Enanika: Visionary Fiction—The Roof of the World

In Chapters 8 and 9 of Enanika, Anu is drawn far beyond the quiet streets of Milkwood into one of the most ancient spiritual landscapes on Earth — Tibet, the roof of the world. At the Hermitage of Ling-Shi-La and later at the Sanctuary of Zamsar, she encounters a living spiritual lineage that once shaped, and still shapes, the energetic evolution of Earth. These chapters move between worlds — Milkwood and the Himalayas, present and past — revealing doorways into the sacred. While the Hermitage offers transmission, the Sanctuary offers a love story.

Chapter 8: The Hermitage of Ling-Shi-La

Anu’s day in Milkwood had been simple: a short shift at the cafe, a quiet walk home, and the soft murmuring of Fat Cow Creek as she settled into bed. She didn’t slip into sleep. Instead, she slipped out of her body. 

The heaviness of Earth fell away. The rolling hills of Milkwood faded into the distance. She was astral travelling, moving through layers of light — a thin veil. The air thickened again. Weight entered her limbs. Her feet struck solid ground. She inhaled sharply and felt cold air. 

Her body had reformed on a narrow path carved into a cliff face. Below was a drop so deep the bottom dissolved into haze. Huge rocks jutted outward, shielding her ledge from the worst of the icy hurricane gusts. A voice rose from the cliffs below, steady and calm. 

“Downwards, child. Not upwards. The path is here.”

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Enanika: Visionary Fiction—Seed of Life

In Chapters 4 and 5 of Enanika, we learn of the ancient Seed of Life sculpture and the frequency technology that links worlds. Anu discovers that Earth carries a more intimate connection to Enanika than she realised.

Chapter 4: Seed of Life Sculpture

Closing the door of her cottage, with one last lingering look at her cosy, dear home, Anu greeted the callboy.

“Morning. You’re early.”

“Never early or late,” he replied with a wink. “Always right on time.”

She fell into step beside him as they began the walk towards the hilltop. The air was still and honey-scented. The moss beneath them was soft, absorbing the sound of their footsteps.

“I see you’re travelling via the Seed of Life sculpture,” said the callboy. “Not a ship?”

“I prefer the subtle to the showy,” said Anu.

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