Merlin's Veto: Chronicles of the New Merlin

By A. Pauly Jr.

Eleven-year-old Christine Goldsmith wakes from a prophetic nightmare where she witnessed her mother and father hurtle to their deaths in a plane crash. The dream was all too true in reality. After her parents death, Walter Goldsmith, Christines great uncle, a high priest and wizard of the House of Avalon, and Claudia, his niece, also a high priestess, arrive in Saint Paul, Minnesota, to take charge of the orphaned Christine and her troubled fourteen-year-old brother, Marcus.

Christine and Marcus are oddly gifted children. Her father, having renounced his ancient priestly heritage, had wanted to live a normal life, free from the Old Ways of his ancestors. But the childrens heritage will not stay hidden. As soon as the children arrive at the Goldsmith families manor in Pennsylvania, all sorts of difficulties arise. Exposed to dark magic-infused grimoires, Marcus is consumed by a lust for power and hatred for his sister. His gifts turn to evil.

Over the next year, ancient wizardry and secret mystery school lessons deeply affect Christine. Navigating the complexities of her new life as a young teenager, Christine crosses a gateway into this ancient mystic world, filled with tragedy, anguish, betrayal, and self-discovery, healing her wounded spirit in the process. She is initiated and trained to be a high priestess and leader of her people by finding the empowerment and light within herself to fend off her brothers distorted magical ambitions.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Balboa Press
• Release date: Mar 31, 2016
• ISBN: 9781504353410

A. Pauly Jr.

Anthony is a modern day shaman who draws universal wisdom teachings from all world traditions, in particular Native American spiritual philosophies Anthony grew up in the small town of Menomonee Falls Wisconsin where he first encountered the spiritual traditions of the Native American Menomonee Tribe. This introduction awakened within him a soul recognition that he had spent many lives among the native tribes of North and South America. In his mid-twenties he began a nomadic life and traveled to other states to find a greater sense of his relationship with Turtle Island, (North America). He found a connection to his spirit family in each region he explored, including Florida, Arizona, Washington, and Vermont. He is a healer, beekeeper, poet, writer, dreamer and international teacher. Anthony regularly teaches group workshops and seminars that are rooted in indigenous wisdom. His vision is to incorporate the ancient teachings of our ancestors into our modern world to awaken greater awareness and compassion so that our human brothers and sisters can move toward greater healing and liberation from illusion and suffering. He is the author of the Chronicles of the New Merlin series, (of which this is the first volume of many to come), and of the Shaman’s Touch Blog. Stay in touch, join the Shaman’s Touch email list for updates on future events and publications. If you are interested in setting up a private, or group phone session, or an in person session, you may contact Anthony through his website. You may also purchase additional personally signed copies of this or any of his future novels and books directly through his website. www.theshamanstouch.com

Book preview

1

In a remote glen in northern Brittany, a man olden in years sat on an ancient power stone. The darkness pressed in around him. He was centered solidly within his body, calm of heart and soul. Truly he was blissful as his long life had been lived with integrity, vision and meaning. Knowing the measure of his self-worth, he was humble and grateful for the gifts life had given him.

He let the Earth Mother and the Spirits of the Darkness dream with him. He was old, very old. His life had spanned such a great amount of time. Few people could truly comprehend all that he had seen. Only his oldest students and the priests and priestesses of his Order could come close to his understanding of reality. For them, and with them, he shared his knowledge of the working of the Divine Spirit’s flow in the world and within the people. He was very skilled in the arts of mysticism and healing, but he was also a warrior and protector of his people and all living beings. His life was dedicated to the liberation of all beings so they could realize their innate origin and connection to the sacred divinity that flowed within all corners of the universe.

His approach was lovingly open-hearted, yet with great forethought and discernment. It had been many long years since he himself had been initiated, along with his spiritual brothers and sisters, into their Secret Society. As he grew and matured he would inevitably become responsible for the training and induction of many acolytes from those long-forgotten generations.

As so many of his predecessors had, he took on the title and role of a Merlin. There were usually several Merlins alive at any time. Now, after such a great span of time had passed, only two other adepts from his generation remained. One was his sister, Bridget, and the other, a traveler that became known as Warren.

So the Merlin sat, contemplating the closeness he shared with Bridget and her deep, piercing vision. After well over 200 years, he was still amazed at her ability to see into the deepest essence of a situation. She could not access all of Spirit’s mysteries, but her prophecy was unparalleled in its precision. Like him, she had learned the secrets of how to extend a life, far past its normal age. As an art of its own, it was a mystical dance between impeccability, time, space, dreaming, and substance.

In his dreaming, he could see Bridget’s face clearly in his mind’s eye. He knew that she could sense his dreaming of her. Heart Love passed between them across the distance of space, and they both smiled as they went about their separate endeavors. As he contemplated the coming end of his own life, his mind wandered to his long friendship with Warren.

The Merlin remembered how, at the age of 127, the young traveler leading his white horse, boldly walked trance-like into the temple’s settlement. The young man had power emanating all around him, like fields of light and sparks. Enhancing his mystique, the man also carried a sword. Immediately upon his arrival, the Elders of the Order perceived that he had followed an internal vision to find his way to the settlement. He could not have found them otherwise. Because of the mist of illusion that surrounded the temple, only one permitted by the ancestral spirits would find their way there.

Warren’s first encounter with the community was tense for everyone. His sudden arrival put everyone on edge. It didn’t help that he spoke not a word of the people’s tongue. Yet in spite of his vastly different appearance and language, they could see that he showed great dignity and courage. He was fearless when challenged by the temples’ warriors. Warren had lived the life of a warrior. He had been fighting and negotiating his way from distant lands and eventually was led across the sea to this sacred land, all while following his vision. Warren was born on the harsh windswept easternmost stepped lands of his wild Mongolian tribesmen, his appearance was unlike anything the Merlin’s Celtic people had ever seen.

It took awhile, but once the difficulties of communication and culture were bridged, Warren became a much-loved protector of the community. As a result, the Merlin felt a mutual bond of brotherhood with Warren.

Seeing the gifts the dark-skinned man possessed, the Elders realized that if he were to stay among the people of the temple, he would need to be initiated into the mysteries. The Elders entrusted Warren to the Merlin for direct training so Warren would be ready for the coming Solstice Initiation.

Warren eventually realized that his apprenticeship to a Merlin was a very unique opportunity. Because of his position and rank, the Elder Merlin was responsible for deciding the fitness of all the prospective male initiates.

In the darkened forest, the Merlin sat on his power stone, gaining mystical assistance from the energies stored there by previous Merlins and Elders. Delving deeply into his own memories for insights, he began reminiscing on pleasant memories. He didn’t initially anticipate that this stranger with blood on his hands would engender such respect but, the old Merlin grew to love his student very much. During the training, he learned as much from the young man as the young man learned from him.

Many years had passed since that first encounter. Now over two hundred cycles of the seasons had passed since his birth, and the old patriarch was now the oldest Merlin alive. This night he must once more help to select the new generation of apprentices for his Order. However, this particular evening he felt a stronger urgency than he had felt in a long time. This would be his last Solstice ritual. He sensed that his companion Time, and his ally Death, The Transformer, were near. Still relaxed and without fear, he silently said, Hello to these forces he had come to know so intimately. He no longer feared them.

Turning his vision still deeper inward, the Merlin looked long into the great mystery within himself. Working to expand the reach of his awareness, he took note of what he perceived around him and pulled in every nuance. This summer Solstice evening was warm and heavy with the weight of humidity in the air. The stars could be seen over the hills and lands of Brittany. With a razor sharp clarity, he could See with his spiritual vision the living things that moved about in the darkness of this wild land. The scent of plants and herbs emanated into the air, and the heady vitality they possessed could be felt. The smell of the moist earth carried itself to his nose. Breathing deeply into his whole body he let it fill him. Although he was very old and the body was tired, he was more alive than ever before.

He sensed that this land was ancient and alive with a great, pulsating life-force. If he listened closely enough, he could almost hear the heartbeat of the Earth Mother Goddess. She was joyfully giving her blessings and prayers to this land, this sacred place on her vast body. He was Seeing her as she watched over her children as they went about walking, flying, crawling and slithering on her lands and in her waters. He could see the joy she took in their dances. Sensing her joy pleased him.

The Great Mother was singing a song to her children through their dreams. In that ballad, she urged them on to grow and multiply, to live and die, to grow and change. The cycles of life moved ever forward, creating a living crystalline fluidity that was always transforming into new vistas.

A tear of joy formed in the Old Merlin’s left eye. Gaining mass it moved to where it hung on the precipice of his lower eyelid. He could feel the salt burn the sensitive pores on his skin. Its weight and momentum merged with gravity’s force, pulling it down his cheek. Its journey inevitably carried it through the hairs of his white beard. With the skill and intent of a great master, he moved his awareness from his third eye and heart space, into the tear itself so that he could explore the world within it.

He entered the tear as if it was a temple, and noticed light from the stars reflecting within. The liquid reflections of light moved like fluid magical codes waiting to be unlocked. One beam of light reflected off a portion of the teardrop, grabbing his attention and pulling him into a vortex of swirling, silky energy. The vortex revolved around him for some time. Then out of its currents came particles and a semi-transparent substance that began to deposit within the space of his perception. In the next moment, suddenly and without warning, he found himself standing in a structure unlike anything he had seen before.

Words and information flowed into his perception from a place of Direct Knowing. It was a place beyond his mind, a place where the highest aspects of his spirit resided. Looking with Spirit Eyes, he could see that he was in a large wood and stone house. He could sense the duration and years of time that he had traveled through to get here.

He understood instinctively that this house was part of a time sixty-four generations in the future. Standing there in his vision, the moment itself began to speak understandings to him. The strange objects in the house began to reveal their purpose, and how they were used as tools. He would have marveled at these understandings, but he knew that if he reacted with thought or emotion, the tenuous nature of this perception would be disrupted and the vision would be lost to him.

The house was filled with ornate, antique furnishings made of dark, stained woods. Old volumes of books filled every available shelf. Crystal vases and brass clocks decorated the tables and mantles. Several pieces of Asian pottery were placed strategically throughout the room. He felt the power and energetic strategy of Geomancy in the placement of each object. It was an art he knew well, he had learned it when studying the placement of stones for ritual spaces. This was the science of how to arrange temples and altars for specific energetic and consciousness-expanding results.

Quality silks of remarkable craftsmanship hung from the multi-paned windows, out of which carefully-tended, English-style rose gardens could be seen. The colors outside the windows were inviting and full of life, the light still reflecting from the dew on the petals of the roses and leaves. Even though it was late fall, the sun streamed through the windows, warming the space. He knew that every object had been carefully chosen and placed for a reason, every object had a purpose. Personal intention filled the room with great power. This was the home of a Master Wizard, and definitely not the land of his fathers and mothers. He could feel the distance one would travel to reach it. He was sure this land lay across the great ocean to the west.

Stretching his awareness out, touching the threads of light forming the fabric of this place and time, he sensed that this home belonged to a man of the Merlin’s Order. This man had been trained in the Old Ways, yet he also noticed an influence that was decidedly different. He felt the distinct flavor of other traditions and knew that this adept was drawing knowledge from several other distinct lineages of wisdom teachings. Never before had The Merlin encountered the convergence of so many lineages in one Master.

When he was a child, his Elders had told him vague stories about the People’s true history and how all peoples where once part of a nation known as Atlantis. The history had been told and retold for countless generations. As he grew, the narratives told about that ancient time acquired extensively greater detail. Although they had been literal transmissions, he was very young and he did not fully understand the scope of the accounts, nor the truths they contained.

He was taught that tens of thousands of years ago, the ancient nation began to break apart as a result of earthquakes caused by a combination of natural and sorceristic activities. The sorcery not only tore apart the Earth but also the Atlantian society. Each faction began to distrust the others.

As they journeyed to various undeveloped locations around the world, they carried with them the various strands of knowledge. It was said that this was done to protect the Old Ways from being over-centralized and, therefore, less vulnerable to further corruption and loss. It was from these sojourners’ travels to wild lands, populated by wild peoples, that all of the known civilizations were born.

The Prophets began to foretell of a time when the different lineages would re-emerge from isolation and obscurity to unify and save humanity. They predicted that this would be a time of great darkness, and also a time of illuminating magical transformation.

2

Looking into this room through the lens of his own time and space, a question as if being voiced by someone else: suddenly materialized in his own mind, What am I here to see?

At the moment the thought was voiced, the sound of a key turning in a lock echoed inside the room. A second later, the bronze door handle of a large, dark, wooden door at the front of the manor turned. A cool gust of fall air blew into the room, bearing a few dry leaves. An older man in his mid-seventies walked in. He wore a heavy, brown, scratchy wool coat that buttoned down the front. The oval patches on the elbows were slightly darker than the rest of the coat. He wore finely ironed pants of brown cotton that were of a similar hue to that of the coat, yet less worn. His greying hair was cut short, being parted on the left, and his face was square with a strong jaw. Behind his glasses his eyes were sharp and piercing. He was definitely the man of power who ruled this wizard’s house. Reading the wizard’s aura, the Merlin could see that he was radiating with a power that surrounded him. He was clearly very well trained.

Feeling the foreign manifestation of a powerful male-like presence in the room, the wizard immediately stopped in his tracks. His whole body shivered with anticipation. The hackles on the back of his neck stood up. With the force of his will, the man expanded his senses and intuition and knew that this was neither a power he left there, nor a power he had invoked. Hearing the man’s thoughts, the Merlin looked on as the wizard deliberated on the unknown presence.

There was a moment of hesitation in the wizard’s movements, as if he was almost fearful. Realizing the volatility and vulnerability of his emotions, he chose to calm himself. He then stepped forward and voiced a greeting to the being of power he felt in his home.

Telepathically, the man said to the unseen spirit, Blessed be my brother who has come to visit and teach me. My name in this world is Walter Goldsmith; I am a High Priest of the Lineage and House of Avalon. You have entered my home and are my guest. Tell me what are you called? What is your reason for being here?

In just a moment’s flicker of compressed time, a swift communication across time and space occurred between the two wizards.

According to the laws of the Order, when a person of power asks a spirit to reveal its identity, it must comply, so the Merlin responded willingly telepathically. "Greetings to you my son, I am the eldest of the Merlins from my time. My name is Thule of the Long Waters. For you, sixty-four generations will have passed since my last living days. I have spirit traveled to your time to witness the moments to come. There is a Great Mystery unfolding. I am here to find a prophecy, for this will be written as it happens. I see through my vision that you must stand aside and let events unfold as they must. I implore you for the greatest good, do not allow your own agenda to stand in the way. Your heart will break in the coming days and years. But as your guardian, I wish to impress upon you that you must trust the flow of Creation’s will.

I cannot remain in this vision much longer. However, I am sending to you through the length of time, the knowledge you will need. Watch the signs to come. I can see with my spirit eyes that you have already read the very words that will be written by my hand in these last days of my final lifetime.

Be strong, Walter Goldsmith, for the quickening is upon you. Remember that your ancestors will always be with you, my son. Hold to your faith. Blessed be my son. You have done well by the Order of the Merlins and the House of Avalon."

Having communicated what was needed, the Merlin became silent once again, returning to his original role of witness, observing the unfolding events.

Profoundly shaken by the encounter, Walter was released from the enveloping experience of the transmission. He was working to reorient himself to the reality of his surroundings and ground himself. Walter knew immediately who the Merlin Thule was. Racing though the volumes of information he had consumed during his life, he was searching for the memories that would make this moment comprehensible.

He recalled that over the course of his youth, he had read many of the writings and prophecies written by and about Merlin Thule of the Long Waters, and had been deeply intrigued by them. The writings pulled at his spirit in a way he could not then understand. There was something compelling about them, but he was unable to discover their significance. His elders refrained from answering further inquiries back then.

Walter quickly realized that the moment he was now living had indeed been described about sixty-four generations ago. Grasping the full meaning he realized he had been reading about his own destiny in those texts, a future he had yet to live. The weight and responsibility of this awareness made him shiver. He felt a bit faint. Again he steadied himself and calmed his emotions.

Knowing that his niece and the two children were just outside the door, he took several deep breaths and, clearing his mind, composed himself. He shook his arms and hands about in the air to release the electric energy coursing through his veins. He didn’t want to let on about what he had just experienced to the perceptive newcomers that were just about to walk into the room.

Walking back to the entrance, he poked his head out the doorway. He could see a teenage boy and a younger girl standing by the SUV in the driveway with their aunt. Unloading suitcases and talking among each other, the two youngsters were just arriving at the Manor for the first time. Seeing a bit of tension in the group, Walter stepped over the threshold and called to his niece.

Claudia, what is it you need? What’s taking you so long? Bring the children inside so they can see their new home.

Casting an irritated look at the boy, Claudia, a lovely red-haired woman of forty-two, yelled back from across the parking lot, Yes… Yes… Uncle Walter, we’re coming. Be patient!

In front, Claudia ushered the two young teenagers, both of them carrying bags and pulling wheeled airline luggage. The first to walk toward the door was an attractive girl of about eleven with slightly curly, long, sandy blonde hair. She was thin, tiny and deceptively fragile-looking, with a very kind and sensitive face.

The boy walked toward the house belligerently. He was about four years older than his sister. His sloppy and not recently cut hair was slightly blonde with a strong touch of red. He bore a heavy, brooding look in his eyes. Moving aggressively, he brushed past his sister, pushing her into the doorjamb where she was cut by the brass latch plate that had become worn and sharp.

The Merlin, still in his spirit form watched the events unfold. The young man displayed an angry and bitter demeanor compared to his sister. He was very troubled and had a dark cloud around him that did not bode well. The boy’s dark tormented spirit seemed familiar to him. The Merlin had seen this soul before. He knew he would have to look deeper into this matter at a later time.

Re-focusing his attention from the boy to the girl, he could see that she had a wise and compassionate heart. Yet it was filled with sadness and pain, an ache that could only have been caused by the loss of a loved one. As with the boy, the Merlin also felt as if he knew her soul from some yet unseen time in the past. Observing them closely, he knew they were both exceptionally brilliant of mind and talent for their ages. Through their eyes, he could also see the winding trail of fate and destiny they had shared and would walk together.

Deeply troubled by what he saw, the Merlin chose to distance himself from the scene. As he cast his gaze up to the top of the wall behind the family, a phantom-like image of a man’s face was forming. The image was pulling the Merlin back into an awareness of his own time. The two locations began to blend together as if overlapping in the same time and place. The phantom face coalesced into a body that was standing by some bushes just past the family. The Merlin, was beginning to see that it was Warren’s face looking at him. Warren as he was trained to do… had joined his teacher, the Merlin Thule in his dreaming.

Thule heard Warren’s thoughts reverently ask, Master Merlin, where are you hiding? The initiation ritual will be starting very soon. The stars and planets are almost aligned. Let down your shields and I will come to you and help you to the proceedings.

Responding in thoughts to his friend, Yes, Warren, my brother, I am aware that it is nearly time. However, for the moment, join me more presently in the vision I share with you.

Warren did as he was instructed and willed his awareness deeper into Thule’s dreaming. Both wizards could see each other as they looked in on the proceedings. His master condensed the information he had gathered into a complete thought form and transmitted it to Warren. Now Warren had a full understanding of the events that would unfold in a future time.

Good, Warren, now that you See, it is time for us to leave this dreaming. You may come get me, I am in my favorite spot. Bring my mare, for I am too tired to walk so far in this damp air. I tell you my brother, take note of this vision and all I have shared with you. In time you will be responsible for guiding this family’s journey of enlightenment. You must find and train the wizard who will be protector of this girl child.

"Yes, Master, I will not forget. You have my word." Warren devoutly pledged.

With the communication over, the Merlin quietly waited in the glen for his apprentice. The Old One could hear the sounds of hooves on the earth in the forest. He also felt the vibrations of two mares walking together with a rider on the forward mare. The three carefully guided their way through the woodland. In the darkness, Warren led the mares down the almost-invisible trail.

Entering into the outside edge of the sacred grove from the east, Warren pulled the reins, stopping the mares. Dismounting without a sound, he landed on the ground. He looked into the eyes of the two mares, sending them a feeling of gratitude and he let them know they were to stay and