On the other hand the senior adepts regarded the knowledge as affording a controlled embarkation to the highest level of existence. They approached it as if they were spiritually rich enough for it at last. “With this, we overcome the holds of Earthlife.” they said, with that ‘humble’ loftiness Hamar despised, explaining to him that they were moving upwards through layers of more and more excellent orders of vibration until they ultimately rose beyond the very vibration of the world itself. They wore robes whose colour supposedly matched the energy vibration of their aura, and as they tried to get loftier and loftier in their inner life they were particular about their hue. “Death will come when we reach pure clear light of awareness at last, – not as exalted, perhaps, as the Master’s high level, but almost.” One of their annoying trains of thought was that death was an illusion, that it marked a bodily rebellion that had to be corrected by higher mentation. Lowly humility was regarded as the height, and nothing but the highest height would do for them!
“Spiritual snobs,” he thought, “wanting to get too high to ever be low any more!” They still lost their temper if he deliberately ate too many of their precious rose-water sweets when visiting them.
The problem point being, for Hamar, that whether the learners attempted to go through death themselves in their training, or helped to ‘free’ their victims to go on to a higher life, there was always this rule of something, or someone, having to die first. And because of the differing claims in all the schools about what was going on in dying, not one of them could be trusted to have the truth about it. While it was just a matter of which cult you favoured it posed no threat, but not when it came down to being personally incinerated, suffocated, drowned!
By this time in his schooling Hamar had been worked on sufficiently in his classes to find killing at least acceptable, nothing to be backed away from. Gaelic shamans, Muti witches, always used blood or body parts, some human, though fortunately for the students, acquired outside the academy, (he grimly hoped; once there had been two familiar moles on some dried skin). But because of what imminently lay ahead he stayed attentive. The majic lords mellowed the idea of killing so that it was seen as something bestowing benefits, routine acts they themselves were well versed in handling, their nonchalance a small comfort for him, – and taking him to another level of having to accept trust in evil.
He was taught a different value for killing, that of it providing its supreme commodity to use, blood, which carried animate life that would empower whatever it was smeared on, or whoever imbibed it, providing the life power for overcoming death. Even the Higher Light adepts would need to first enter into death-dealing to supposedly understand the stages they’d go through and the powers involved in ‘being liberated from Earth’. There was no escaping the seriousness of these lessons, it was what he’d been groomed for, and whatever else he thought, to balk at entering into the rituals could be deadly for him. Now, new fears boxed him in tighter with each new ‘freedom from ignorance’ he gained.
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