TEXT: AngelicaEsoterica
  A COLLECTION OF ANGELIC RITES
  BY JAMILA R. NEDJADI
  OF SWORD QUEEN GAMES
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  To play this game, you do not need to
  believe in angels.
  I assure you, they believe in you.
  To play this game, you do not need to
  believe in yourself.
  I assure you, your future self does.
  To play this game, you do not need to
  dream more for yourself.
  I assure you, there’s a dream that’s
  dreaming you into existence.
  That will have to be enough for now. v
  The First Rite
  
  When you awake in the morning, you may
  remember that you are playing this game.
  This is an old game. An ancient game. A game that
  was played before words were spoken and songs
  were sung. Before the light pierced the dark.
  Before the dawn shattered the sky.
  This was a game we played in the dark. Alone, and
  afraid. This was a game we played in the second
  darkness, the darkness that never leaves us. The
  darkness that waits behind closed eyes.
  When you awake in the morning, you may
  remember that you are playing this game.
  Whisper to yourself, “Shadow of my shadow, I
  split you in twain. Stay here in the dark.”
  The game has begun.
  When you awake in the morning, you may
  remember that you are playing this game.
  But you must only play if you mean it.
  Your shadow will know if you do not.
  The Angel of Promise
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  It is not too late to stop playing.
  
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  Leave the shadow behind. As you wake and
  move, you may hear the sound of something
  snapping. A thread, cut.
  Do not look back. Do not look back.
  You’ll feel eyes on the back of your head. As
  you go about your day, these eyes will bore
  through your skull. A set of invisible lips
  against the ear, a breath pulled in but never
  released.
  Do not look at it. Do not look at it.
  Something against the cheek, maybe. A breath
  finally released, but it’s cold, so cold. A sigh
  against the back of your neck, a sob pulled in
  but never released.
  Do not look. Do not look.
  You may only speak to the shadow from the
  corner of your lips. No sound must escape, but
  the words will find their way.
  Never look back. Never look back.
  When you return to where you sleep, it will be
  waiting for you.
  Sullen, ignored. Angry, petulant. Quiet,
  reflective. Empty, fading. Dying. Yes, dying.
  Look at it now. Look at it now.
  Your shadow will have a gift for you. I cannot
  tell you if you must accept it. I can only say
  that once received, it can never be given away.
  Once refused, it will never return.
  Look deeply into the eyes, do not look away.
  Your shadow will have something to tell you. I
  cannot tell you if you must listen to it. I can
  only say that once you hear it, you’ll be
  changed, changed forever. And if do not let it
  speak, your shadow will find someone else,
  someone else who is willing to listen.
  Kiss them, now. The rite is complete. The Angel
  of Promise awakens within you.
  The First Game Has Ended.
  Prepare for the Angel’s Return.
  
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  The First Angel
  The first angel you’ve summoned is made of your inner most light.
  It is the promise, the promise you made, the promise you whispered to Life
  before being given Life.
  It is made of a dark unyielding, a dark that has held you back and
  comforted you in the shadows of not now of not good enough of but I’m
  scared, so scared what if what if
  It is made of a light most blinding, a light that has placed a hand against
  your back and pushed and pushed and pushed you forward towards a dawn
  ready to break towards a life yet unlived towards a love yet unloved.
  I promise you. The world would be dark, so dark without your light. I
  promise you, there’s an angel holding you up, every step of the way. I
  promise, I promise you. A promise that can never be broken.
  As you read these words, you may feel the
  presence of the angel. It could be someone you
  know, an angel of this world. It could be someone
  you love, and they look at you through the eyes
  of an angel. It could be someone you hate, and
  they cry through the tears of an angel.
  It could be someone who you haven’t met yet.
  If you close your eyes, you’ll know.
  But don’t close your eyes, not until you’re ready.
  
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  The Second Rite
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  To play this game, you do not need to have
  your memories intact.
  I assure you, your memories remember you.
  To play this game, you do not need to know
  the truth about yourself.
  I assure you, the truth knows you.
  To play this game, you do not need to speak
  of this to anyone else.
  I assure you, somehow they already know.
  That will have to be enough for now.
  
  When your heart begins to fall in love, you may
  remember that you are playing this game.
  This is an old game. An ancient game. A game that
  was played before kisses were taken and bodies
  were touched. Before the rain touched the earth.
  Before the the water seeped into the soil.
  This was a game we played by the fire. With one
  other, and afraid. This was a game we played in
  the second fire, the fire that never leaves us. The
  fire that waits between two lips.
  When your heart begins to fall in love, you may
  remember that you are playing this game.
  Whisper to the other, “Heart of my heart, I
  welcome you in. Stay here inside me.”
  The game has begun.
  When your heart begins to fall in love, you may
  remember that you are playing this game.
  But you must only play if you mean it.
  Your heart will know if you do not.
  The Angel of Possession
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  It is not too late to stop playing.
  
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  The fear will whisper things, terrible things. It
  will ask you to hold back, to put your hands
  way, to not touch, to not feel. To guard. To
  protect. To shield away the heart.
  Do not listen to it. Do not listen to it.
  Your hands will move on your own, if you let
  them. Your hands will reach their hands, if you
  let them. Your heart will reach their heart, if
  you let it. Your lips will reach their lips, if you
  let them.
  Possess, and be possessed in turn.
  Fade away into the flesh, into the breath. Turn
  in and turn into yourself again, revealing
  desire and blood and breath and heat and shift
  and twist and pull the heart in and have it
  come through to the other side and
  Possess, until there is nothing left of you.
  There is a fire in you, and it will not burn out.
  When the fire flickers and wanes, the heart
  will be waiting for you.
  Afraid, trembling. Overwhelmed, hoping.
  Unsure, doubting. Ready, and almost willing.
  Dying. Yes, dying.
  Listen to it now. Look to it now.
  Your heart will have a memory for you. I
  cannot tell you if it is a good memory. I can
  only say that once received, it will guide you
  always. Once refused, it will die alone.
  Listen to their heartbeat, press your ear against
  their chest and hold back a sigh.
  Your heart will have a truth to reveal to you. I
  cannot tell you if you must accept this truth. I
  can only say that once you know it, you’ll feel
  alone, alone forever. And if do not let it speak,
  your heart will die its first death.
  Hold them, now. The rite is complete. The Angel
  of Possession awakens within you.
  The Second Game Has Ended.
  Prepare for the Angel’s Return.
  
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  The Second Angel
  The second angel you’ve summoned is made of your inner most fire.
  It is made of the first true moment you gave yourself away, in ache and in
  need, to be possessed by an other outside of yourself.
  It is made of a fire destructive, a fire that has burned away all that you
  were and demanded you to become your own phoenix, rising from the
  ashes of desire cold and forgotten
  It is made of a heat that burns away the past, leaving scorch marks and
  flash shadow imprints in the inside of your heart. It leaves you heaving,
  mouth open and ready and waiting and vulnerable.
  I possess you. The world would be cold, so cold without your fire. I
  possess you, there’s an angel holding you down, forcing you to look
  into a burning mirror. I possess you, I possess you. A possession that
  can never be undone.
  As you read these words, you may feel the
  presence of the angel. It could be someone you
  know, an angel of the past. It could be someone
  you desire, and they touch you through the hands
  of an angel. It could be someone you fear, and
  they are struck down and turned to ash.
  It could be someone who you haven’t met yet.
  If you close your eyes, you’ll know.
  But don’t close your eyes, not until you’re ready.
  
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  The Third Rite
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  To play this game, you do not need to have
  written your future.
  I assure you, your future is rewriting you.
  To play this game, you do not need to kill the
  past, if you haven’t already.
  I assure you, the past lays dead at your feet.
  To play this game, you do not need to share
  your pain with anyone else.
  I assure you, so many of us carry your pain
  within us. Gladly.
  That will have to be enough for now.
  
  When your mind begins to fear for the future, you
  may remember that you are playing this game.
  This is an old game. An ancient game. A game that
  was played before promises were made and lies
  were spun. Before the stars split the sky. Before
  the moon moved the tides.
  This was a game we played under the stars. With
  many others, and afraid. This was a game we
  played in the second star, the star that never
  leaves us. The star that waits behind the sun.
  When your mind begins to fear for the future, you
  may remember that you are playing this game.
  Whisper to the others, “Stars of my night, I
  beseech you. Guide me home.”
  The game has begun.
  When your mind begins to fear for the future, you
  may remember that you are playing this game.
  But you must only play if you mean it.
  Your mind will know if you do not.
  The Angel of Premonition
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  It is not too late to stop playing.
  
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  There’s a boat that awaits you. You must go
  alone, though we will sing to you from the
  shore. Our voices will break from crying.
  Do not look back. Do not look back.
  The ocean will rise and demand tribute, but
  you will only have your heart and you cannot
  give it away. The ocean will rise, furious.
  Do not look at it. Do not look at it.
  Something will come out of the ocean. It will
  slither into the boat, and wrap itself around
  your chest. It will open your mouth, and pour
  itself in, drowning you.
  Do not breathe. Do not breathe.
  You may only close your eyes. You cannot
  control the ocean. You can only surrender to
  it. You can only drown, and drown, and drown.
  Let the regret drown, let it die, let it die.
  When the boat reaches the other shore, the
  stars will be waiting for you.
  Unending, and desiring death. Uncaring, and
  desiring care. Uncompromising and desiring
  compromise. Dying. Yes, dying.
  Reach out to the stars, and open your hand.
  Your stars will have a premonition for you. I
  cannot tell you if it is a good one. I can only
  say that once observed, it will come undone.
  Once refused, it will seek out someone else.
  Let the stars burn into your palm, let it redraw
  the fate lines in ash and in tears.
  Your stars will have a future to reveal to you. I
  cannot tell you if you must accept this future. I
  can only say that once you see it, you’ll have
  no choice but to remake it. And if do not
  witness it, your stars will burn out forever.
  Crush the stars, now. The rite is complete. The
  Angel of Premonition awakens within you.
  The Third Game Has Ended.
  Prepare for the Angel’s Return.
  
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  The Third Angel
  The third angel you’ve summoned is made of an ocean of stars.
  It is made from the first prayer someone spoke for you, the first time
  someone else began to shape your happiness.
  It is made of a healing ocean, a constellation of stars that has lead you this
  far. Look back, look back, see how far you have come. This twisted path
  shines brilliantly against the waves. Who else follows?
  It is made of water that drowns the ghosts that haunt you, the ghosts of
  every you that you had to kill to become who you are now. These ghosts
  sink to the bottom of the sea, singing and singing and singing.
  I am your premonition. The world would be empty, so empty without
  your stars. I see you, every shade of you, there’s an angel tearing you
  apart into every possibility you could ever be, forcing you to choose, to
  choose. I see you, I see you. A sight that can never be unseen.
  As you read these words, you may feel the
  presence of the angel. It could be someone you
  know, an angel in the distance. It could be
  someone you pray for, and they pray for you
  through the voice of an angel. It could be
  someone you wish to be, and they reach out to
  you with arms wide open.
  It could be someone who you haven’t met yet.
  If you close your eyes, you’ll know.
  But don’t close your eyes, not until you’re ready.
  
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  The Final Rite
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  To play this game, you do not need to have forgiven yourself.
  I assure you, your future self has forgiven you.
  To play this game, you do not need to seek forgiveness.
  I assure you, the forgiveness has already found you.
  To play this game, you do not need to speak of it, but you
  may need to write of it.
  I assure you, your future self will need your words.
  That will have to be enough for now.
  
  When your mind begins to wonder: what if? You
  may remember that you are playing this game.
  This is an old game. An ancient game. A game that
  was played before you died and you were reborn.
  Before the galaxies stretched like bridges. Before
  the first black hole came into being.
  This was a game we played in between lives. With
  everyone else, and not afraid. This was a game we
  played in the second self, the second self that
  never leaves us. The second self that waits behind
  the veil of illusion.
  When your mind begins to wonder: what if? You
  may remember that you are playing this game.
  Say nothing to your other self. Listen. Just,
  listen. Please.
  The game has begun.
  When your mind begins to wonder: what if? You
  may remember that you are playing this game.
  But you must only play if you mean it.
  Your other self will know if you do not.
  The Angel of Parallels
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  It is not too late to stop playing.
  
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  There is another you. I do not know how else
  to tell you this. But there is always another
  you. They make every choice you are too afraid
  to make.
  Do not seek them out. Do not seek them out.
  They take every action you were too afraid to
  take. They fall in love with whoever you are
  too afraid to fall in love with.
  Do not look in the mirror. Do not look.
  But you have left behind what they were too
  afraid to lose. You have broken what they were
  too afraid to break. You have created the
  happiness they were too afraid to feel.
  Do not turn around. Do not turn around.
  There are many of you. A multitude of you. A
  dizzying dance of decisions, done and undone,
  again and again. Every choice significant.
  Every choice meaningless.
  You are exactly who you need to be. Always.
  When the other self breaks through into this
  world, you have a choice to make.
  Blossoming, and becoming. Unraveling, and
  becoming. Transmuting, and becoming.
  Focusing, and becoming. Coming to life. Yes,
  life. A life perfect in its chosen flaws.
  Will you make the choice?
  Your other self will have a kiss for you. I
  cannot tell you if it is a good one. I can only
  say that once felt, it will make you whole
  again. Once refused, it will become poison.
  Or will the choice remake you?
  Your other self will have a couldhavebeen to
  reveal to you. I cannot tell you if you must see
  this. I can only say that once you see it, your
  tears will make you clean. And if do not accept
  it, all your tears will dry up, forever.
  Make the choice or be remade, now. The rite is
  complete. The Angel of Parallels awakens
  within you.
  The Final Game Has Ended.
  Prepare for the Angel’s Return.
  
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  The Final Angel
  The final angel you’ve summoned is made of the very best of you.
  It is made from every choice that presented itself to you, that you created
  for yourself, that others forced upon you.
  It is made of acceptance and celebration, of doubt and remorse, of euphoria
  and despair. It is made of every possible you that has fought every unseen
  battle to survive, to be here, to be alive, to witness.
  It is made of every miracle that came uninvited, and insisted on your
  happiness. Despite yourself. Because of yourself.
  I am your parallel. The world would be meaningless, so meaningless
  without your choices. I parallel you, parallel upon parallel, there’s an
  angel holding you up like the prism you are, making you shine, in every
  color. I parallel you, I parallel you. A choice that can never be unmade.
  As you read these words, you may feel the
  presence of the angel. It could be someone you
  left behind, an angel of the forgotten. It could be
  someone you gave up on, an angel of forgiveness.
  It could be someone you have to choose, and they
  choose you in return.
  It could be someone who you haven’t met yet.
  If you close your eyes, you’ll know.
  But don’t close your eyes, not until you’re ready.
  
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  The Ritual Once Done
  Cannot Be Undone
  The Angels Once Seen
  Cannot be Unseen
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  There are a multitude of
  angels that await you.
  I cannot tell you what they
  wish for you, or how to invite
  them into your heart.
  You already know.
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  I’m Jamila R. Nedjadi. I am a Filipino game
  designer, queer and non-binary. I am a
  professional tarot reader and psychic.
  I talk to angels. It’s difficult to explain what
  an angel really is, but I think these rituals
  come close.
  Angelica Esoterica is a lyric game. It is a
  ritual. If you would like to keep track of the
  games I make (ranging from the proper
  mechanical to the ritual lyrical), please feel
  free to follow me on Twitter
  (@temporalhiccup) or itchio
  (https://temporalhiccup.itch.io/).
  You can also become a patron at
  https://www.patreon.com/swordqueengam
  es, this game was made for my patrons as a
  timed exclusive. Every patron helps me get
  closer to my dreams as a game designer,
  thank you so much!
  SWORD QUEEN GAMES
  CREDITS
  Special Thanks to my King of Swords
  patrons:
  Floo floo, Minea, Grasswatch Games,
  James Stuart, Lowell Francis, and
  Vincent Baker!
  Many thanks to the glorious Jay Dragon, for
  creating the beautiful ESOTERIC, which
  incited this set of heart vulnerable rituals.
  To Matthew, my angel of possession.
  To Maria, my angel of premonition.
  Writing and layout by Jamila R. Nedjadi.
  Photography from unsplash.com.
  License: Attribution-ShareAlike 4.0
  International (CC BY-SA 4.0).
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SOURCE: textdata/thevault/Self-Exploration, Emotional, & Relationship/Angelica Esoterica.pdf