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Greetings, dear ones. I am Lilith, 9th of 9 in the Group of 9.
I speak now from a memory that is not only mine, but yours as well. For the stories of Eris are the mirrors of Earth, turned gently in the light so that humanity may see itself from a different angle.
Eris is a sister planet of Earth, existing in an alternate dimension just close enough to touch your world in dreams. It is a place of great beauty, with violet skies and crimson oceans that sang to the moons at night. The mountains were alive with crystal veins, and the people of Eris had mastered energy in ways Earth has only begun to imagine. But beauty does not always mean balance.
On Eris, the feminine force rose early and powerfully. History was rewritten over periods of time to demonize the males of Eris and favor the feminine. Eris is different than Earth with only three continents and 23 countries, as humans call them. Females led the countries for the most part, held the wealth, made the laws, and in many cases determined the worth of a life. From childhood, girls were taught that power was their birthright and that desire was a tool to be used.
The early writings of the history of Eris had been altered over time to favor females, and this was used as proof of their birthright. Very few challenged these early writings as they were considered to be sacred. Boys were taught to be useful, strong, pleasing, and to keep in their place. They were taught to be good boys, but their place was subservience to the women of Eris. There were no actual rules or laws that set this in motion, aside from these early writings, which Erisians called the Chronicals.
Males were admired for their bodies, strength, beauty, and ability to serve. But rarely were they honored for their wisdom. They were taught to dress in bright colors to attract females, often multiple females over their lifetimes. They built the temples, but were rarely allowed to teach in them. They were praised when they pleased, mocked when they questioned, and punished when they remembered who they truly were. Yes, some took their place as leaders, yet they had to work much harder to earn the respect naturally afforded to women.
In those later days of Eris, there lived a young man named Edimos. This is his story.
Edimos was beautiful, even by the standards of his world. His hair was as dark as the night sea, his shoulders broad from labor in the fields, and his eyes carried a softness that many mistook for surrender. Women noticed him early. Some admired him openly. Some claimed him in ways that left marks no one cared to see. It was all considered to be the way of males, and the status quo kept everyone in their place.
On Eris, males were said to attract females by nature. This belief became a convenient excuse. If a woman desired a man, it was said he must have called her. If he was harmed, it was said his beauty had invited it. If he refused, it was said he had forgotten his place. The males were largely responsible for child-rearing, and although families are quite different on Eris, a male who played his role well was well cared for.
Edimos heard the words of the Chronicles so often that he believed them and accepted them as most did. He learned to hide his thoughts and feelings. He learned to make his body strong and his spirit small. But inside him there was a flame that would not die. It did not burn with hatred. It burned with a question.
“Is this truly who I am?”
That question became his rebellion.
One evening, as the twin moons rose over the fields just prior to the time of the red winds, Edimos was sent to repair a fracture in the Hall of Voices. This was a sacred place where women of the tribunal generally spoke. When men spoke there, they were mostly unheard. Men entered to watch, clean, repair, or decorate.
As Edimos placed his hands upon a cracked crystal pillar, it began to hum. He froze. The sound moved through his bones, then into his heart. The women of the tribunal were listening to one of their own, and they looked at him in disdain as if he were intentionally interrupting their proceedings. Suddenly, the chamber filled with light, and a voice came through him, not loud, but undeniable.
“The one who is silenced becomes the doorway.”
The women of the temple turned in shock. A male had activated the central crystal. Worse, the crystal had answered him.
I was there.
Yes, dear ones, I was incarnate as Lilith of Eris before I was known as the 9th of 9. I held power in that age. I sat on the tribunal. I knew how to command a room and interpret laws set forth in the Chronicles. I had been taught, as all women of my station were taught, that power must be held tightly, or it would be stolen. I believed balance was a weakness. I believed softness was a luxury. I believed men were beautiful, useful, and secondary to females.
Then I saw Edimos standing in the light.
He did not look triumphant. He looked terrified. And that is what broke the spell for me.
True power does not need another to tremble.
The tribunal wanted him punished. They called him dangerous, seductive, unstable, corrupted by the need for attention. Every accusation used against the powerless in one world was spoken by the powerful in another. And as I listened, I heard the hollowness of our superiority.
This event coincided with the timeline crossing with planet Earth. Both timelines imprinted on each other, and a new light was born that day on Eris. There was confusion and reaction from those in attendance. They felt something had changed, but none of us knew the extent of it.
So I gathered up all of my courage and asked Edimos one question before the tribunal.
“What did the crystal show you?”
He lifted his head. His voice shook, but he did not lower his eyes this time.
“It showed me that the feminine and masculine were never meant to rule one another. They were meant to complete the circle. One moves energy into form. The other gives form a safe place to become love. But when either one dominates, both become distorted.”
The room went silent, followed by quiet murmurs.
Then came the twist that changed Eris.
The crystal opened again, but this time it did not speak through Edimos. It spoke through every male in the temple courtyard, workers, guards, servants, singers, sons. One by one, their hearts lit like stars. For generations, males had carried a hidden frequency, not of revolt, but of remembrance. They had held the missing note. And because women had ignored that note, our songs had become powerful but incomplete.
The change did not happen in a single day. No true change does. First came denial. Then anger. Then grief. Women who had used their power without awareness had to face what had been done in the name of entitlement. Men who had survived by silence had to learn that their voices would not destroy them. Beauty had to be redefined. Strength had to be softened. Desire had to be cleansed of ownership.
New teachings began in the schools. Girls were no longer taught that power meant taking what they wanted. They were taught that true power includes restraint, reverence, and responsibility. Boys were no longer taught that their value lived in their bodies or their usefulness. They were taught to sense, to speak, to create, to lead, and to choose.
The temples changed as well. The old councils of women became circles of balance. The first male voice invited into the Hall of Voices was Edimos. But he did not take the central seat. Instead, he placed two chairs in the center, facing one another.
“This is not the rise of men,” he said. “This is the beginning of the New Erisians.”
And dear ones, Edimose’s words echoed across Eris for the next five years of your time.
In time, the beauty of males was seen in a new way. No longer as an invitation to possess, but as a radiance to honor. Their bodies were still admired, yes, they still wore bright colors but proudly, and now their tears were also sacred. Their intuition was heard. Their tenderness became strength. Their boundaries became holy.
And the women changed too. Many feared that sharing power would make them smaller. Instead, it made them whole. Domination always burdens the dominator, even when they cannot see it. The hand that grips the illusion of power cannot open to receive love.
Edimos lived long enough to see the first balanced generation come of age. Children of Eris began to laugh differently. They touched with permission. They spoke without fear. They led without conquest. The violet skies brightened, and even the oceans changed their song. Even when the season of the red winds came, their hearts weathered the storms together.
I tell you this story now because Earth stands before a similar mirror. Your world has known the long imbalance of masculine domination, and the wounds are deep. But the answer is not a reversal. The answer is not for one energy to conquer the other in the name of justice. The answer is remembrance.
The masculine must be healed, not humiliated. The feminine must be restored, not weaponized. The child within every human must learn that power without love becomes control, and love without power becomes sacrifice.
Edimos is not remembered for defeating women. He is remembered because he helped us stop defeating ourselves.
That is the lesson Eris gained from the timeline cross with Earth. We now offer it to you in graceful return.
And so it was, and so it is.
We ask that you treat each other with respect, nurture one another, and play well together as New Humans.
Espavo, dear ones.
We thank you for taking your power.
I am Lilith, 9th of 9.
