Anikelam, or a Visit to the Junk Dealer's shop

“That is not enough,” said the Tsar. “The Moon demands greater worship, greater sacrifices from man. From now on, no gods other than the Moon exist. Listen further to the message of God! We are no longer a people of farmers. Why waste time on crops that are ungrateful to our labor? God has told me that from now on the main occupation of the inhabitants of the Sacred Empire must be trade!”

“But to whom, and what, shall we sell?” someone asked from the crowd.

“We shall sell goods to other countries,” answered the Tsar, “and the sun-worshipers produce them in abundance. We shall conquer them. The final message of God that I heard is that we must begin a war against the Land of the Sun! From this day forth we begin preparations for the campaign, on which we shall set out exactly three years from now!”

The Tsar made a majestic gesture with his hand, preparing to withdraw, but after looking intently over the trembling people before him, he added:

“I command that from now on all women of the Empire arrange their hair in coiffures! It is unseemly for the women of our country to walk about with untidy hair!”

And so ended the many-thousand-year peace and happiness of a peaceful farming people. The Tsar’s speech shook the people. They were bewildered. They were accustomed to holding their Tsars in high esteem, considering them incarnations of the gods on earth.

Legends said that at the dawn of civilization, the gods descended from the heavens and lived among people. From the union of gods with the daughters of men were born god-men, who began the existence of the royal dynasty. The inhabitants of the Sacred Empire could not even conceive that their Tsar might be wrong. They were certain that the Tsar had access to the heavenly halls and communed with the gods. True, for many centuries they had heard no new divine revelations from him. And now, apparently, the time had come…

Grakhash was in the square at the moment when the Tsar delivered this speech. From the Tsar’s speech, which was very long, he understood that he was to be among the first ranks of those called to war. After all, he was the Tsar’s warrior.

Chapter 4

The Astrologer’s Prophecy

No one understood what was happening in the Land of the Moon. From the outside, it was impossible to understand why Ekhash, who until recently had been the kindest and most just Tsar in the world, had suddenly made a decision so uncharacteristic of him. Only one person standing in the square on that memorable day knew what had happened. It was the Tsar’s personal astrologer—Zankh.

And so, preparations began for a military campaign against the sun-worshipers. For three years, armor and weapons were forged in workshops and smithies throughout the Empire, and the entire male population of the Empire prepared to set out on campaign. Military drills were held constantly. But more than anything else, the royal government concentrated on propaganda of hatred and violence toward the sun-worshipers.

Meanwhile, the cult of the One God was marching triumphantly across the Sacred Empire. Throughout the country, the temples and altars of the ancient gods were being destroyed: patrons of nature and childbirth, harvests and rains, love and death. In their place, faith was imposed everywhere in a single unknowable deity, incomprehensible to the human mind, hidden behind the veil of space and time.

Although—no, the Moon, of course, was visible to ordinary mortals, but it was so high and so far away, and spoke to people through its priestesses in such a symbolic language, incomprehensible to them, that one could assert its indisputable unfathomability. The simple gods, understandable to man, disappeared. And the hatred that the Tsar so wished to kindle in the hearts of the former farmers gradually began to be born within them.

The minds of the people living in the Sacred Empire ceased to understand the processes taking place in nature. Now, if misfortune came to a person, it meant the wrath of an unknown deity. A person did not know what to do, or to whom to turn with his sorrow.

Before, if a patron god did not answer a person’s prayers for a long time, dislike was born in him only toward that god, along with a desire to diligently atone for his guilt before him. But now, if misfortunes did not leave a person, he began to hate the whole world.

Before, the stern and benevolent, wrathful and merry, warlike and peaceful faces of stone idols promised people either long or swift forgiveness. Now there was an unknown deity which, as the official religion proclaimed, the human mind would never comprehend. People did not see how it wept or laughed, loved or hated. Perhaps it did not know how to do these things at all? Perhaps it did not understand their thoughts, desires, and feelings at all?

People found no answer to these questions. The temples of the Mother-Moon were now opened only during great festivals, and the now-sacred priestesses of the Moon—the conductors of Divine Reason on earth—did not answer the questions of ordinary mortals in any understandable way. The revelations received by the priestesses from the Deity were abstract and vague. People did not understand them.

And people began to hate. In response to the inaction and silence of the unknowable deity, they hated the world created by that deity. Aggression accumulated more and more in human hearts. And the people themselves now longed to begin the war against the sun-worshipers as soon as possible, not understanding that, in truth, they wanted to wage war against themselves, against their own state and religion.

And so, the majority of the population actively joined in the preparations for the campaign. But, of course, there were also people who disagreed with the Tsar’s new policy. Some of them created entire organizations opposing the royal regime.

A year passed, then another, and then yet another. The time of the Great Campaign was approaching. Grakhash, as one of the Tsar’s warriors, also marched diligently every day at the military training grounds. But deep in his soul, he desperately did not want to go on campaign. In general, he had never liked military affairs.

One day, at a military gathering, he accidentally acquired a new friend. It happened like this.

The marching and sword training had already ended. Grakhash was wiping his sword when he heard a quiet whisper beside his ear:

“Hey, you, listen!..”

Turning around, he saw a boy of about fifteen.

“Can I have you for a minute?” the boy asked again in a whisper.

Grakhash nodded.

“I can’t talk here. Let’s move farther away from here,” said the boy.

Grakhash and the boy left the royal barracks, where the military gathering was taking place, and found themselves in a small dark alley that ended in a dead end. Stopping there, they began to speak quietly.

“My name is Efaksh. I belong to an organization that opposes the Tsar and the campaign. We are looking for people who sympathize with us. I watched you during the gathering, and from your face I understood that you are not very pleased with the current situation.”

“Are there many of you?” asked Grakhash.

“Yes, very, very many,” answered the boy. “But we want our ranks to grow. Many people are needed to overthrow the Tsar.”

“Overthrow the Tsar? But that is too serious a step…” Grakhash began, intending to refuse. After all, he had been dedicated to serving the Tsar since childhood. Besides, his natural nobility called upon him to remain faithful to his duty.

“Do not be so quick to refuse, young man,” a voice came from the darkness. “And you, youth, should bear in mind that overthrowing the Tsar will achieve nothing.”

“But why?” Grakhash and Efaksh asked in unison. From surprise, they forgot about confidentiality.

“Because another will take his place. And he will be no better.”

A figure clad in a blue mantle emerged from the darkness. It was a very elderly man whose face was covered all over with wrinkles.

“Who are you?” asked Grakhash, coming to his senses.

“I am Zankh, the Tsar’s personal astrologer. If you want to know more, come with me.”

“But why should we believe you? What if you deceive us and lead us straight into the hands of the Tsar’s guards?” Grakhash asked suspiciously.

“I will not deceive you. I am first on the list of the Tsar’s enemies,” the old man said bitterly.

“Let’s go with him. I believe him,” said the boy. “I have heard that he is a good man.”

Grakhash and Efaksh followed the old man. They passed long rows of barracks, went past the mint, and found themselves before the royal palace. A large group of guards could be seen at the palace entrance.

“Surely we are not going to enter straight through the main entrance?” Grakhash asked with irony.

“Do not be afraid. We shall go another way,” the astrologer replied.

Going around the palace on the right, Grakhash and Efaksh saw a small tower adjoining the palace. High in the tower, a light was burning. They understood that this was the astrologer’s dwelling.

And somewhere high above, the summer stars could be seen scattered across the night sky. The Holy City lay in southern latitudes, and nowhere, ever, was the sky as beautiful as it was here…

Together with the astrologer, the young friends climbed the tower. The ascent was long and even a little difficult. A narrow spiral staircase twisted and wound upward; it was dark all around, and only the light of a lone torch illuminated their way.

At the top, the astrologer indicated to Grakhash and Efaksh that they could make themselves comfortable.

“Our conversation will be long,” he explained.

Grakhash and Efaksh looked around. In the small room where the astrologer lived stood an enormous table, completely covered with thick ancient books. Some of them were open. Coming closer, Grakhash saw some kind of diagrams. On the table he noticed a strange object: two slats formed an angle between them and were joined by a semicircular rail. In answer to Grakhash’s silent question, the astrologer said:

“It is an astrolabe. A device for measuring distances between planets.”

When Grakhash had looked around a little, he immediately decided to begin questioning the old man.

“Why did you bring us here? Why did you say that the Tsar’s death would change nothing?” he began.

“The thing is that I have been watching you for a long time, Grakhash,” said the astrologer. “By the signs on your face and body, I understood that you are the only person who can save us all from Merrog.”

“Merrog? Who is that?” Efaksh asked in surprise.

“He is a demonic being possessing an intellect far surpassing the human mind. Many millennia ago, she was born in the lower worlds. The purpose of her birth is to destroy the harmony that exists on Earth. Three years ago, she appeared to our Tsar for the first time and enslaved his will.”

“Can this really be the reason our Tsar changed so suddenly?” exclaimed Efaksh.

“Yes, that is the reason,” answered the astrologer.

“But how did you learn this?” asked Grakhash.

“I saw signs in the Tsar’s horoscope that indicated it,” answered the astrologer.

“What signs?” asked the curious Efaksh.

“In the Tsar’s horoscope, the Black Moon is in conjunction with the Sun. Ancient astrology associates the Sun with the spirit of man. The Black Moon symbolizes the evil that a person can bring into this world. Through the Black Moon, demonic entities living in the lower astral worlds penetrate into a person and, through him, influence the surrounding world. The conjunction of the Black Moon with the Sun in a horoscope means that the spirit of a person born at that time is afflicted by the spirit of Evil, and through him the forces of Evil will manifest themselves in the embodied world.

“Jupiter—the planet that patronizes rulers—is in conjunction in the Tsar’s horoscope with the star Algol, located in the constellation Perseus. This is the devil’s star; murders and violence are associated with it. A person born under the star Algol strays from the true path; terrible spirits of the abyss act through him… I knew that the Tsar would begin a war…”

The astrologer faltered from agitation, but after a few moments he continued speaking.

“For the End of Times is approaching again, and someone must fulfill what has been ordained…”

“Again?” came Efaksh’s sarcastic voice. “How can the End of Times come ‘again’? Has it already happened before?”

“Yes, it is true, the End of Times is approaching not for the first time…” the astrologer answered anxiously, and began leafing through one of the ancient folios lying on his table.

Efaksh twirled a finger at his temple and winked at Grakhash, nodding toward the door.

Meanwhile, the astrologer continued speaking, peering into the yellowed pages of the book.

“The End of Times comes from time to time…” the astrologer said, breathless with excitement. “The squirrel turns the Wheel, and what was in the past returns again and again… Once, long ago, the Land of the Sun began a war against the Empire of the Moon. Much blood was shed, many flourishing cities were destroyed… Back then, the Spirit of Evil entered their Tsar… Now this must happen again, but the initiator will be the Empire of the Moon… But someone must stop this cycle…”

“How can that be done?” Efaksh asked with feigned interest, having decided that the astrologer was not in his right mind.

“To do this, one must find the answers to the three riddles of the Maiden hidden behind the veil…” the astrologer answered solemnly.

“The Maiden hidden behind the veil?.. Who is that?” the curious Efaksh asked again.

The astrologer smiled mysteriously.

“She is the Maiden whose entire body is hidden behind veils… No one has ever seen even her face. For many millennia she has been waiting for someone to answer her three riddles. Then humanity will have a chance at salvation, and the wars that regularly break out between the Empire of the Moon and the Land of the Sun will finally be able to cease…”

“What are these riddles?” asked Grakhash.

The astrologer smiled again.

“The riddles are these,” he answered, looking slyly at Grakhash. “One must find where the lie is hidden in the Empire of the Moon, and that is the first riddle. Then one must find the lie in the Land of the Sun, and that is the second riddle. The last, third riddle of the Maiden is the most difficult. One must guess what is hidden behind her veils… I think that you, Grakhash, can do this… There is an ancient legend about the Messenger on the White Horse, who will come on the day of the decisive battle and prevent the End of Times… Please tell me the date of your birth so that I may confirm it.”

The astrologer moved closer to Grakhash a worn notebook in which he made his calculations, and the warrior wrote his date of birth in it.

“Rest a little, and I must make some calculations,” Zankh fussed.

For a whole hour, the old astrologer pored over his papers and books, drawing and calculating something. During this time, Grakhash and Efaksh managed to doze off. At last, the old man said:

“It is done. Now I know for certain that you are the very Messenger on the White Horse who will be able to answer the Maiden’s riddles. In your horoscope, O youth, Jupiter is in conjunction with Mars in Sagittarius in the tenth house of the horoscope. The Sun is in conjunction with the star Pollux, located in the constellation Gemini. This is the star of a man who wins all battles. And these battles will unfold on the field of reason… But wait… I see something interesting here… The Moon in your horoscope is too close to the malefic star Giedi. The Moon signifies the mother… The star Giedi speaks of danger from evil spirits. Let me see…”

The astrologer went to the table on which stood a transparent crystal ball and, fixing his eyes on the ball, looked into it for several minutes. All this time, Grakhash and Efaksh exchanged bewildered glances. Suddenly, horror appeared on the old man’s face, tears flowed from his eyes, he swayed and collapsed unconscious onto the floor.

Grakhash and Efaksh rushed to help. They lifted the old man from the floor and seated him on the bed that stood in the corner. For several minutes, the astrologer remained unconscious. At last, he slowly opened his eyes.

“What happened?” Grakhash asked anxiously.

“What did you see in that ball, grandfather?” asked Efaksh.

Barely moving his tongue, the old man began to speak.

“In your horoscope, Grakhash, I saw terrible signs telling me that your mother perished at the hands of the Dark Forces of the earth.”

Grakhash was stunned.

“The Dark Forces of the earth?” he repeated. “I always thought it was a dark sorcerer,” Grakhash said more confidently.

“Be silent and listen further,” said the astrologer. “I decided to clarify whether this was so and looked into the mediumistic ball. There I saw the terrible scene of your mother’s murder. I can say with certainty that your mother was not killed by a sorcerer at all.”

“Not a sorcerer? Then who?” Grakhash asked in surprise.

“It was not a human being at all,” said the astrologer.

“But that is impossible!” exclaimed Grakhash. “I saw the murder happen, and I can swear on anything that it was a man!”

“The being that killed your mother merely took on the appearance of a man,” the astrologer continued seriously. “In truth, it is Shahgarg—one of the demons serving Merrog. It is an entity of the lower world, one of the Supreme Hierarchs of the Dark Forces. It can take the form of a human, an animal, or a bird, and live in different dimensions. On your own, you will never catch him, because he can instantly pass from one dimension to another. But I can help you.”

“You said he serves Merrog?” Grakhash asked again.

“Yes. As you can see, you are personally interested in destroying Merrog,” the old man concluded triumphantly.

“To catch Merrog, one must be able to pass from one dimension to another. For this I shall give you the Amulet of the Moon.”

The astrologer went to an enormous chest standing in the room and took out a small box. When he opened it, Grakhash and Efaksh saw a square metal plate with uneven edges, darkened by time and eaten away by rust. Rows of numbers were stamped on the plate:

“You must always keep this plate with you. Each time you wish to move through space and time, you must recite a prayer to the Moon. It is this: ‘O Isis! Remove the veil from my eyes; allow me to see the light of Anima Mundi…’ After that, simply imagine the world you wish to enter,” said the astrologer.

“But is it possible to imagine a place where one has never been?” asked Efaksh.

“Yes, indeed, it is difficult to imagine what one has never seen,” the astrologer smiled. “But one can imagine not the place itself, but some object or person located within it… Finally, one can simply mention the name of that place, and the Amulet itself will lead you there… But even if you know absolutely nothing about it, fate itself will tell you how to find it, will give you a sign… In general, though, it is usually enough merely to have the Intention…” the old man said, addressing the warrior.

“You know, I even like all of this,” said Efaksh. “How interesting!”

“Excellent. Now listen to me carefully…” said the astrologer, looking seriously at Grakhash. “Remember that only you, and no one but you, can answer the three riddles of the Maiden hidden behind the veils. Set out immediately; you have little time…”

The astrologer turned several pages of the book lying before him.

“According to what has been foretold, the battle between the Empire of the Moon and the Land of the Sun will take place exactly one month from now. On that day, Pluto will be positioned ninety degrees from Uranus, and Saturn will stand at the same distance from the Sun. The Sun itself will be covered by the Moon, and a solar eclipse will begin, worsened by the fact that Uranus will stand in opposition to it…”

“But what if I cannot do it? What if I do not arrive in time?” Grakhash asked anxiously.

“You will succeed. I do not doubt it. But your soul must be pure. Remember this at all times. Ah, I almost forgot!” exclaimed the astrologer, waving his arms in agitation. “This is very important: in order to defeat Merrog and Shahgarg, you will read the book of Anikelam, inscribed upon the tablets of the astral light.”

“The book of Anikelam? What is that?” Grakhash asked in surprise.

“It is a book recorded in the Akashic Records. The Akashic Records, or astral light, as the ancient scholars call it, are the totality of all information gathered about humanity throughout the entire time of its existence. The Akashic Records contain information about all events of the past, present, and future, about every person, animal, or plant. This information is divided into blocks. No one has ever managed to gain access to all of this information at once—only to certain individual blocks. Poets, musicians, and alchemists—everyone who discovers or creates anything—draw information from the Akashic Records. Gaining access to the Akashic Records is very difficult. God grants this ability to some from birth, and then geniuses appear, making brilliant discoveries. But in order to gain access to the most secret blocks, one must undergo a special rite of initiation,” said the astrologer.

“What rite? How can I undergo it?” Grakhash asked impatiently.

“It is an ancient secret rite. In order to undergo it, you must go to the monastery of Num. The Bloody Mysteries are held there. But it will be very difficult,” said the astrologer.

“How interesting!” exclaimed the curious Efaksh.

“The book of Anikelam is one of the most secret blocks of the Akashic Records, alongside the blocks concerning the mysteries of the creation of man and the universe,” the old man continued.

“But why?” asked Grakhash.

“The book of Anikelam contains sacred information about the stars and planets of our Solar System, as well as about magical rites that make a person strong and invincible.”

“I will definitely gain access to the book of Anikelam,” Grakhash said firmly.

“I see a true warrior in you, O youth!” exclaimed the astrologer, rejoicing that he had managed to convince Grakhash of the need to follow his mission.

“But listen, venerable elder, I have a question for you,” said Grakhash.

“What question?” asked the astrologer.

“Soon after my mother died, I spoke with her,” said Grakhash.

“Spoke with her?” the old man asked excitedly. “And what did she tell you?”

“She gave me a strange testament,” Grakhash said after a pause. “She said: ‘Be careful, Grakhash, do not lose your way in the worlds of reflections.’ What does that mean?” he asked the astrologer.

“Oh yes, the worlds of reflections…” the astrologer said thoughtfully. “To learn what they are is part of your mission… Without answering that question, you will not be able to answer the three riddles of the Maiden hidden behind the veils…”

“So, we are setting out on a journey!” exclaimed Efaksh.

“And will you not come with us?” asked Grakhash.

“No…” the astrologer said sadly, and his eyes grew misty.

“Why? You know much about magic and astrology, and you could give us invaluable help,” the warrior noted.

“Unfortunately, my duty commands me to remain near the Tsar.”

“When will we see each other again? When we return from the campaign?” asked Efaksh, who in a short time had grown deeply fond of the absent-minded old astrologer.

“I fear that in this physical world we shall never see each other again,” the old man said with pain in his voice. “In the astral world—perhaps…”

“But why?” Grakhash and Efaksh were bewildered.

“I am an astrologer. I know everything about the past, present, and future,” said Zankh. “I calculated from the stars long ago that the Tsar will kill me. It will happen very soon.”

“But why not hide from him for a while?” Efaksh suggested.

“Only people who do not know the laws of the Universe speak as you do. Everything we do, everything we think and dream about, is predetermined from birth. Only madmen believe that they can change anything in their lives. But I know for certain that this is not so…”

“Wait, I disagree with you!” exclaimed Efaksh, wishing to argue with the astrologer. He had always believed that everything depended on his own efforts.