Atlantean Secrets, the tetralogy of spiritual novels by Samuel Sagan, is one of my favorite collection of books on Atlantis and the wonders of the Atlantean Civilization. I simply could not put these books down and have read them several times, each time discovering new layers of meanings and new truths. While reading Atlantean Secrets, I found myself taken on a cosmological odyssey, travelling into distant spaces and other dimensions of reality. These novels have had profound spiritual effect on me. I would recommend this spellbinding series to anyone looking for spiritual truths. If you are ready, they will trigger awakenings within you.
In Atlantean Secrets, Sagan describes secret initiations, journeys into non-physical worlds, and the phenomenal technology of consciousness (high states of enlightenment) of the Atlanteans. The magnificent tetralogy explores the scope of human consciousness. Present-day scientists devote themselves to the study of the material world. Similarly, the Atlantean civilization was directed towards inner worlds and inner realizations. Just as our civilization is investing immense resources in exploring and conquering the physical world, so the Atlanteans had fathomed consciousness and non-physical worlds.
Modern science is one or two thousand years old at the most. Whereas visionaries such as Edgar Cayce or Rudolf Steiner considered that the Atlantean civilization spanned more than 100,000 years. This led to realizations of considerable magnitude. In a world without electricity, it would be hard to believe that a ‘computer’ could perform millions of mathematical operations in one second. Similarly, it is difficult for us now to conceive the summits, which the Atlanteans reached.
Atlantean Secrets immerse the reader into a fascinating reality where worlds intersect, human beings and angels communicate directly, seers contemplate the distant past and future of humanity, and initiates travel along the ladders of levels of reality. Throughout the series, there are references and experiences relating to non-physical sages and beings, gods, angels, fallen angels, inhabitants of other worlds, and Flying Dragons, galactic intelligences of gigantic magnitude.
As the epic saga unfolds, a grand picture gradually emerges, a tapestry of past and future holding meaning for our present age and civilization. Atlantean Secrets carries warnings. Despite their phenomenal technology, the Atlanteans created large-scale disasters, which completely wiped out their civilization. Unless human beings learn from the past, the same mistakes are bound to be repeated.
Born in Paris, France, Samuel Sagan M.D. started practicing meditation during his teens. This led to studying medicine at Paris Faculty of Medicine and Sanskrit at Censier Sorbonne Nouvelle University. He held a Doctorate of Medicine on the topic of chakras and subtle bodies and degrees in acupuncture and homeopathy. In 1983 he stopped all activities to practice full-time meditation for 5 years.
Feeling the need to establish a center where genuine seekers could receive real training in meditation, Sagan founded the Clairvision School in Sydney, Australia in 1987. Determined to provide people with tangible and immediate results, he developed techniques to systematize experiences of consciousness.
Atlantean Secrets Tetralogy
The four novels that comprise of Atlantean Secrets are:
Volume 1 – Sleeper Awaken!
Volume 2 – Forever Love, White Eagle
Volume 3 – The Gods are Wise
Volume 4 – The Return of the Flying Dragon
Free Online Book of Atlantean Secrets (Sleeper Awaken!), Volume 1
The complete text of Atlantean Secrets (Sleeper Awaken!), Volume 1 is available for download on the Clairvision website. Link to Atlantean Secrets (Sleeper Awaken!), Volume 1
Excerpts from Atlantean Secrets (Sleeper Awaken!), Volume 1
I would like to share the following excerpts from Atlantean Secrets Volume 1 – Sleeper Awaken!
1 – The Book of the Beginnings
1.1 The Forever Love Legend
Totally ancient. Totally unknown.
An awesome cloud, coming from remoteness.
Born to travel, it moved fast and with great ease.
It illuminated the spheres with a majestic dark-blue glow as no one had ever seen. Not even the gods. Not even the Nagas who know all the secrets of the Underworlds.
The gods of Amaravati were standing in one long row on the shore of the Molten Sea, watching the cloud drawing near.
Among them, Kartendranath. Fingering his triaxe, the god shivered, “If this thing attacks us, then the Lord Melchisedek have mercy on us!”
The cloud’s hugeness was what confounded him. He had seen Flying Dragons before, but never so close. Finding himself face to face with one, he was shocked by the sheer magnitude of the being. And the music…
The music was beyond anything his Point could comprehend.
The Song of Creation.
Trillions of Voices answering each other’s calls.
Aeons of strangeness. Dreaming from before the Cosmic Night. Long, long before the gods were born.
When it reached the edge of the spheres of Melchisedek, the cloud stopped.
The music went on. Unfathomable weirdness made sound.
It reflected in the Molten waters – fire at the bottom of the sea, mirroring the flames of astonishing blueness in the heavens.
No one moved.
Silent, the gods contemplated the festival of light.
The language of the gods has a thousand names for blue. Not one of them fitted the aurora that illuminated their sky.
“It wants something!” Kartendranath intuited. “It is waiting for us to do something.” He turned to the god on his left, “Gana?”
Eyes fixed on the horizon, the god of the golden helmet responded, “The Web of Love is what has brought it here. As it wants, so it will receive.”
The Web of Love, which shines the Light of the Lord Melchisedek.
All of a sudden, the White Eagle of the gods took its flight. From the edge of the Molten Sea it darted skywards.
There was a pause in the music.
The gods held their breath.
The silence after the sound of the Flying Dragons is packed with mysteries. Endlessly profound like a Cosmic Night.
Shaped as a White beam, the Eagle travelled towards the foreign cloud.
A frail beam of light, compared to the cloud’s immensity.
In the silence, infinity was held.
As it reached the blue blaze, the beam faded.
The White Eagle of the gods vanished.
Evaporated into nothingness? Engulfed by the cloud?
It was hard to tell, even for the gods.
Until the music was heard again.
A different music. Extraordinarily melodious. It was still multifarious and untraceable like the Dawn of Creation, but its strangeness had softened. Its mathematical fire was enthused with solar fortitude. It carried the White Eagle’s unbounded heartness.
The Flying Dragon had comprehended the secrets of the Web of Love.
A legend was born.
On the shore of the Molten Sea, Lord Gana began to dance.
And for an entire night, the gods celebrated the mysteries of remoteness. Through the eye of the White Eagle, they beheld the cloud’s glory. The Flying Dragon had come from beyond the Abyss of the Deep and the Fault of Eternity. It had lived through many a cosmic cycle, travelled through many a thousand spheres from the Blue Lagoon to the Great Ant, and from the bottom of the Fault of Eternity where the Mother of the Light can be seen smiling to the Black Night of Remoteness where all secrets of the creation are concealed. Beyond time, space and infinity, beyond pralayas and cosmic births, there are mysteries that elude the gods themselves.
The White Eagle invited the Flying Dragon to stay.
This was not part of the order of the universe. A traveller through eternity, the Flying Dragon had to resume its course.
At dawn the White Eagle reappeared, emerging from the blue fire in the heavens. The spheres were vibrant with music, the gods intoxicated with elixir of infinity. The blazing cloud started moving – slowly, at first, so the White Eagle could fly in its trail.
The Eagle followed it to the edge of the spheres of Melchisedek, where the Web of Love ends and the spheres of remoteness begin. This was where the legendary farewell was exchanged,
“Forever love, Flying Dragon!”
“Forever love, White Eagle of the gods!”
The Flying Dragon disappeared in the immensity of remoteness. Echoes of its music kept resonating through the spheres for a thousand years.
Ever since, whoever cognises the Eagle can contemplate not only its infinite Spirit of Whiteness, but also a tinge of this multidimensional blueness from beyond the Abyss of the Deep and the Fault of Eternity. And whoever crosses the Great Abyss can hear the song of the Flying Dragon –
With all my mind, with all my heart,
I am with you, even when I am far away.
1.2 Seventy-five thousand years later, Atlantis, the temple of Eisraim
When Gervin first came back to his senses, Marka was standing by his side. “Praise the Great Apollo, Gervin of Thunder, ambassador of our Lord Melchisedek,” she whispered into his ear.
A thunderous presence filled the room. Loud, hissing sounds, like furious snakes, shook the serenity of the night. They shattered the soft cocoon of shimmering starlight which patient Marka had woven around the sleeping body. From far away, a mysterious, foreign voice whispered, “Space Matrix time reconnection completed.” It was but an elusive breath, an improbable thread of meaning in a cosmos riddled with nebulous enigmas, but pregnant with ancient forces of incomprehensible magnitude. When she heard it, Marka shivered. And in a nearby chapel, the principal space controller of Eisraim also heard the wondrous murmur. He was amazed, and he knew – led by Space Matrix, Gervin of the Brown Robe had returned from the remote spheres of the Flying Dragons. He was now re-entering his body, which had been hibernating for thirty-two weeks under the expert supervision and tender care of Marka, the young priestess of Malchasek.
Completely disregarding the lawful necessity for slow transitions, cautious reconnections, and gradual reawakenings, Gervin smiled.
Marka was not in the least surprised. She had learnt the art of travelling from Gervin, she knew what the man was capable of. Despite being less than thirty years of age, Gervin, disciple of Orest, had conquered all the powers of the Masters of Thunder. Softly she chanted an ancient ritual lullaby which invoked her angel of Highness, “O great Malchasek, wings of infinity, silent fullness which moves the world, protect this newborn child.”
Using her voice as a thread, Gervin pulled himself back into his body all at once, and opened his eyes.
Marka was a short, dark-haired woman from the counties of the south. She was not beautiful, but what made her special among all the priestesses of Eisraim were her eyes. Looking into Marka’s eyes was like catching a glimpse of a primordial glory that had long disappeared from the kingdom – an enchanting, irrational feast of light to celebrate the extravaganza that ran through the world shortly after it had been delivered.
Young Gervin, who wore the long brown gown of the Masters of Thunder, looked into the eyes of the priestess clad in the orange dress of the order of Malchasek. Light met light, and there was fullness.
“Welcome, friend! You are shining with the wonders of remoteness,” Marka’s smile was glowing. “What extraordinary things you must have seen!”
Gervin kept smiling, silently rediscovering the magic of her eyes after his lengthy odyssey. To him, the journey had lasted not seven months but seven aeons. For in the spheres of remoteness, time can be stretched, curved back, then concentrated all in one point, made to explode in lines that run in every direction and again can be stretched, and curved into an infinity of temporal paradoxes.
Gervin did not use his physical voice. After hibernating for so long, the rule was that no body part be moved for at least three and, preferably, seven days. He spoke to Marka’s consciousness through a voice channel of space. “Marka, wise woman in the Law, what a joy to see you again!”
“I have waited for this moment with such impatience, my friend in the Law!” Marka used her normal voice.
“My body is teeming with wonderful energies. Much clearer than when I left. What a feat you have accomplished, Marka! I have none of the dull inertia that usually afflicts travellers when they re-enter their body. How can I thank you for your tender care?”
“Do not thank me, Gervin, thank Malchasek the great angel. It is his light that I have projected into your body. Tell me, friend, how does it feel to be in a human body after having been spread in the infinity of space for so long?”
“Like being squeezed into a tiny dot. The consciousness of the Flying Dragons is incommensurable, Marka. Far beyond anything the human mind can conceive.”
“The visions you sent me were staggering.”
“So you received them!” the voyager rejoiced.
“Every day, every night – every hour! The images were so beautiful they often made me cry with joy. I was especially moved by those you sent on your way back.”
“The Fault of Eternity?” Gervin asked, wondering how Marka’s eyes were when she cried.
“And the Abyss of the Deep, where the Mother of the Light can be seen smiling. This was the most beautiful of all.”
“Mm…” Agreeing, Gervin brought the subject around, “Marka, the Flying Dragons made me promise that the first thing I would do upon returning to the kingdom would be to inquire about the order of the White Eagle. Unfortunately I had never heard of this order. Can you tell me anything about it?”
“It’s a female order. Extremely ancient.”
“Do we have any of them in our temple?”
“I know there used to be a chapel of the White Eagle in the female wing of the temple. But it would have been at least hundreds of lawful years ago. I believe the order of the White Eagle has more or less disappeared from the kingdom.”
“Well, Marka, this is going to change. I have engaged the Word of Thunder – I will find the White Eagles and make a nest for them in Eisraim.”
“Engaged the Word of Thunder?” Marka laughed with wonder. “But this is extreme, Gervin!”
“The Flying Dragons have declared themselves the allies of the Masters of Thunder.”
“You negotiated an alliance between the Brown Robe and the Flying Dragons?” Marka marvelled.
“The Flying Dragons have bestowed a shower of gifts on my order, Marka. They have given us full access to their Universal Knowledge Banks. And they have given the Masters of Thunder permission to use Space Matrix, the phenomenal guidance system which they use when travelling through the spheres. But on one condition: that the Brown Robe will give its total and unconditional support to the White Eagles, and even share with them some of its most precious secrets. Had I not accepted immediately, the Flying Dragons would have thrown me out of their spheres.”
Marka was in awe, the glory of ancient worlds ablaze in her eyes, “This is quite a story!”
“Poetry in remoteness. It started aeons ago. And the Flying Dragons believe that one day the children of the White Eagle will fly to their spheres, and that an illumination of Love will follow. They call it the Flight of the Eagles.”
“And how are you going to find these White Eagles?”
“The Flying Dragons told me that Barkhan Seer, the mighty Master of Thunder, knows one of the White Eagles and will direct her to me.”
“Barkhan Seer! But doesn’t the legend say it has been more than six hundred years since he last incarnated in the kingdom?”
“He now lives in Highness, but this is not an obstacle for the Flying Dragons. They have already contacted him and arranged everything.”
“Gervin, you know what the wise people of Eisraim say about your teacher Orest? That he is not always easy to follow, but one never gets bored in his company. Well, this has become so true of you, my friend. Life with you is always eventful!”
Gervin’s eyes flared. Was this the right moment? Crossing the Fault of Eternity on his way back to the spheres of Melchisedek, he had promised himself that the first movement of his physical body would be to take Marka’s hand – an Atlantean way of asking her to marry him.
Gervin decided it was too early. He cared about Marka, the delicate soul, and did not want to be abrupt with her in any way, not even with the sweet abruptness of an untimely declaration of his love for her.
“Tell me, Marka, what has been happening in the kingdom since I left?”
“Not only good news, Gervin.”
Still smiling, Gervin replied with one of the sayings of Thunder, “Let us start with the worst!”
“Bobros, the giant who lives in the Valley of the Necromancer, has been terrorising the people who live in the forests of Nadavan. And he has destroyed all the crops and the cattle in the north of the county, killing many peasants.”
“Bobros, son of Bobros… The Nephilim giant has caused all this havoc?”
“But there is much worse. He has used the magic of the Valley of the Necromancer to manifest ancient dark forces and spread them like a plague in the forests of Nadavan. Thousands of trees have died, Gervin. The elves and the fairies who escaped Bobros’ black clouds have all fled from the county. If it continues like this, there will be nothing left of Nadavan. The entire area is becoming a desolate wasteland of dead wood and barren rocky ground. And two months ago, a plague broke out in Eisraim city, killing hundreds of people. It has created panic in all the cities of the neighbouring counties. It strikes people suddenly and causes violent fits of convulsions. And it kills them after a few hours of shivering in terror.”
“Has there been any outbreak of this pestilence in our temple?”
“No, not yet. But in the northern part of the county, around Eisraim city, it is spreading very fast.”
“What does Orest of the Brown Robe say?”
“Three weeks ago, the prince of Eisraim came to the temple in person for a meeting with Orest. The day after, Orest left for the forest of Nadavan, taking Ran Gereset, Esrevin and Melchard with him.”
“This sounds very serious! Have you heard from Orest since then?”
“Five days ago, he sent me a message saying he wanted you to join him as soon as possible. He is waiting for you with Esrevin and Ran Gereset at the ford of Erriba, in the northern part of Nadavan.”
“As soon as possible?” Gervin paused.
“Within reasonable limits, Gervin!” Marka quickly added. She knew what irresistible fire drove Gervin when it came to serving his master.
Reasonable limits and Thunder had never gone together well.
Gervin now knew for sure this was not the right moment to take Marka’s hand. “And what about you, my good Marka?” he inquired. “What has been happening to you in the last months?”
Marka’s eyes shone with the inspired Light of her angel. “Gervin, Gervin… something wonderful has happened. I have applied for the high priesthood of my order and received a favourable response from the oracle!”
“Are you going to become a high priestess of Malchasek?” Gervin’s eyes opened wider.
“Yes, Gervin!” she answered joyfully. “The first of the three vows has already been spoken.”
This meant she would never be married.
Gervin turned his head and bit his lip, thus breaking the promise he had made to himself with the Fault of Eternity as his witness.
Sensing his immense disappointment, Marka exclaimed, “Gervin, but… Do you mean…” In a second she understood. She was shattered.
Marka was a person of great humility. She looked up to Gervin as a shining warrior of the Spirit, destined for the highest functions in Eisraim. Despite his young age, he was already a famous healer, doctor of the Law, and a teacher of several occult arts. Three times, the prince of Eisraim had asked him to become one of his ministers. Each time Gervin had declined, preferring to serve his teacher Orest, the kingdom-famous Grand Master of Thunder whose rare public appearances attracted crowds of pilgrims. Never had Marka suspected that a man like Gervin, Orest’s heart disciple and close friend, could have wanted her. He was the most beautiful man she had ever met.
She looked at the fine, curly blond hair that had grown down to his shoulders while he was asleep, the noble beard she had trimmed a few days earlier, the high forehead of a man of the north, and the shining grey-green eyes which she had remembered every day of the last thirty-two weeks. Suddenly, his body was no longer that of a child under her care.
The beautiful light in her eyes dimmed, and she cried.
Devastated, Gervin didn’t know what to say. Marka had been his friend and confidant for more than four years. She had not only been a constant support but also a source of inspiration for him, and he had come to admire her so much that he had elected to give up his passion for celibacy, judging that her company would make him a better man. One hundred times in the last year he had nearly taken her hand. But he had wanted to be wise, and avoid rushing like a young fool in the Law, and choose the best possible moment. Now that he had lost her, he found it difficult to believe he could have been so stupid.
Marka was shocked by the cruel reality. “Would you have wanted me, Gervin?” she asked in an uncertain voice.
Gervin shrugged his shoulders. Her first vow had been spoken. It could not be withdrawn.
But certain things in life are too important to remain unspoken. Marka needed to hear it from him. “Gervin, please, answer me. Would you have wanted me?”
Drawing from the high fountain of Thunder, Gervin brought down an infinite softness into the room. “Marka, wise woman, let me tell you something that Orest taught me a few years ago, when he announced that he would initiate me as a Master of Thunder. He warned that during the nine months which separated me from the initiation, many alluring offers would be made to me, and a number of circumstances would concur to try and pull me away from my destiny in the Brown Robe. ‘Make no mistake,’ Orest said, ‘these are temptations coming from the Prince of Darkness.’ One week later I was approached by a representative of His Supreme Majesty the King of Atlantis, offering me a high office at the royal palace. This was only the beginning. At one stage the Prince of Darkness even sent one of his emissaries, Aphelion, to put a mind-boggling proposition to me,” Gervin paused, remembering the dreadful episode that had nearly cost him his life. “Marka, perhaps this is happening to you at the moment. I would hate to be the one sent to you by the Prince of Darkness to take you away from Malchasek.”
“Gervin, I promise I will never mention this again if you do not want me to. But, please! I need to hear this from you. Would you…” Marka hesitated.
“Of course I want you. I love you, Marka. I can’t imagine a better husband for you than Malchasek. But if it hadn’t been him, I would have been proud to take your hand.”
Please click here if you would like to read: Atlantean Secrets, Volume 1 – Sleeper Awaken!