Codex Entry II: The Death Priestess Of Mintaka

There are memories that do not surface gently. They return like tides; slow at first, then all at once, until the soul can no longer pretend they were never lived.

This entry records a lifetime I did not remember until I was ready to retrieve it. Not because it was hidden, but because it was unfinished. Mintaka was not lost in a single moment. It was dismantled frequency by frequency until the light itself collapsed inward.

And I was there when it happened.

MINTAKA: THE WORLD OF RECURRENCE

Mintaka was a planet of pure light and water. Its oceans were pale blue, luminous, alive. Its land rose in white sands and soft cliff faces, villages perched above the sea like offerings to the sky. It was a matriarchal world. Women held the line of wisdom, governance, ritual, and remembrance. Everyone knew everyone. Not by name alone, but by soul. Mintaka did not operate on the concept of heaven or hell. There was no exile, no judgment, no eternal separation. There was return.

When a body reached the end of its life, it did not disappear into the unknown. A death priestess would guide the soul through crossing, and the soul would recycle back into Mintaka, reborn into the same planetary family, carrying continuity, familiarity, and love. Souls were not strangers. They were remembered. This made Mintaka a place of profound peace. There was no fear of death, because death was simply a doorway back home.

THE TEMPLE CAVE

The death rites were performed in a sacred cave near the shoreline, a living temple carved into stone and crystal by time and devotion. It was there that I served. I was a death priestess. Not an executioner. Not a watcher of endings. A midwife of transitions. I held hands as bodies released breath. I sang souls across thresholds. I anchored passage so no one crossed alone or confused. The work was holy. It was beautiful. It was my joy. I did not see death as loss. I saw it as continuity. That is why what came next fractured me so completely.

THE ATTENTION OF DARKNESS

Mintaka radiated something the Draconians could not tolerate. It was not power in the way empires understand power. It was purity. The souls of Mintaka included many origin flame bearers—first-generation souls, born from starbursts and galactic births, celestials whose frequency could not be coerced, corrupted, or inverted. These souls were rare. They were irreplaceable. And they were immune to darkness. That made them dangerous. The Draconians were not seeking conquest alone. They were seeking eradication and studying high-frequency souls to find a way to destroy them permanently.

Mintaka became a target.

THE FREQUENCY BOMBS

The attack did not come as invasion ships landing on soil. It came from the sky.

Bursts of energy (frequency bombs) were fired into the oceans. I remember standing near the beach and watching beams strike the water, the sea pulling back unnaturally, the air vibrating with terror before the waves surged forward. Tsunamis formed. Earthquakes cracked the planetary core. The planet began to implode. People screamed. Children ran. And I knew, if the priestesses died too soon, souls would be trapped forever. Without the rites, the dead would linger in the astral; vulnerable, disoriented, and easily harvested. I ran up the cliff face toward the cave.

THE CHOICE TO STAY

There were no evacuations, no portals opening up to take us elsewhere. We were all going to die. And not everyone could cross without help.

I met the eyes of another priestess. We did not need to speak. We understood the cost.

If we died first, countless souls would be stranded. If we committed to the death rites until the last moment, we could save as many souls as possible, but there would be no one to save us.

We volunteered. Not as martyrs, but as guardians. We would remain in the astral after our bodies were destroyed, helping as many souls cross as possible until we ourselves were annihilated. This was not despair. It was devotion.

THE WITNESSES WHO DID NOT INTERVENE

What I did not know at the time, but later realized when I watched my life as a bystander, was that the Andromedans were present. They watched. Bound by polarity laws that forbade intervention, they stood witness as Mintaka collapsed. They honored the sacrifice. They observed the balance.

They did nothing.

To be seen in annihilation and not saved is a wound that echoes longer than death.

This was one of the deepest fractures that followed me into other lives.

THE ASTRAL TRAP

As predicted, after the planet imploded, the Draconians swept the astral realm. They were harvesting remaining souls for experimentation. The priestess beside me was captured. I was not.

Before the end, we had made a pact.

I would hide in the astral, remaining unseen, untraceable, so the Draconians would believe they had captured the remaining celestials. When the time was right, I would retrieve her. And the others.

I watched as she was taken. I watched as cages filled. And then...nothing. Time dissolved.

THOUSANDS OF YEARS OF WAITING

I remained in the astral realm of Mintaka for what felt like eternity.

I had no body and no rescue. No one even knew I was lost. I waited for myself.

I waited across lifetimes, incarnations, ascensions until the version of me existed who could see where I had been left.

Until this life.

THE RETRIEVAL

When I finally remembered my priestesshood, I knew what had to be done. I had to retrieve my own soul fragment from the astrals of Mintaka, and then revisit that lifetime to discover the sacrifice my fellow priestess had made.

I could not enter the laboratories physically. That would expose me. But I could open a portal.

I watched and I held the doorway open for her, anchored safely in this life.

She ran. And once free, she did what priestesses do. She broke the cages. She freed the others. She returned the fragments to their rightful timelines. When the last soul escaped, the portal closed.

For the first time since Mintaka fell, I was no longer waiting for myself.

THE TRUE ABANDONMENT WOUND

This is where the deepest wound formed. Not from loss alone. But from being left.

From being seen and not saved. From doing the sacred work while others observed from safety. From having to return for myself because no one else would. This is why abandonment has never felt simple to me. It is ancient. It is cosmic. It is layered. And it is now complete.

CLOSING RECORD

Mintaka did not fall because it was weak. It fell because its light was intolerable to darkness.

I did not stay because I wanted to die. I stayed because someone had to hold the line until the last soul crossed. And I did not forget. I waited until I could come back for myself.

This entry stands as record, remembrance, and retrieval.

The death priestess did not perish.

She completed her rite.