Caelia and Mirelda: Veil Five
Where the Queen Walks in Silence
Caelia and Mirelda: The Book of Thresholds is a contemplative companion to The Sky-Veil—a series of symbolic veils rather than chapters, where Caelia bears the silent banner and Mirelda holds the glowing chalice. These are not steps in a journey, but moments of return.
The world beyond the Arch did not proclaim itself.
It revealed itself slowly—like the turning of a tapestry not yet fully unrolled. The path did not vanish, but it no longer guided. It waited. I had crossed; now I must walk as one who had.
Before me stretched a terrain of pale stone and velvet mist, where the wind moved with too much reverence to disturb. Hills rolled like breaths held long and exhaled only in peace. Trees stood not as sentinels, but as participants—rooted in silence, crowned with stillness.
This was no wilderness.
This was Hallowed Land.
And though no throne could be seen, I knew:
A Queen walks here.
She is not named. She is not seen.
But her presence governs the hush.
Each footfall felt heard. Not watched, not judged—heard. The way music hears its final note before it’s played. The way remembrance hears the name before it’s spoken.
I slowed.
I was not afraid.
But awe is not fear.
It is the soul remembering how small it must become to receive.
The banner within me pulsed gently, not to call attention, but to harmonize. The light I bore adjusted to the deeper quiet, as if kneeling in its own way.
And here, once more, the three made themselves known—not to instruct, but to withdraw into what they had revealed.
Aphrodite lingered as radiance along the stones—beauty not in bloom, but in stillness. The fullness of love resting after its long labor.
Athena was etched into the quiet geometry of the landscape—each curve, each rise, each placement of light and shadow formed by her unseen hand.
Hera, though unseen, was everywhere. The Queen who walks in silence does not declare her rule. Her reign is known by how nothing dares speak above a whisper. Not out of fear—but reverence.
And still, I walked.
I began to see that there were no signs, no maps, no choices in this land.
There was only alignment.
To move rightly here was to move in harmony with what already is. To force was to vanish. To yield was to belong.
And as I crested a hill of marble dust and memory, I saw them—figures not far, yet not near, cloaked in silken veils of dawn’s rosy light.
I did not rush.
I did not call out.
I knew they would not speak.
But in their presence, I would be given the next word to carry.
For this is the place where silence gives birth to command.
Where remembrance gives way to response.
And where the Queen walks unseen—yet all things move by the hush of her step.
Enjoy “Queen Hera (Thrones in the Mists)” from my album The Sky-Veil.
Lyrics ©Walter Emerson Adams. Music and vocals by Suno ©Walter Emerson Adams. Visit my music site for more.
Into the Lands Between The Sky-Veil’s air thinned down Its paths rose up unseen She of the Ox-Eyes and Crown “Your longing is not lost” Queen Hera, royal told Around her hills embossed Her throne in mists of gold Beyond her, sunlit pools A seat of might, cloud-bound In majesty, she rules She of the Ox-Eyes and Crown “It waits to be recalled” Queen Hera, august voiced The name and hope that’s trawled Ascending, heights rejoiced