Northern Britannia - 4th Century CE. A young man stumbles upon a mysterious hedgerow which seems to encircle a large area in the midst of a seemingly desolate part of an open, green plain. His confusion was peaked by this discovery as his previous understanding of his homeland, upon which he stood, hadn't ever contained such an anomaly. As he allowed his curiosity to eclipse his pronounced disbelief, he began to explore the perimeter of the large, perfectly manicured hedgerow to find very quickly that it lacked an obvious entrance point. Luckily, the tenacious man was armed with a broadsword which he quickly drew and commenced to cutting a large hole in the dense foliage. As he broke through the three-foot-thick barrier, he was astonished to find himself face to face against a large green wall. As he gained a better perspective on what he had discovered, he found to his amazement that he had laid his eyes not upon a wall but a gargantuan steppe pyramid who's walls were adorned with a thick covering of moss.
As I lay in trance, having begun a hypnosis session under the pretense of discovering a wall which stood between my healing and I, I quickly found that I had unwittingly entered a past life. It was now apparent to me that my fantastical galavanting as a knight in medieval times which occupied my time as a young boy proved to be a vestige of a previous incarnation spent as a Celt in ancient Britain. His name was Teuto, a name which denoted strength and leadership, a royal name, short for Teutorigos, which would later evolve into the surname Tudor, a renowned english lineage. Feeling as though a piece of my own lineage had fallen into alignment, I smiled contently and proceeded to climb the mystical pyramid in my Inner World.
His arms outstretched to their extent, Teuto could barely reach the ledge atop the first steppe. He hoisted himself up and balanced himself upon the soft floor. Just six more, he thought as he looked up, barely able to make out the top of the structure against the backdrop of an intense afternoon sun. As his gaze adjusted, he noticed that the bright glare which had temporarily obfuscated his vision was not a product of the sun itself but that, curiously, the pyramid seemed to produce its own light from atop the apex. He continued his vertical trek and upon having reached the final layer just below the peak, the object of his fascination came into focus. Before him burned the large effigy of a bright golden eagle with outstretched wings. A statue, larger than him, with the profound appearance of regality in the highest degree. He had never observed such a powerful image, and he stumbled backward in astonishment, almost loosing his footing at the edge. He caught himself, and involuntarily bowed before the great eagle in obsequiousness.
The internal image was so powerful and I felt a look of astonishment cross my face. I knew at that moment that this figure would become a great source of wisdom if only I could communicate with it. I was then urged to speak with it by the Alchemist leading the session.
Teuto then began a great dialogue with the eagle. Sigil was his name, and it was explained that the eagle image he so proudly embodied had been robbed long ago by the corrupted nation of Rome. He elucidated that the marauding hordes of armor-clad centurions which had swept through the mainland of Europe like a plague of locusts were doing so to spread a dark network of control. They systematically created consternation and conflict to separate groups of men from one another. If men were separate and hopeless, they were more easily controlled. He went on to explain that the eagle symbol was at one point a symbol of hope and limitlessness; a symbol that underlined the indomitable nature of the human spirit. As such, Sigil chose his name to emphasize the dark intentions that have perverted his once pure image; and the perverts were at the heart of an ostensible governing body that, beneath its honorable visage, are steeped in world domination and a plan to enslave all who oppose them. Teuto took great interest in this information as he knew all too well what the Roman conquest meant. For he himself was currently a victim.
I took a deep breath and became Sigil. I wanted to feel the world from within his powerful body and observe the world through his supreme perception. I was at once able to see in all directions simultaneously, observing before me a strong young man with long braided red hair, clothed in furs and home sewn garments, and as he looked up at me, I could see that my information on the legion that was currently occupying his homeland scared him greatly. As Sigil, I began to speak again, and I took a deep breath, returning to the body of Teuto, and received the next message.
Sigil continued to relate other truths to the eager young Celt. He described the importance of the pyramid upon which they stood and others like it in the world. These pyramids, he said, were power stations that represented the human energetic constitution. They are to be seen as metaphors for the cultivation and channeling of powerful earthen energies which, when used correctly, could be considered the best line of defense against the coming storm of horrific oppression that is the ravenous, plutocratic Roman state. A gift of a scroll conveying the coveted blueprint schematic of a pyramid aligned directly over a functioning vortex was bequeathed unto Teuto as an illustration of the innate power source that is his human body.
Gleaning these powerful truths gave me a sense of empowerment as it was made very clear through a barrage of subtle, subliminal messages given by Sigil that the powers that are in control to this very day are the familial remnants of the once great Roman empire. A nefarious power structure developed and implemented aeons ago to assert a surreptitious domination over all was still intact to this very day. I quickly saw the importance of the divine gift of the scroll. Sigil's words have echoed in my heart ever since our encounter on that fateful day; I knew then as I know now that it is our responsibility to free ourselves from this hidden oppression. As I was impregnated with courage, so to was Teuto, who was already on his way back down the pyramid.
I had known of Teuto's plight already as my knack for the study of ancient history had once led to an extensive overview of the Roman occupation of Britain in the early parts of the last millenium. The Celts of the region had been disillusioned long ago as to the degree under which they were already oppressed. The Roman emissaries to the Celtic leaders had manipulated them into allowing not only decorated dignitaries such as a number of Legates into the region, but also a few large legions. These troop movements effectively secured the trade routes and commerce without even a hint of suspicion from the already-warring tribes in the area. It was an iniquitous, ingenious plan that had gone off without a hitch, and now that certain tribes of Celts were waking up to the silent incursion, it was too late for an overt defense. The treaties had been signed and the Roman fortifications built. A plan that would require a certain degree of stealth and finesse was soon hatched, and Teutorigos, the leader of his people, was to be at the helm...