Page 389 - Revelation
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Svetlana de Rohan-Levashova.   Revelation

            catholic  priests  (highly  likely  following  papal  orders)  secretly  collected  any
            information they could get – the shortest manuscript or any humble looking book –
            about the faith they hated so fiercely... They grabbed everything they could get by
            killing in order to study it secretly, as carefully as possible, to use any information they
            could comprehend to their advantage.

                  However they lied to people saying that all "heretical" books had been burned to
            the last sheet, because they brought the most dangerous teachings of the Devil.
                  Here was where the true records of the Cathars were kept!!! They were hidden in
            the den of the "holiest" Popes together with other "heretic" riches after their owners
            had been brutally killed. My hatred of the Pope grew stronger with every passing day,
            although, it seemed, it was impossible to hate even more strongly. Exactly now, on
            seeing these shameless lies and  cold  and  calculating violence, my  heart and  mind
            boiled with indignation! I could not think calmly, although once (it seemed a very long
            time ago!), when I had only got into cardinal Caraffa’s hands, I promised myself never
            to yield to emotions in order to survive. Well, I did not know then how terrible and
            merciless my fate would be... And now, despite confusion and indignation, I forced
            myself to summon my strength and come back to the story from the sad diary.





































                              Destruction of manuscripts of “heretics” - Qatar, philosophers, scientists ...
                  Esclarmonde’s voice was very quiet, soft and infinitely sad! But at the same time
            it was full of unbelievable resolution. I did not know her, this woman (or girl), but
            something very familiar was in her resolution, fragility and doom. I understood what
            it was. She resembled my daughter – my dear brave Anna!

                  Suddenly I felt an irresistable wish to see this strong and sad stranger. I tried to
            tune in. My reality disappeared, giving way to extraordinary images which came to me
            from her distant past.
                  Right in front of me I saw a poorly lit, enormous ancient hall and an exhausted

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