The journey south along the Nile was like traveling through time itself. Ancient temples rose from the desert like dreams of stone, while village life along the riverbanks continued much as it had for thousands of years. Their small group moved slowly, stopping wherever people showed interest in the teaching. They learned from Egyptian temples and teachers along the way.
Mari found that the Egyptians, with their deep understanding of death and rebirth, quickly grasped the essence of Iesous’ message about transformation and evolution of the soul. “Your Osiris dies and is reborn,” she would tell them, “just as our Lord died and returned in glory. These are not competing truths, but different faces of the same divine mystery.”
The scribes recorded everything — not just the teachings, but the questions people asked, the way different cultures understood and adapted the message. Mari encouraged this diversity of understanding. “theWAY is like the Nile,” she would say. “One river, but it waters many different kinds of gardens.”
One evening, as they made camp near a grove of date palms, a group of local children gathered to listen to stories. Mari told them about Iesous and the butterfly, how he had used its transformation to teach about the soul’s journey.
“Look there,” she said, pointing to a chrysalis hanging from a branch. “Inside that small case, something miraculous is happening. The caterpillar is becoming something entirely new. This is what the Lord meant when he spoke of being ‘born again’ — being born as a new kind of being, rising higher, becoming more beautiful, more free.”
The children’s eyes grew wide with wonder, and Mari felt Iesous’ presence strongly, remembering how he too had always found his deepest teachings in nature’s simple miracles.
As they traveled further south, the air grew moist, the vegetation more lush. They began to hear stories of the kingdom of Aksum, where ancient wisdom was preserved in hidden monasteries. Some said their libraries held scrolls from the time before the great flood, though Mari knew better than to put too much stock in such tales.
What interested her more were the reports of communities already practicing something very like theWAY, though they called it by different names. She hoped it would be remnants of the most ancient teachings of theWAY. “The Lord’s work goes before us,” she told her companions. “We’re not bringing something new, but helping people recognize what they already know in their hearts. Many are old souls and have encountered the teaching before. We remind them.”
One night, unable to sleep, Mari walked a little way from their camp to watch the stars. The desert air was cool and sharp with the scent of herbs. Sirius blazed overhead, seeming to pulse with meaning.
“The signs are becoming clearer,” she whispered to the presence she always felt near her. “The gateway you spoke of… it’s not just in one place or time, is it? It’s opening everywhere, in every heart that’s ready.”
A warm breeze stirred her hair, carrying the faint scent of lotus flowers though they were far from any water. She smiled, recognizing his touch in the wind, his message in the fragrance. Yes, the time was approaching — not just for her journey’s end, but for a new beginning that would transform the world.
In the distance, a night bird called, its song pure and piercing in the darkness. Tomorrow they would continue south, following the river’s flow toward Aksum. But for now, Mari stood in the starlight, her heart full of gratitude for all that had been and all that was yet to come.
As they came closer to Aksum, the landscape changed dramatically, as if announcing the was ocean ahead. The endless desert gave way to rolling highlands, their slopes green with vegetation Mari had never seen before. The evening air grew cooler, filled with the songs of unfamiliar birds, and in the distance, mountains rose like guardians against the sky.
“Look,” said Ruth one morning, pointing ahead where a rider approached at speed. “They’ve been watching for us.”
Indeed, word of their coming had traveled ahead. The rider was the first of several guides sent to escort them to the capital. Mari noticed how differently they were received here — not as refugees or wandering teachers, but as honored emissaries bringing long-awaited wisdom.
“Your coming was foretold,” the lead guide told them as they made their way through fertile valleys. “Our seers spoke of a teaching that would unite the wisdom of East and West, carried by a woman who walks between worlds.”
Mari smiled at this but said nothing. Sailors talk a lot, and books speak volumes more than writers intend. She had learned that such stories often arose around the teaching, like flowers growing naturally where seeds had fallen. What mattered was not the stories themselves, but the truth they pointed toward.
The capital city took her breath away when they first saw it — not for its size or grandeur, though it had both, but for how it seemed to grow from the landscape itself, its stone buildings rising in harmony with the hills that cradled them. Great stelae, carved with unknown scripts, stood like silent sentinels, and everywhere Mari looked she saw signs of ancient wisdom preserved and honored.
They were taken to a compound attached to one of the main temples, where rooms had been prepared for them. That evening, as Mari sat in the courtyard watching the sunset paint the stone buildings in shades of gold and rose, she felt a familiar presence beside her.
“The signs are all around us now, aren’t they?” said Ruth softly, settling beside her on the stone bench. Over the months of travel, the young woman had become more than just a companion — she was now Mari’s closest confidante, one who often seemed to sense what Mari was thinking before she spoke it.
“Yes,” Mari answered, watching the evening star appear above the mountains. “Can you feel it? The way the very air seems to vibrate with expectation? He’s preparing something extraordinary, not just here but everywhere. The gateway opens wider each day.”
In the following weeks, they established a routine similar to what had worked in Egypt. Mari taught daily, while the scribes recorded everything and translated it into local languages. The people of Aksum were particularly interested in the Lord’s teachings about the divine feminine and the family in heaven, headed by God the Father and God the Mother, as these resonated with their own ancient traditions.
But Mari could feel that their time here would be relatively brief. More and more often, her dreams were filled with images of mountains — not these African highlands, but the towering peaks of the Himalaya. Kashmir called to her, its pull growing stronger with each passing day.
One night, as she sat meditating under the stars, the sensation of Iesous’ presence became almost overwhelming. The air around her seemed to shimmer with light, and she could have sworn she heard his voice, clear as temple bells:
“The time approaches, beloved one. The seeds we’ve planted are taking root everywhere — in Egypt, in Ethiopia, in lands you haven’t yet seen. Seeds planted by ships lost at sea and finding shore in places no maps know. But the greatest flowering will begin in Kashmir. Are you ready?”
“I am,” she whispered to the star-filled night. “Though my heart trembles at what may come.”
“Don’t be afraid,” the presence seemed to say. “Remember — love is stronger than death. What’s coming is more beautiful than anything you can imagine.”
A cool breeze stirred the leaves of the courtyard trees, carrying the scent of night-blooming jasmine. Tomorrow she would begin preparing for the next phase of their journey. But for now, Mari sat in the deepening darkness, her heart full of wonder at how theWAY continued to unfold, like a lotus opening its petals one by one, revealing new beauty with each unfolding.
She smiled, recognizing his touch in the wind, his message in the fragrance. Yes, the time was approaching — not just for her journey’s end, but for a new beginning that would transform the world.
In the distance, a night bird called, its song pure and piercing in the darkness. Tomorrow they would continue to prepare for the trip to India But for now, beneath the vast African sky, Mari felt the first stirrings of the great change that awaited them all. The preparations in Aksum would require more than just physical arrangements — they would need to ready their souls for what was to come.
~end of preview chapters