The Story of Zi’antha

There was great joy in the Law of One when Zi’antha accepted her position. The induction ceremony was to be held the same week, but first there was a private interview with Dondrub. The room where they met was one of the most beautiful places Zi’antha had ever seen. The ceiling was painted with the constellations of Pleiades, Arcturus, and Sirius. The windows were gracefully arched, with stained glass images of dolphins, unicorns, Phoenix and other totem animals. The carefully placed crystals caught her eye; diamonds, rubies, and emeralds, both polished and raw, regulated the energy of the room. The flowing curtains and fountains along the walls added a gentle feeling to the atmosphere, which she felt as she walked towards the place where Dondrub sat.

He stood up, and as she came near, he kissed her hand. Even though they had met before, this was the first time that Zi’antha sense the true gentleness of this man. He invited her to be seated, offering her refreshments of fruit, cake and juice, which were on a small table between the chairs that faced one another.

“Zi’antha,” he began, once they had settled in, “I wish to begin by personally saying how honored I am that you will be part of the Law of One. Of course, we all knew we wanted you to be part of the Law, but the decision rested upon you.”

“I am honored as well. I had no idea I would be asked.”

“Now, my dear, I am going to tell you the story of the first woman named Zi’antha. You know you come from a long line of Keepers of the Principles of Divine Grace, but, correct me if I am wrong, I don’t believe you know the story of the first Zi’antha.”

“No, I do not.”

“I will tell you now. Even before Atlantis,” he began, “before Lemuria and Mu, other beings inhabited the Earth. These civilizations have long been forgotten, so much so, that no evidence of their existence remains. Zi’antha had been a priestess in one such land. In that incarnation, she lived in a beautiful sanctuary on top of a high hill in the Temple of the Flower of Life. She spent her days, secluded from the world. Her surroundings fulfilled all her needs. Fruit and vegetables were abundant in the garden, which she tended herself, and those from the outside left offerings of food and cloth for her robes. The offerings were made in gratitude for the work that Zi’antha did, the work that allowed all the beings on Earth to live joyfully and in abundance.

The Golden Flower of Life in the Temple was the receptor of Light from the Higher Realms. Zi’antha channeled the Light into the Flower of Life, which, in turn, broadcast it out to the world. The temple sat at the origin of a lay line, so that the impeccable Light, which was being received, was transmitted through the Earth’s electromagnetic grid, to every part of the planet. It became the primary energy source for all inhabitants, at the same time, maintaining the ideal Light Quotient of each individual.

There came a time, unbeknownst to Zi’antha, when a group of beings from another dimension began to harvest a portion of the Light. This meant that over time, the vibration of Light being sent into the world from the Temple of the Flower of Life had become compromised. The effect of this was a weakening of the moral fiber of many of the Earth’s inhabitants. The result was a desire for power in some and suffering for those who had no coping skills for living with such a degradation of spirit.

By the time Zi’antha discovered the breach it was too late. Even though no one else blamed her, when she became aware of her part in the demise of her beloved land, she was devastated. She could no longer fulfill her purpose, so she left the temple and roamed the Earth. She had no way to sustain herself, nor did she know how to rid herself of the guilt that began to consume her. She became destitute and nearly spiritless.

She wandered, directionless, for how long she did not know until she feared she could go on no longer. As Zi’antha knelt on the ground, her forehead resting on a rock, she felt the presence of another, but she did not have the will to look up to see who was there. She had given up. She felt a warm hand on her shoulder. Someone was kneeling beside her, and again the same hand stroked her hair. Something about the touch of another revitalized her. She lifted her head and looked into the face of a man with kindness in his eyes. Holding out his hand for her, she grasped it and his strong arm raised her to her feet. As she stood before him, she began to swoon. He caught her as she fell and carried her away. This man was one who had managed to maintain his high vibration when few others did. He carried the Light of the Hope of Humanity.

When Zi’antha awoke, she was in a place she had never seen, a small temple of rejuvenation made of pure white marble. Over time, she was healed, and her spirit was restored, but never again would she see the Temple of the Flower of Life. The days of the Keepership had ended. The world had changed, but all was not lost. Once she had recovered, together, she and the man, whose name was Orion, held a light so pure that it would forever endure. It was the same light that would be born again to the incarnated Keeper of the Principles of Divine Grace. It was the same light that would be inside of each spiritual seeker and Master in the days to come. This is the legacy that you, Zi’antha, have brought into your Atlantean life.”

“I remember, as you spoke the words, it all came back to me,” she said.

“Now you know who you were and who you are.”


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