Four times did the Horse of Troy violently bump against the threshold of the unconquerable gate, and four times did the clanging of armor echo within its monstrous metallic womb. However, the Trojans paid no heed and pressed on blindly, accursed by a God’s will.
Then the Prophetess Cassandra, possessed by the Divine Spirit, convulsively agitated, and with her hair in disorder opened her lips to foretell their tremendous doom. But Apollo had willed that these would be lips that the Trojans would never believe.
Oh Cassandra! You of marvelous prophesies, how horrible was your karma. With hair streaming, you were dragged in a cruel, pitiless, inhuman, and barbaric way, while in Priam’s palace the ferocious and sanguinary Acheans tore down the august towers, dismantled the venerable walls, and profaned everything with their homicidal bronze.
The sumptuous and splendid rooms of the royal house of the old King were inundated with cruel and pitiless soldiers.
Hecuba and her hundred women (wives of her sons) desperately ran as madwomen through the halls and corridors, and the elder King Priam’s blood polluted the sacred altar of the Holy Gods with a frightful purplish red.
It is written that when the Gods want to punish men, first they confuse them.
Useless was the damnation of the venerable monarch against Pyrrhus, for Pyrrhus then made his reply by lunging his cruel weapon at the respectable elder. While winding King Priam’s hair in his left hand, he slaughtered him next to the altar of Jupiter, father of Gods and men.
The fate of the beautiful Helen could have been horrendous if Venus, the Divine Mother Kundalini of Aeneas, had not stopped the right hand of her son.
She made herself visible and tangible before the Trojan hero, and filled with pain told him:
"O my son, what bitterness can have been enough to stir this wild anger in you? Why this raging passion? Where is all the love you used to have for me? Will you not first go and see where you have left your father, crippled with age, and find whether your wife Creusa is still alive, and your son Ascanius? The whole Greek army is prowling all around them and they would have been carried off by the flames or slashed by the swords of the enemy if my loving care were not defending them.
"It is not the hated beauty of the Spartan woman, the daughter of Tyndareus, that is overthrowing all this wealth and laying low the topmost towers of Troy, nor is it Paris although you all blame him, it is the Gods, the cruelty of the Gods. Look, for I shall tear away from all around you the dank cloud that veils your eyes and dulls your mortal vision."
After the uttering of these words by his Divine Mother Kundalini, She then passed Her adorable hand before the magnificent eyes of her son, Aeneas, the Trojan hero. Then before his rebel eagle sight, everything was transformed.
The warriors, the spears, the overthrowing weapons, generals and counselors, everything disappeared as if by magic, and replacing all of this, he saw something terribly divine: the dreadful vision of the bleeding Gods in all of their might, beating with their awful aegis the unconquerable walls of proud Ilium, and the walls falling with a great thundering, crash and roar.
Old traditions tell us that from the side of the sea the Trojan warrior could see the God Neptune loosening the foundations, making an enormous and profound gap with his great steel trident.
Everything before the eyes of the warrior was dreadful: thundering Jupiter himself throwing lighting bolts from Olympus, and Minerva, the Goddess of Wisdom, killing thousands of Trojan warriors with her implacable sceptre.
The adorable Divine Mother Kundalini of the Trojan Aeneas then said:
"Behold, it is Jupiter himself who is rousing us the Gods against the armies of Troy, everything is lost, such is the heavenly decree. Escape, my son, escape, with all haste. Put an end to your struggle; I shall not leave your side till I see you safely standing on the threshold of your father’s door."
It is stated that this Trojan paladin immediately obeyed his Divine Mother Kundalini and left his home, abandoning the royal doom.
When arriving at his home, he found a true apocalyptic drama: great weeping and lamentation. The head of the family, his elderly father, was complaining bitterly and refusing to leave his home in exile. Aeneas, in complete despair, rushed to take up his arms and once again rejoin the battle, in spite of the gentle, anguished request of his wife.
Fortunately, divine Jupiter, the Cosmic Christ, intervened by sending an extraordinary prodigy, bringing to him new hopes.
The sacred fire of the altar jumped, and a light began to stream from the top of the pointed cap of his son Lulus. The flame seemed to lick his soft hair and feed round his forehead without harming him, and when he wanted to quench the holy fire with lustral water, the grandfather of the child, the father of Aeneas, supreme head of the family, recognized the will of God, and raising his palms upward, lifted his voice in prayer. Then, a sudden peal of thunder rang out on the left. A star fell from the sky gliding over the topmost pinnacles of the house and buried itself, still bright, in the woods of Mount Ida.
The whole prodigy was definitive, so at last his old father—who refused to abandon his home (where he saw himself lingering for many long years)—was truly convinced and willing to go with the illustrious warrior, his grandson, and the whole family.
The legend of the centuries states that before abandoning Troy, the respectable father of Aeneas had to penetrate into the Temple of Ceres (the Cosmic Mother) in order to take with profound devotion and divine terror his Pennate Gods.
The heroic General Aeneas could not personally touch the sacred sculptures of the holy venerated Gods, since he had fought and killed many men. Only by purifying himself with the pure waters of life could he have the right to touch these terribly divine effigies.
A lethargy of innumerable centuries weigh upon the ancient mysteries. Nonetheless, the Pennate Gods continue to exist within the parallel universes.
The Hierophants can converse with these Pennate Gods, who are regents of cities, countries, towns, and homes, while in the supra-sensible worlds of the superior dimensions of space.
The blessed protector of a town is a Pennate God or holy Guardian Angel. The secret rector of any city is its special Deity. The Protector Spirit of any family is its spiritual director.
All of these Genii or mysterious “Jinns” of family, race, nation, tribe, or clan, certainly are the Pennate Gods of ancient times, who continue to exist in the Superior Worlds.
We have conversed many times with these Pennate Gods, regents of ancient classical cities. Some of them are suffering the unspeakable, paying terrible karmic debts.
Ulysses, who had been chosen to keep watch, was guarding the loot of bowls of solid gold, all the robes and treasures of Troy, etc., which they pillaged and were going to distribute among themselves. He could not see Aeneas the Trojan who shouted in the darkness of that tragic night, calling to his wife Creusa.
The will of the Holy Beings was fulfilled. Troy burned in a great holocaust, and Creusa died, but Aeneas, together with his elderly father, his son, and many people, escaped towards the lands of Lacinium, carrying the Pennate Gods.