Even if Calamus chose to speak of the event, but words would fail to describe it. The impossible geometries, spilling in and out of dimensions and planes. His hold on sanity was put to the test and there was a clear scare thereafter, but the experience imbedded the secret numerologies.
When Calamus was again able to find himself and possess form again, he found himself in a reality like and unlike the familiar. Between the first heaven and the second, yet a kingdom all it's own sat on high. Above it all was a throne unlike any other, one that showed dominion of the world, and in the midst of it was The Lightbearer and his congregation.
In exchange for reality, time became abstract and Calamus was unable to say if it were but a moment communicated or hours spent in conversation with these high beings.