Moonlight shone through the crystalline reduction valve and inscribed its insignia upon my forehead. They say it glittered pale silver there for the longest time—longer than for any other person in living memory—before absorbing into my skin. Then the sibyl gave the prophecy. I do not remember that; all I remember are the visions and the bliss. I was now—finally—a knower of the Mysteries.

Every now and and then I redraw the insignia on my forehead to remind myself of what I saw that night. I cleave always to the moon. I can feel the moon in cosmic space even when it’s not visible. I feel it out there as an extension of my body. Every new and unique round of its phases tells me the ongoing story of cosmogenesis. Since the night of my initiation my thoughts glow with moonlight, illuminating my way forward in life.

From the moon we knowers learn the way of viriditas, the greening, growing power of life. With this living knowledge we can develop etheric technologies like the reduction valve, condenser of cosmic influences.

Our village—Asherah—is kept fertile and alive thanks to the massive, airborne web of crystalline reduction valves that we knowers are responsible for raising up and unfurling at sunset. This web is also Asherah. Asherah is the moonlight and the village is Asherah. We wholly depend on the condensed influence that our web Asherah harvests from the moon.

Knowers are entrusted with watching over the web at night from the periphery of the village. On the nights of my shift—once I am sure everyone is asleep—I take my levitator up to the center of the web, the navel of Asherah, and bask there in the moon’s outpouring influence. Intoxicated—I am filled with Wisdom, brimming over with Wisdom—so full I could burst into madness. My forehead burns with bliss as the moon reminds me of deepest mysteries. But I always bring it all back down to Earth and let it inform my walk in life. My kin will never know. My kin are a trusting kind. They do not suspect me.

One night after visiting the navel I touch-down to my lookout on the periphery only to find a fellow knower waiting for me—Agis, her otherwise pensive face looking grave. My heart sinks. I unshell my levitator and she cuts in immediately—

“Our web Asherah has gone silent. You’re needed immediately, we need your power—come with me.” I freeze in response, my heart pounding wildly.

“Is it my fault?” But she doesn’t hear me because my helmet is still on, my mic muted. I pull it off.

“Yes, of c-course,” I stutter as I trip out of my levitator and climb into hers. As we beam back to the center of the village I look up to the moon—full on this night—and seek guidance. All that meets me is silence. How could this be? I try again, but still—nothing. Horrified, I could vomit. My mind is a chaos. I pull my legs into my chest and stare with vacant eyes at the blur of bioluminescing buildings rushing by. What has become of my vision?

We arrive at the steps of the temple to find a crowd of fellow knowers huddling inside. We file in behind them. The circular hall is cacophonous and dimly lit by the violet ether sphere glowing in the center. Shadows dance with the flicker of iridescent robes and cast their play wickedly across the walls. My mind is still a chaos. I feel sick and try to keep my head low as Agis pulls me down the steps toward the ether sphere. Just as we reach it the full moon begins to edge over the oculus and fill the hall with its light. Slowly, the violet light of the ether sphere pales to a luminous white—to moonlight. Agis rips off my hood and swivels me around to face the others, my face fully illumined—like the moon.

“It was him,” says Agis, “He’s been visiting the navel during his shifts.”

“Vulcanus would not do such a thing,” cried the hushed voice of Gerna somewhere in the crowd.

“Oh, but he has,” insists Agis, “I was suspicious and broke code to scry his mind. He has been doing this since his initiation and now our Asherah has gone silent. The welfare of our village is in jeopardy.”

The crowd gapes into silence, swallowing me with condemnation. Just as the moonlight reaches my forehead a voice breaks out of the darkness—

“Look, the insignia!”

I know the insignia by heart and with confused terror feel its shape like a searing wound rising from my skull to the surface of my forehead. I buckle over the ether sphere in agony as the pain mounts and more gasps resound across the hall in sympathy. I look up to find a mighty beam of light stretching from the moon down into the temple oculus, terminating with me and the ether sphere. Pure, unalloyed viriditas—unleashed.

“The prophecy!” yells another voice, “Everyone, bow down—do not leave; everyone must stay here!” The crowd of knowers fold over in submission to the growing light except for Gerna who has come to my aid. My whole body cleaves to the sphere—one mass of warming light getting hotter and hotter and hotter—until suddenly a giant quake rips through the hall, deafening us—deafening me. My body goes numb. I look up to see Gerna’s mouth open as if screaming in pain…

I can’t hear anything but my thoughts.

The entire hall trembles as the growing light blots out all in sight, enveloping all in primordial silence. Before surrendering to the prophecy, I think a prayer for blessed Gerna: “May she be wrapped in viriditas; may Asherah guide her; may she know the way.”

It was then that the moon began its reunion with our Earth.