There I stood in the center of the invisible circle in the center of the temple, erect, like a valiant medieval knight, my right hand clasped firmly around the handle of my double-edged, three feet sword. I felt slight sporadic shivers along the right side of my back but remained steadfast, facing the east. The temperature inside was a cool fifty-five degrees Fahrenheit but my long black robe kept me warm and comfortable.
The four walls, ceiling and floor were a flat black color, bestowing upon the area the appeal of an impregnable fortress. Only the necessary implements were contained within. Two yards in front of me was the altar: a black double-cube with a high gloss finish. On it were the four elemental weapons, positioned in the quadrants that correspond to their origin.
Lying on the floor between the altar and me was the triangle of manifestation – white, with apex facing me and presenting a noticeable contrast with the dark floor. At both sides of the base, about eight inches away, stood two candles mounted on four-inch-cubes blocks. Their frames were an unflickering glow, uninterrupted by the intoxicating calm. At the apex, the fragrant smoke of the incense arose from the censer and engulfed the windowless room with the aroma of frankincense and myrrh.
About six feet from the floor, where the eastern wall joins the northern, was a small black shelf. On it stood an oil-lamp, dimly lit encased by a red cellophane tube. This dispersed red light throughout the area and added a comforting glow.
A deafening silence enveloped the room with stifling subtlety. Nothing, apart from the sound of my deep rhythmic breathing, could be heard. There I stood, ready to explore the mysteries of the craft.
// original //
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