Chapter 9

The High Witch nodded. "The longer one stays at the same level, the more difficult it is to progress. Instead of cultivating new strengths, of transforming vice into virtue, one tends to attempt to enhance the existing strengths until they have chained themselves to that strength. They have created vice from virtue. Is there a difference between one who is preoccupied with the spiritual and neglects the physical and one who is consumed with the material and neglects the ethereal?"

"Yes," Uriel responded, "the one preoccupied by the spiritual is better."

"If we were meant to lead an entirely spiritual existence why do we incarnate in these sheaths called bodies?"

"So they are equally fanatical?"

"Are you asking me or telling me?"

Uriel gave Khyrhyelle a wry smile. "Telling."

"Good. Excess, whether it be of a positive nature or negative, is equidistant from the purpose of life."

"Which is what?" Uriel asked. But the High Witch would only look at him, waiting.

Uriel sat quietly for a long while, trying to figure out what Khyrhyelle was attempting to help him understand. He kept remembering the words of the HIERARCHY: One must be sent to restore the balance. A sudden shimmer of sunlight in Khyrhyelle's silver hair got his attention. He looked into her grey eyes, then at her grey robe. He recalled the scene in the library when she spoke in his mind, saying I wear the Grey which I have earned. He found his answer and was amazed at its simplicity. "Balance," he said. "Blending. Integration. When you mix white and black you get grey. Grey is the symbol of balance." He smiled then, proud of himself.