, it was sad. Carol destroyed herself. When we realized what was happening, we tried to help her. We wanted to, and we could have. But she refused."
She nodded. "The Rule of Three plays no favorites. Did she teach you anything? Did anything happen with Nancy?"
I smiled. "She taught me a great deal of yoga. And as for Nancy, I’ll show you one of the things I showed her."
I let go of her hands and started raising mine. I opened the feeling in my palms as I moved my hands up to near her breasts. My hands were about an inch away, the palms near her nipples and the fingers extending along the sides. I breathed slowly, building the feeling.
Tasha relaxed against the bench and moaned. I sensed her letting go to it, letting herself respond. I continued building it through her body, moving my hands closer. I built it, feeling her respond. Our lovemaking was going to be grand. I shifted the energies, inflaming her whole body as she breathed deep, giving herself to it all.
When I touched her, she moaned and shook in orgasm. I caressed her breasts gently as she gave herself to it. I put my arms around her and held her to me. She held me softly; I could feel the love and warmth radiating from her.
We sat back after a while and she said, "You could do that at 19? You must have been a very popular boy. So, tell me about Nancy."
I laughed. "Nancy was wonderful. She’s a researcher back East. She’ll win the Nobel Prize once people recognize what she’s done. We still see each other occasionally."
We stood up and started walking along the path paralleling the beach, arm in arm. I’d told her of practicing yoga; I still did. There must be a physical component to the Path; the body must be trained. "So what physical arts do you practice?" I asked her.
She hugged my waist. I felt complete; we felt complete.
"I spent the summer after my Junior year with Viv. I didn’t know what she had planned, and my parents didn’t know. We spent it in Vancouver with a Chinese family. I studied Tai Chi, meditation, Mandarin and Cantonese, so much more. I ran and stretched. I was hypnotized almost daily. I was massaged, stretched, pummeled, and stuck full of pins. I don’t think I’ve ever had a more challenging period of my life. It was wonderful. I grew almost two inches. I put on ten pounds and aunt Viv lost twenty. People didn’t recognize us when we got back."
I thought of the wonderful woman I’d gone to for Chinese Medicine.
"The Seven Dragons?" I suggested.
I felt her shudder a bit as we walked along. "One day Master Li took me to another friend for acupuncture. He was from one of the old schools. The two of them talked in Chinese. I could pick up a few words. Master Li had me do some Tai Chi. I’d been practicing about a month, I think. I’d move, and they would stop me, feeling along the meridians. I’d already learned not only to move the body, but to move the body by moving the breath, moving the Chi. They told me they were going to use an old technique, the Seven Dragons, to open up the channels.
Then Master Li surprised me; he did something and put me into a deep trance. I was aware of being on my back, and the other Master started placing the needles. It was incredibly intense. I felt the meridians, and felt them on fire with Chi. I felt blockages as well, and so did they. Some blockages went away with a touch, or a needle. Some we burned away by focusing Chi. I lost it at some point. When I woke up, three hours had passed. I was soaked in sweat, hungry, thirsty, but not tired. Under Master Li’s guidance I did some Tai Chi again. I felt the difference. I thanked the other Master, and we went home. A week later, Viv told me that both Master Li and his friend had been quite shaken by the experience."
I nodded. "A friend of Gloria’s recommended an acupuncture specialist to us; she was an old Chinese woman. I still remember her smile. The first time she tried Seven Dragons with me I was fully conscious; I went into convulsions. She pulled out the needles quickly; some burned her fingers. She consulted with people and we tried again a week later, this time Gloria put me into a deep trance beforehand. As you said, it was intense. We had a number of sessions two days apart. I remember waking up after the last one, drenched with sweat, but feeling so balanced."
"You’ve never studied Tai Chi?" she asked.
"No, not seriously; yoga and Aikido. But I’ve always wanted to study it."
She squeezed my waist gently. "Good, and you’ll teach me yoga."
We stopped to kiss, then turned around to walk to the car.
We stopped by my place; I packed a bag with the essentials. She looked through my library; I showed her the room I used, had her pick out the things we would need. I called my travel agent; I asked her to get me a suite in Tahoe, honeymoon suite if possible, quality more important than price, and I would make it worth her while. She laughed congratulating me.
We got on the road again. We got a call on my cell phone about an hour into the drive; my travel agent with the hotel details. Tasha took the call; she laughed and said it sounded wonderful.
We talked about our journeys, the paths we'd taken. I told her of my attempt and disappointment with Julie; that we needed to help her if we could, undo the damage I'd unintentionally done.
She laughed and told me of a path she'd attempted. We knew there were those who through no fault of their own fell through the veil; while societies in other lands and times revered these as special people, Western society usually labels them insane. They don’t fit into our rigid, post-Cartesian world. She thought she could pull them back from the other side and propel herself over at the same time.
I gasped at the thought, shocked, startled, and in awe at the nature of what she suggested; the risks were incredible. Since she had come for the root and was now sitting next to me, she hadn't succeeded, but she also didn't have total failure either; she was sitting next to me, alive and sane.
"And did you try it?" I had to ask.
She squeezed my hand. "Yes, with three different people. The first almost killed me; I thought I could control him, but my control slipped. I was lucky to survive, physically. The second I was more careful; hypnosis is so difficult with these people; I resorted to drugs. I was partially successful; I pulled her back but at great personal cost. I spent a week drifting back and forth myself. The third was a failure; I abandoned that path -- too dangerous."
What courage that required! I worked with willing participants, sane and wanting very much to please me. Could I pick out someone I knew was half in the other world, control them, and attempt the Great Rite with someone society considered insane? Could I expose myself to someone just as likely to kill me as kiss me?
I put a hand on her shoulder. "I don't know if I have that courage. I'm glad you survived."
She laughed. "So am I. There were times I wasn't sure I would."
*
The Veil
by silli_artie@hotmail.com
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/artie/www
© Copyright 1999 by silli_artie@hotmail.com