The Serpent's Song

by S. Robertson

  Table of Contents

  Table of Contents

  Cover

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Back cover

  the

  serpent’s

  Song

  by

  S. Robertson

  CCB Publishing

  British Columbia, Canada

  The Serpent’s Song

  Copyright ©2015 by S. Robertson

  ISBN-13 978-1-77143-233-7

  First Edition

  Library and Archives Canada Cataloguing in Publication

  Robertson, S. (Sally), 1943-, author

  The serpent’s song / by Sally Robertson. -- First edition.

  Issued in print and electronic formats.

  ISBN 978-1-77143-232-0 (pbk.).--ISBN 978-1-77143-233-7 (pdf)

  Additional cataloguing data available from Library and Archives Canada

  Book cover designed by Megan Simpson, Victoria, British Columbia, Canada.

  Megan Simpson may be contacted through her website: http://megansimpsondesigns.com

  This work has been registered with the Canadian Intellectual Property Office:

  Copyright Registration #1118714

  Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events and persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Extreme care has been taken by the author to ensure that all information presented in this book is accurate and up to date at the time of publishing. Neither the author nor the publisher can be held responsible for any errors or omissions. Additionally, neither is any liability assumed for damages resulting from the use of the information contained herein.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise without the express written permission of the publisher.

  Publisher:

  CCB Publishing

  British Columbia, Canada

  www.ccbpublishing.com

  To Bill and Gregory

  The most beautiful experience we can have is the mysterious. It is the fundamental emotion which stands at the cradle of true art and true science.

  - Albert Einstein

  Prologue

  The Hill of Tara, Ireland

  At dawn, a group in yellow ponchos gathered on the Hill of Tara, each assuming a definite position in a drama which was about to unfold.

  On cue, a woman stepped forward and placed her hand firmly on the Lia Fail standing stone. Looking around to be certain everyone was prepared, she proceeded with a forceful command to an unknown recipient; first in English and then in Irish Gaelic. Nothing happened.

  A second command conjured up a menacing cloud out of a clear sky.

  A third command brought forth lightning bolts from the cloud splitting the paving stones around the standing stone just inches from the woman’s feet.

  A fourth command brought drenching rain which dripped off the yellow raingear forming puddles around the participants’ feet. The group stood motionless absorbing the onslaught. The hill was now engulfed in its own storm while the surrounding region was bathed in morning sunlight.

  A fifth command stopped the rain and ushered in a warm breeze which encircled and dried the participants.

  As the cloud evaporated a large metallic circle of a golden serpent with a cascading centre of flowing energy appeared hovering inches from the ground. Out of the circle stepped several tall individuals who were welcomed by the Hill of Tara participants.

  A prophecy, shrouded in myth and legend, had finally been fulfilled. The Celtic Serpent Gate to another dimension, securely locked away by first century Druids, had reappeared at the command of a twenty-first century woman in possession of an ancient medallion.

  Following a brief greeting, the new arrivals turned to accompany twelve of the Hill of Tara group back through the gate. Once the last ones entered, the gate evaporated. Without comment, the rest of the party retreated down the hill to board waiting buses.

  Watching, a tall ghostly figure, silently reflected on the event, saying to himself, “The ‘coming times’ has finally arrived, now the real work begins. That group of twelve will return in three months. What is three months after so many centuries? Their mission will awaken forgotten memories of the vibrational nature of this world and its connection to the soul of humanity. While we wait, I’ll use the occasion to prepare my students for what lies ahead.” Imergin, a Druid Seer, raised his hand to signal his students to gather at a distant oak tree. He watched as his seven gifted students, of different ages and rank, settled onto a well-worn, semi-circular bench. They were dressed identically except for their coloured sashes with the golden serpent emblem.

  “Master, while we wait for their return, can we again discuss the medallion?” asked a senior student, anxious to understand their role in the evolving prophecy.

  Imergin stood, as was his custom, to talk to his students saying, “Indeed, since our last discussion focused primarily on the time from the attack on our community by the Roman army in the first century and into the centuries thereafter, we shall now broaden our discussion. As you will recall, my sons, humanity goes through repeated cycles of learning and forgetting.”

  “True Master, but surely the technological advancement of this age is a positive sign?” asked an older student, pleased to be a witness to such change.

  “Technology has certainly helped mankind, but in their rush they have lost sight of their true mission. For few know of the Great Year or its meaning,” replied Imergin.

  “But some must intuitively suspect there is more, after all, they are familiar with the cycles of days, months and years?” mused an older student. “Records must exist from ancient times.”

  “Yes, ancient cultures knew of the Great Year; the Egyptians used it to predict events long into the future.”

  “What about written records?” asked another student.

  “There were plenty, information was chiseled onto statues, tombs, and buildings, and written into various types of documents, but, as I now see, many of these messages were destroyed by wars, misunderstood in translation or, relegated to mythology. It is no wonder today’s scientists are frustrated in trying to explain ancient anomalies which keep turning up.”

  “So, how do they explain such anomalies?” asked an inquisitive student.

  “Mankind, when faced with anything that does not comply with their current theories label such discoveries fakes, or dismiss them all together. The tragedy is that when the knowledge of the Great Year is forsaken, along with its cosmic connection, mankind becomes disoriented, lost in time and without hope.”

  “But surely, more intelligent minds would challenge such thinking?” argued an older student unwilling to believe the entire human race could reject such evidence.

  “Perhaps, but those rare individuals keep such unorthodox opinions to themselves,” replied Imergin. “But in fairness to humanity perhaps there is another point to consider. As humanity slipped into the Kali Yuga, the great world cultures disappeared, to be replaced by inferior ones. What humanity currently considers advanced, highly sophisticated ancient societies, are actually inferior examples of the true capabilities of their ancestors. This may be the greatest hurdle. The last time mankind was at an advanced stage of development, was at the time of the last descending Dwapara Yuga, from 3100 BCE to 700 BCE, which is out of the range of most of their historians.”

  “Was that when the medallion was created?” asked another student, anxious to
get back to the medallion.

  “Yes,” replied Imergin, “The medallion is a piece of ancient Dwapara Yuga technology left on earth to survive the centuries for a time when mankind reached a level of enlightenment to comprehend such complexity.”

  “Wasn’t that a bit risky?” came the skeptical reply of another student.

  Imergin turned to look at one of his brightest students saying, “The ancient scientists knew that mankind’s intelligence and consciousness changes as they move through the ages, decreasing in one twelve thousand year arc and ascending in another twelve thousand year arc. When humanity entered the ascending Dwapara Yuga around 1700 CE, there would be an increased number of receptive souls that might understand such technology. Today, as they emerge from three hundred years of transition from one Yuga to another, there are even more individuals.”

  “Master, I wonder if we might get back to the medallion?” asked the persistent student focused on the medallion. “Was the medallion created here in Ireland?”

  Imergin smiled as he turned to respond, “As much as we’d like to claim ownership of this magnificent handiwork, we cannot. It was created in Egypt at the beginning of the descending Kali Yuga, by a group of priests advanced in the Sacred Science.”

  “Who possessed the medallion in Egypt, the Pharaoh?” asked another student.

  “Because the medallion was so dangerous, it had to be controlled by a chosen High Priest, one in possession of a unique genetic makeup,” replied Imergin.

  “How did they determine who possessed such a genetic makeup?” came the immediate question from another student.

  “Royal families, known for their strict marriage laws, kept meticulous records,” was Imergin’s reply.

  Finding this incredulous, another student asked, “You mean every royal family member was a candidate for the medallion?”

  “Not exactly,” replied Imergin, “When strict marriage laws became linked to royalty, all the elite, and those anxious to become the elite, adopted a similar practice. But only a small group, referred to as the ‘Sacred Gentry,’ really counted. They were always known to an inner circle.”

  “What would happen if the wrong person tried to wear the medallion?”

  “The experience would be fatal. At first there would be a burning of the skin beneath the medallion which would be followed by an electrical shock programmed to kill the unqualified wearer.”

  “Then it’s a miracle the medallion survived at all considering the wars and disasters over the centuries. Did the quality of ancient technology also deteriorate as the centuries passed?” asked a quiet student who had been mulling over the information.

  Imergin noted the thoughtful question and replied, “In the early centuries I expect the wearer of the medallion was able to achieve amazing results, for legend has it that the medallion possesses layers of advanced technology. But as the Kali Yuga progressed the skills of the wearer would diminish. Now where was I in the medallion’s journey?”

  “We’re still in Egypt,” piped up a younger student totally absorbed in the story. “What happened next?”

  “Ah yes,” came Imergin’s reply as he turned to the young student. “From Egypt, the medallion was passed on to Moses, and down the centuries through each chosen Israelite High Priest. In 585 BCE, Jeremiah, the prophet, at the time of the fall of Jerusalem to the Babylonians, brought the medallion to Ireland, where it was passed on through chosen Arch-Druids. The centuries passed with the medallion used openly by the Druids up until 60 CE, when the Roman army attacked the Celts in Britain with a directive to eliminate the Druids. At that time the gemstones in the medallion were removed and placed in the protective care of female Druids. For generations the gemstones were reinserted sparingly, because of the danger of such technology falling into the wrong hands. Finally, as I mentioned before, by the 1600s, when the situation in this part of the world grew untenable, the medallion and the gemstones were placed in the care of eight ‘Sacred Gentry’ couples, again mainly in the custody of women. Four of the couples were dispatched to America to wait the ‘coming times,’ which was prophesized to occur hundreds of years into the future. This is the capsulated version of the medallion’s history. Are there any more questions?”

  “But Master, the individual called Angi Talismann, who now wears the medallion, barely knows what to do with it. Without Sirona she might have found herself in serious trouble.”

  “True, but amazingly, she has sufficient genetic inheritance that the medallion did not kill her in the first place, and that alone is a miracle. I’m certain that Sirona and the others, who I know well, will be able to prepare Angi and the others for the challenges that lie ahead. But it will take time. In the meantime, we must wait and prepare for their return.”

  “I’m curious, Master, if we are spirits of a forgotten time, how long will we be permitted to stay on Earth?”

  “A good question, my son,” came Imergin’s response, “Even I do not have the answer to that question. I only know that at specific points in the evolution of humanity certain spirits linger closer, to give guidance. We’ll know when it’s time to leave.”

  As Imergin and his students continued their conversation, the players of a cosmic drama were assuming their places, some still unaware of the responsibilities and dangers which lay ahead.

  * * *

  Chapter 1

  * * *

  House of Learning, Angi’s Suite

  Dreaming, Angi found herself in a pitch black room determined to reach a dimly-lit dais in the distance. Stepping forward, a menacing presence with flaming eyes landed on her chest suffocating her and causing her to fall helplessly backwards into an open pit.

  Bolting upright in bed, her reality stabilized as she recognized her surroundings. With sleep impossible, she threw off the bed cover and reached for the manual clock she had wisely tucked into her travel bag. “Three a.m.……. everyone is asleep ………. I pray that wasn’t a harbinger of what lies ahead. I’m not sure I’d like a rebroadcast. Perhaps some fresh air will clear my head,” she thought to herself.

  In her twenty-sixth year, Angela Talismann, whose friends called her Angi, had her life abruptly changed from an established health career in the western world, to a cosmic traveller. Much to her consternation, she was now in possession of an ancient medallion, possibly advanced technology from an unknown source, which presented not only a danger to her own life but had already attracted ruthless admirers. While stepping into another dimension may have appeared foolhardy, it seemed to present the only option for her to gain control of this magical device.

  Born in New York, Angi had spent most of her life living with her maternal grandmother on Prince Edward Island, Canada’s smallest province situated on the Atlantic coast. This was the world she knew and loved even though her studies had temporarily taken her into an adjacent province. When asked, she always referred to herself as an “Islander,” it never occurred to her to say she was an American. But even these designations were slipping away as she tried to imagine what an entirely different world would mean to her life.

  The coolness of the marble floor was comforting as she walked barefoot towards the balcony. Angi’s graceful, coordinated cat-like strides had been groomed through childhood dancing classes and running competitions. She prided herself at being able to cover great distances faster than others.

  “Why can’t I have pleasant dreams like normal people?” she thought. “Maybe it’s the medallion. I’d hate to think my subconscious is rebelling at my stupidity in stepping into another dimension for which I have no certainty of survival. That, of course, begs the question. What are we doing here? Why did twelve of us step through a gate into an unknown world? Were we all possessed? I could hardly fault someone thinking I must have lost my sanity. Whatever, I’m here now, best make the best of it.”

  Exiting her suite, she felt the tingle of the energy beam. “No doors or windows here. Air flows through these energy beams which block any unwanted guests, and, w
e’ve been told, make adjustments for climate change. Not sure how this works but what an invention. The climate seems Mediterranean. No rain so far. Good thing we brought manual calendars, our electronic devices need recalibration according to Sirona. It’s likely the power source.”

  Angi liked her sparsely furnished spacious suite, especially the balcony with its large plants providing privacy and an intoxicating variety of subtle floral scents. “I’m no botanist, but I’m sure these plants do not exist on Earth,” she thought as she examined the small white blossoms in one pot and clusters of yellow ones in another. Standing near the railing, she admired the reflection of two moons on a distant body of water. “Now that’s a photo.” But a photo would have to wait until their communication devices had been returned. Finding a comfortable bench, Angi sat down.

  Thinking out loud she observed, “You know, except for the dual moons, one larger than the other, this could be anywhere in Italy or Greece. So far, from what we’ve seen, this world seems to have a blending of ancient and advanced architectural structures, a fascinating combination. But then again, we’ve been confined to this hill, a larger community exists in the distance near the water.”

  Turning to more practical issues she went on, “I expect travelers are much alike, their first priorities are the basics. I thought that thin amethyst mattress and pillow would be impossible for sleep, but, except for tonight, I’ve been impressed. The washroom took some adjusting. The shower is like stepping into a forest mist which cleans, dries and oils the skin in a matter of minutes. Vette and I are still trying to figure out how to manage our hair, the men have it easy. I think I’ll ask Sirona if I can try out their clothing while I’m here. Apparently, the fabric sensors adjust to environmental shifts, and the material can be easily cleaned in that device outside the shower. Might as well do some practical research while I’m here.”