On Sunday night, as I returned from Crucible with Simon (and others), the sun sank on 5776, and the Evening Star (who is the Morning Star, mystery of mysteries) dawned on 5777, the year of the revelation of secrets, and the making of Masters Mahan.
Lady of the House, Mistress of Mystery, whose Name is known only in the hearts of the initiated, whispered now as it always has been, in song and story and dream.
This, then, is the mystery you know but have forgotten: There is only one Queen, who rules Light and Dark, who goes Below and arises Again, an eternal cycle, spring following fall and day follows night, the Holy ONE, Blessed Be She:
"In this time, when honey bees lose their buzz, and the tree brings forth blossoms at midwinter, when the Grandfather of Trees makes strong men weep for our folly, Praxidike inclines her head and speaks: Children of Soot, Who Bring Hell to Earth and Earth to Hell, listen to my words and hear them. It is not too late. Artisi Cthonia, she of the snake and the bee, is alive; what dies will rise again. BUT you must make haste to act. Here, in the western reaches of the world, you must raise up a House of Wisdom, a grove for Persphone of the Confluence. Where three rivers meet, the daughter of Life and Death enters into the World Below."
There are those who will tell you that Persephone was stole away by Hades, but that too you know to be false. When you were child, and first heard the story, you knew it, even then, to be a lie.
Πλούτων is the god of the underworld, but he is no cruel devil. In him germinate all seeds, from him arises all wealth. In his darkness, Persephone is held safe, while she storms, while she grows, while she winters.