The Secrets of Magic and Metaphysics: Book One of the Chronicles of El Miron

Copyright © 2012 by Lynette J. Asmar

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

Balboa Press books may be ordered through booksellers or by contacting:

Balboa Press

A Division of Hay House

1663 Liberty Drive

Bloomington, IN 47403

www.balboapress.com.au

1-(877) 407-4847

ISBN: 978-1-4525-0362-2 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4525-0363-9 (e)

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

The author of this book does not dispense medical advice or prescribe the use of any technique as a form of treatment for physical, emotional, or medical problems without the advice of a physician, either directly or indirectly. The intent of the author is only to offer information of a general nature to help you in your quest for emotional and spiritual well-being. In the event you use any of the information in this book for yourself, which is your constitutional right, the author and the publisher assume no responsibility for your actions.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Printed in the United States of America

Balboa Press rev. date: 02/10/2012

For Michel (Mitch)

Loving partner and traveller through the Earth plane for a short time.

For all things past

and for those yet to occur

in the future.

There are certain principles governing the lower personal self, dealing with the actions of that lower self . . . .

The first set of principles is learnt by the man through grasping, and the subsequent disaster that results from that seizure. He stole, he suffered the penalty and he stole no more. The principle was wrought into him by pain and he learnt that only that, which was his by right and not by seizure, could be enjoyed.

Alice Bailey: A Treatise on White magic

Contents

PREFACE   

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS   

LIST OF CHARACTERS  

1   

2   

3   

4   

5   

6   

7   

8   

9   

10   

11   

12   

13   

14   

15   

16   

17   

18   

19   

20   

21   

22   

EPILOGUE 

AN UNUSUAL DISCOVERY  

ABOUT THE AUTHOR  

Partial information only regarding certain exercises has been given as a precaution. A workbook and study guide will be published in the future for genuine seekers of knowledge and truth.

PREFACE

Even though this book bears my name as the author, the credit is due entirely to those awe-inspiring beings who first appeared to me in dreams, giving me such wonderful lucidity that I could hardly distinguish between what was real and what was not.

As I developed and grew spiritually, the visionary experiences began happening through the meditative process, and I merely watched and made copious notes of what was shown. So in a way, I am the amanuensis who compiled the notes into a comprehensible whole, but this is, by no means, the end of the story. To relate everything would take myriad volumes. I do hope to release more of what occurred at a later date.

As the thought of making this information available to others started about twenty years ago, I began sorting the notes into some sort of order, to make the information suitable for general consideration, but I realised later that the information would be made more appealing if it were disguised in the form of a novel. Even in this form, I am sure that others who have had similar experiences will gain greater understanding of why we incarnate on the earth plane, the blessings and pitfalls along the way, and how to use some of the abilities that lie latent within each one of us.

It is usually times of crisis that are instrumental in triggering a response from deep within the self to bring certain faculties forward for consideration and further development. I found that periods of crisis and stress in my life, although unpleasant at the time, were the periods of most intense development. So do not wish away the negative happenings in your own life; instead, consider what hidden lesson and subsequent talent might be there just awaiting your discovery.

A lot of people do not believe in magic, considering it to be something connected with the dark arts. It is not. It has been on the planet since its inception. Even the three wise men who visited the Christ child were called Magi. The word magic comes from this term. There is really no difference between magic, metaphysics, mysticism, occultism or any of the various names the working of the sacred energy is given. It depends on the area of focus as to the name applied to this or that branch of the mysteries. If you want to reach the truth, you have to proceed through the same energies, although you may have different experiences than others, because that depends entirely on your level of development and spiritual maturity.

I have drawn on my many experiences, visions, notes, and metaphysical studies over the last forty years to create this novel, and even though it may read like a fairy tale to some, the truth is, even fairy tales are allegories containing some of the deepest wisdom in story form.

Some of the lessons contained in this book will be elaborated in a future study guide for those earnest seekers of wisdom and truth.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

My deepest appreciation goes to those beings of Light connected with the White Lodge on this planet and the Blue Lodge on Sirius, who gave me the ideas behind this book, who inspired me to continue writing when I felt like giving up, and who gave me the space and time to live a somewhat normal life in between, that allowed me the experiences and visions so I could write about the dark brothers. For those who do not believe the dark brotherhood exists—it does.

I have dramatised certain aspects for the sake of pointing out various learning experiences available to those who wish to tread the Pathway back to the Source. The seemingly negative experiences are portrayed to show the imbalance in the energies and how they are to be addressed to restore the balance before the quest can continue.

Even though this book is written as a fictional novel, it is based on metaphysical fact and shows the many blessings and pitfalls as the journey proceeds to its conclusion.

A special thanks to Alison for reading the manuscript and giving me good, honest feedback, as well as assisting me with the edit.

My deep gratitude to all my students who allowed me to walk with them and guide them as they travelled their own metaphysical journey. Some of their experiences have become a part of this book.

LIST OF CHARACTERS

Stanley Denton, Magician’s apprentice

Dr. Charles Mitchener, The Magician

El Miron, Mitchener’s spiritual name

Susan Radcliff, Dr. Mitchener’s assistant

Catherine Peterson, Stanley’s girlfriend

John Korner, Magician’s apprentice

David Cranston, Dark Arts practitioner

Brian Westmore, Ex-student of Dr. Mitchener

John Ridley, School friend of Brian Westmore

White Robed One, Overseer of one of the many realms of the astral plane

Amouki, An Earth Zone Intelligence

Brother Exeter, Master of a Secret Society

Baron Ashmore, Brother Exeter’s real name

Mustapha, A King of the Gnomes

Marla, Exeter’s servant

The Prince of Darkness, Controller of Exeter’s Secret Society

Jeeves, The Baron’s butler

Maria, The Baron’s housekeeper

Claire Peterson, Catherine’s mother

Michael Peterson, Catherine’s father

Tony Armitage, Catherine’s first love

Orova, A King of the Gnomes

Glemin, A gnome

Alumino, A King of the Gnomes

Palchi, A gnome

Astopho, A King of the Fiery Element

Minolek, Catherine’s mentor

Sir John Fairweather, Brian’s grandfather

1   

The Magician’s Apprentice

I sat out in the car park and stared at the rain as it started to pelt against the windscreen of my car. I absently watched the shoppers scurrying for cover as I tried to let my mind drift aimlessly, but my thoughts kept returning to Mitchener’s phone call.

Come over at eight tonight, Stanley. I’ve cracked the code at last, he’d said. Those old manuscripts finally gave up their secrets, and now I’ve got the evidence I need to proceed with those experiments.

Cracked the code? What did he mean by that? Mitchener was working on various projects and always had his head dipped into some old manuscript, but I don’t remember him telling me about any secret code. And how was I going to explain this to Catherine? She thought I spent far too much time in Mitchener’s lab as it was. After what seemed like eons, the rain eased to a light drizzle. I sighed as I stepped out of the car and made my way through the crowd to the florist. I hoped a bunch of red roses would do the trick.

The drive back through town was slow, and I was starting to show my impatience at being held up two streets away from my destination, when the traffic started to crawl forward again. As I turned onto Catherine’s street, I started to calm down a little, only to be jolted into feelings of exasperation once more as I realised there were no handy parking spaces.

After finally squeezing into a space that wasn’t too far away, I stepped out into light, misty rain. The fading light made everything look like I’d stepped into some sort of fairy glen as the tree-lined street faded off into greyness, and the passing car headlights splashed highlights of silvery white onto the wet road, adding to the eerie effect.

As I lightly ran up the steps of Catherine’s cottage, the door slowly opened, and she stood there facing me, hands on hips. Her eyes fell upon the bunch of flowers I held, then back to the apologetic look on my face, and she smiled sweetly, masking her underlying emotions. Why the roses, Stanley? Off to the lab again?

I’m truly sorry, Catherine. Mitchener said it was urgent and I—

I was cut off midsentence as the door slammed in my face. The shock of it threw me back a pace, and I had to grab hold of the rail to keep my balance. Whoa, she had never reacted like that before, but I really couldn’t blame her for being angry. These days she rarely got to see me, and when we did arrange to catch up, I usually ended up cancelling out because of my work.

I stood there looking at the door, not quite knowing what to do. I took a deep breath and tried to curb my annoyance. What a fool I’d been! Catherine was a dear friend, and I hadn’t been fair or honest with her. I looked at the door as if seeing it for the first time. Funny, it seemed like there was something different about it, but I couldn’t figure out exactly what. I knew the cottage had belonged to Catherine’s parents, and that it was the place where she had grown up.

I really didn’t know what to do, so I continued closely inspecting the door for a moment, wondering whether I should knock or give her a few minutes to calm down. Just as I was about to knock, the door opened unexpectedly, almost throwing me off balance again, and she stood there with a look of resignation on her lovely face.

The roses are beautiful, Stanley, she said as she reached out for them. Let me put them in water. She looked at me strangely then, and after an awkward pause, she invited me in.

I quickly followed her in before she changed her mind. So, what is it this time? she asked. Something in the way she looked at me told me that I’d have to be more open with her than I had been previously. Her big brown eyes looked almost luminescent in the soft light, luminescent and dewy at the same time, dewy and intense and perhaps slightly questioning.

What’s the matter with your eyes? I asked, frowning.

It’s called tears, Stanley, she said, turning away.

I was beside her in two strides, and then she was in my arms. I kissed away her tears and sat her down on the lounge.

Let me see if I can explain my involvement with Dr. Mitchener, I said, trying to choose my words carefully. He doesn’t just run a scientific lab, Catherine. He’s, uh, into other things, into all sorts of things.

Other things, all sorts of things? She repeated slowly, looking at me with raised eyebrows and a penetrating glance, as she waited for me to continue. What kind of things?

There was silence as I hesitated, looking down at my shoes. You want the whole lot, don’t you? I said as I raised my eyes to meet hers.

All of it, she said. I want to know exactly what’s going on, Stanley.

Um, well . . . I guess I may as well jump in the deep end . . . Mitchener is a magician.

A magician! She leaned back on the couch, one hand grasping at the padded arm. I saw both puzzlement and shock on her face.

I leaned toward her and took hold of her hand. Not a stage magician, Catherine, I said gently. I mean someone who is into metaphysics.

Well, why didn’t you just say so? she said, visibly relaxing.

You mean, you’re not freaked? I asked, amazed at her reaction. She shook her head, so I continued. "I didn’t say it that way because he utilises the ancient laws of the sacred science of magic. Many have discredited the term magic to the point where most people hold it with some disregard."

Well, yes, I did once, she said, but please go on.

I looked at her guardedly, but there was only genuine interest in her expression, and I let out a silent sigh of relief as I said, In reality, magic teaches the knowledge and the application of universal laws, the ultimate mastery of the elements.

She didn’t respond for a long time, and I thought I’d overstepped the mark when she said, That’s a very far-out statement, Stanley, but I understand where you are coming from.

You do? I didn’t know you understood anything about magic!

I don’t understand much about it at all, but I have read some articles from a reputable source. I just didn’t think there was anything so close to home.

Well, that’s what Mitchener’s involved in, I said warily, and I’m one of his students.

She looked shocked, and her eyes looked huge in her pale face as she whispered, I didn’t realise you were that deeply into it; I thought it was just a scientific lab.

I looked directly at her and said quietly, It’s the most important part of my life. I always knew that I was different from other people, but it wasn’t until I met Mitchener that everything fell into place.

She didn’t answer immediately. She just sat there with a sort of blank look on her face. Then she rose rather quickly from the couch and said, I’ll make some tea, and we can talk about it further.

While she was gone, I glanced around the room with interest. Catherine had been redecorating the cottage for quite some time, but I had never really been interested in that sort of activity, so I hadn’t paid much attention to what she had been doing.

The room felt different. I was struck by the simple charm of it as it emanated a very relaxing atmosphere. She had removed the drab coverings from the dark furniture and replaced them with soft pastel floral prints. As my eyes roved around the room, I noticed that the drapes were in the same soft prints. She had given the room life and warmth, with the feeling of a cozy country cottage, and I told her so as she entered with the tea.

She raised her dark brows in amazement. I didn’t think you noticed such things, she said.

I looked at her sheepishly. It was more the feeling of the room that struck me, I replied. Then I had a good look. You really have achieved wonders. It just feels so homey now. It feels good to be here.

She smiled her thanks as she poured the tea. After I had explained some of the basic principles of magic to her, she sighed as she spoke. I guess I’ll have to learn to live with it, then.

You’re not angry?

I was peeved because I didn’t know what was taking up all of your spare time, she said, reaching for a biscuit. You often work late with one of the girls I know from the lab, and I just wanted you to be honest with me.

Ah, Susan and I have a lot in common, but it’s mostly work related. We met when we were both members of another mystical order, but we’re just very good friends.

She looked at me and smiled. I know; I have friends like that, too. After a slight pause she said, I know a little about metaphysics. I’ve collected quite a few books about various aspects of it.

Now it was my turn to be surprised. I looked at her for a long moment, almost seeing her properly for the first time. Shoulder-length brown curly hair framed a flawless complexion, and her eyelashes were thick and black. The remnants of her tears had made them spike together, giving her brown eyes more definition. It sort of gave her an elfin look. But there was something else there, too, a sadness or something I couldn’t quite put my finger on, that gave her a look of maturity.

Catherine gave me a perplexed look. Why the scrutiny, Stanley?

Oh, it’s nothing, I said, shaking my head. I stood up and moved over to the bookcase, running my fingers across the polished wood before I answered her. You surprised me, that’s all; I didn’t know you had an interest in metaphysics or magic. I looked over at her and smiled. It doesn’t matter what name it goes under; it means the same thing, really, particularly whenever authentic initiation is at stake.

Initiation? You’re really into it then, aren’t you? I heard the anxiety in her voice.

I walked back to her and smiled. Hey, relax! It’s nothing spooky; I’m not into witchcraft or black magic or anything like that. Just like kids take a test at the end of every school year to see how they’re going, so the tests of life are referred to as initiations.

Oh, yes, she said, I see what you mean when you put it like that. But aren’t there sort of . . . Her voice trailed away.

Don’t be confused about initiations, I said. You’ve probably heard some mumbo jumbo in the past that’s scared you. If you’re interested, I’ll fill you in some time, but if you’re lucky enough to find a teacher to initiate you into the mysteries of the sacred sciences, we call it the practice of magic or metaphysics.

But what has that got to do with the tests of life? Catherine wanted to know.

Well, usually at some point, you devote your life to helping others, and the test is—do you do it to gratify your own ego, to attain honour and glory—or do you become a seeker of wisdom and truth, a world server, ready to impart your knowledge selflessly to those who ask?

I saw a small frown pucker her brow. But isn’t that discipleship?

She caught me unaware. Huh? I looked at her incredulously. How do you know about that?

She gestured toward the bookcase. I walked back and dropped to my haunches and peered at the titles. Most of the books dealt with subjects such as mysticism, prophecy, ancient civilizations, personal growth, astrology, Tarot, and metaphysics. There were also numerous bibles and other texts.

I turned away deep in thought. How could I have missed it? How could I have been so blind? Now, I knew what the attraction was. Subconsciously I had picked up on it; it just hadn’t filtered through to brain consciousness. I hadn’t really spent much time at her cottage, either. I only vaguely remembered the bookcase.

She interrupted my reverie with a startling revelation. My father gave me the bibles and the books on ancient civilizations and spiritualism. Just before he died, he discovered that there had been other records of virgin births in many of the old cultures, and he was interested in how they correlated with our Christian teachings and whether the stories were analogies or, in fact, had some credence to them. He did discover some of the cultures, but he always said he hoped to find more.

Really? That’s very interesting. Um, whereabouts? I managed to mumble as my mind raced to keep up with what she was saying.

China, India, Persia, and South America, I think.

Have you done any study on the Bible yourself, Catherine?

Oh, yes, I have enjoyed delving into Father’s notes, and I’ve come to appreciate the fact that unless you know the code, you can’t gain an accurate interpretation.

There it was again, the code. The code! I’d completely forgotten that Mitchener was waiting for me at the lab. Catherine, I’m supposed to be at the lab! I shrieked.

After a hurried good-bye, I ran out into the fading twilight. Phew, the rain hadn’t done much to cool things down. Or maybe I was just hot and bothered because of what had unfolded with Catherine. The air seemed oppressive even at this time of night.

I jumped into my car and turned the ignition. Nothing! Oh, no! This was all I needed now. I glanced out of the rear vision mirror and turned the ignition once more. Still nothing! I looked in the mirror again. There was a car parked in the shadows a little distance behind me. The nose was exposed in a spot of light coming through the trees. It was a Porsche 911 Turbo. I had seen one similar to that at the shopping complex; there were not too many of those around. I tried the ignition again; absolutely nothing. I fumbled to release the seat belt. Drat, it was stuck. Eventually it released, and I almost fell out of the car, legs running before they hit the ground.

I arrived back at Catherine’s place out of breath and explained the situation. She offered to take me to the lab herself. As we drove away, I noticed the sports car pull out and sit a comfortable distance behind us. Now, this could have been just a coincidence, but I got an uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach.

Catherine looked at me briefly, giving me one of her radiant smiles. So, she said, tell me a little bit more about the mastery of the elements.

I grinned back and paused for a moment, trying to figure out the best way to explain such a difficult subject in terms that she could easily understand. Well, I said finally, what do you know about the elements yourself?

Only what I’ve read in the books on astrology. Catherine turned and looked at me briefly before concentrating on the road again. I know they are called fire, air, water, and earth, and that your birth date indicates a particular element.

I told her I didn’t know much about the astrological aspect and asked her to explain more fully, hoping she would open up to me so I could assess her knowledge.

She nodded. I’ll do my best. Then after a pause, "Aries, Leo, and Sagittarius are fire signs, and if you