Qutulun

Roaming the astral realms, I see her. Sure enough... I was Qutulun. But why this life of violence and warfare? Am I not an old and evolved soul? The answer lies, perhaps, in the concept of the seven Rays, the aspects of Source that every soul posseses, but the emphasis varying from person to person. In the Ascended Masters we are familiar with, the emphasis tends to be on the second and third rays of scholars, sages and teachers, so that is what we expect from evolved souls. The critical quality of a lightworker in the Ascension process, however, is the ability to maintain composure under all circumstances, however distressing. As such they are the anchor points in the collective field that makes the Ascension plan fail safe. That's where the first Ray of leaders, warriors and pioneers comes in, those party poopers and unapetizing individuals that will never relax and always have a next battle to fight or challenge to overcome. Because their Higher Self, their representation of Source, makes it so. Even in this advanced stage of the Ascension process they're deeply mired in challenges for the good of their soul's evolution. There's no letting up. I even begin to understand why I hate getting up early in the morning (not counting my 5 am excursions, which are quite relaxed).
On the battlefield half past five is prime time, just because people aren't at their peak at that time and all warring sides try to take advantage of that. Half past five is also when the rhythmic stability of the heart is at its low point and why so many heart attacks occur at that time. I put that down to the morphogenic wave of energy that sweeps across the Earth between 5 am and half past five, which has a rejuvenating effect, but also downsides, apparently. One of the hardest things in my life at Qutulun was getting on my horse before day break and gallop into a war zone, adrenaline pumping and leading the charge, while seemingly moments ago in a warm bed.

The Galactics that surround and guide lightworkers can't connect to my Mongolian heritage because they too are beings of the second and third Rays, to whom aligning with Source is all and everything, kind of implying passivity.

The most practical reason why I, as Qutulun, waged war, was of a common theme in my soul history, and what many people will recognize: the fear of losing loved ones, in my case, my father. If his reign was secure, then he was secure and so I felt I had to fight for his political and military interests.

And then there is polarity, the conflicts and challenges that humanity needed to evolve and arrive at this point in the Ascension process. One thing about being of the first Ray is that you tend to try to hard and do to much, for the benefit of humanity. This has actually and practically led to annulment of polarity that humanity needed and as such stymied its evolution to some degree, and even in this lifetime, loading me with karmic debt. Then I will speculate that the karmic necessity to restore polarity partly explains my rather extensive military background.

My knowing of this lifetime may be a bit of a paradigm shift with other lifetimes written about on this site, in that it doesn't seem to have any major traumas. As the Ascension frequencies rise, past life trauma is pushed to the surface and that's why the most traumatic lifetimes come to the fore first, in my conscious rememberance. Certainly, my childhood as Qutulun wasn't easy, a child subjected to military training, with 14 (some say 18, or more) brothers treating my as the beating girl of the family, something I never truly forgave them for, and later in life, as my "star rose", they would happily and joyously recount stories about the "pranks" and unfair treatment they subjected me to. All the same, I don't recall this lifetime as traumatic.
In one of the first "memories" (which are, if I understand correctly are simply entries into the Akashic Records that I accessed, while in the astral) I'm descending into a large bath tube, very similar to an above ground garden frame pool, but made of wood and as tall as a person, which my servants (after all, I was a princess), had filled with warm water. This was my recovery time after a grueling day of battlefield skirmishes. The discretion of the Akashic Records stands out: no sensitive parts of my body come into view, just what you'd see on the beach. I have a typical Asian female build, which a broad pelvis and powerful, well-rounded upper-leg muscles.
Another thing that has become quite clear to me during the past days of past life exploration, that, like during my Atali lifetime, I engaged in Sapphic experiences and that the "prenuptial wrestling matches" were a hoax, in that I never intended to marry, but that I simply loved to fight. Not very nice, perhaps, particularly because it seems to me that these were street fights, the Bruce Lee way, aimed at wearing down the opponent by pain and injury, rather than a rule-based sports match. This has to be seen in the light of my Egyptian incarnation in which I was groomed, from childhood on, not to resist sexual male avances. Then the Qutulun lifetime might represent an (over?)-reaction to that.

The "wrestling matches" solved the major political problem of a non-marrying woman, in that the battered men simply "weren't good enough". This changed one day, on which I psychically scanned my opponent before the match. In all my female incarnations I have certain psychic abilities, which as Qutulun I used to scrutinize the mental state of opponents, also on the battlefield, before and during battles. There, on a few occasions, we had come across individuals with unlikely capabilities, otherworldly strong and insensitive to pain. I don't know how we interpreted that, but with the knowledge of today I'd say these were synthetic beings, like the Beserker in my Banduri lifetime. The new wrestling opponent had the same psychic characteristics as the synthetic super soldiers, and I knew I was in big trouble as now, not my marital status but my life was in jeopardy. I felt I couldn't fight this individual without weapons, but refusing the fight was a political impossibility. I discussed the issue with my brothers and in their usual unyielding way they concluded I should simply fight the being. I will spare you the details, but I incapacitated my opponent very quickly, resulting in the crowd complaining they had travelled long to see a fight that was over in seconds and done in an unsportsmanlike way. Emotions flared, as well as long-suppressed sexist sentiments and as some men started to move towards me, my brothers gathered around me, the first time ever that I experienced their support, which deeply moved me. Then the gaze of some of the disgruntled men turned to the being, that, while disabled, still tried to fight and behaved so strangely that some men inquired with my brothers about this and while they explained what they thought this being was, and the word got around, the crowd calmed down and people started to prepare for their way home.

It's very strange to realize that I was such a good fighter in a previous lifetime, because in my current lifetime I hardly bust a grape, although according to my foil-fencing coach I was a natural talent at that, which I put down to my Banduri lifetime.

For some reason, the two instances in which I can discern my voice during a past life remembrance is when I address or command the troops. Firstly, when I command the space fleet with which the Draco reptilians forced me to lead an assault on a race of highly developed and benevolent spiders (as detailed on my Atali page) and secondly, when I address a large number of horse-mounted men, as Qutulun. I don't speak a word Mongolian, but I can tell my accent is poche, my speech articulated and spoken with confidence and flair, a bit like English nobility. My voice is feminine enough to be socially acceptable, but low enough to carry a distance.
If I take away anything from that lifetime, it's a sense of self-satisfaction (at that time). I will stop short of calling it conceit, because I was very concerned with the safety of the troops and caring towards my servants.
The first time I entered a battlezone on horseback, not so much to fight but to observe and experience, I must have been very young, and I was profoundly shocked by seeing men on horseback being pierced and receiving mortal wounds. I felt like crying, and was keenly aware of being a coconspirator in this drama by birth, by being a member of a lineage intertwined with power structures and their violent enforcement.

The legend of Qutulun has been likely based upon the military aspect of her lifetime, but what makes her life very dear to me is the contrast between that and her sensitive side, which is inherent to my soul. I will illustrate this, beginning with the first long and hard military campaign I was involved in, in which logistics precluded any luxuries a princess wearthy, such as a large bathtub or any servants in tow. The troops and officers, most of which had had a grassland plains upbringing, were better able to withstand the barren conditions than I was, also because inevitably I was an outsider within their ranks and quite lonely as such. I could kick ass with the best of them, but not, and by no means, share my innermost stirrings. The cold at night became unbearable, without an external heat source (that I can recall) and too tired to warm my bed from the inside out. Before my next campaign I demanded that I would be allowed to take my friend with me, who was my girlfriend, actually. We had made several trips on horseback together and I thought she would be a strong enough rider (and archer) to be able to keep up. I had to seriously put my foot down for this to go through, but it made all the difference and when the men saw how it affected my performance on the battlefield they started to accept her presence. The contrast with my state of being during the previous campaign was such that I felt as we were on a honeymoon, which fizzled out towards the end of the campaign, when she, while still physically coping, became unsettled and shaken by the intensity and brutality of warfare, which she had witnessed from the fringes and when during and after a battle the wounded started to come in. She would not join me on my next campaign, but by then I had sufficiently acclimated to the conditions.

While still in our honeymoon, experiencing how I depended on her emotionally, she would tease me with comments like "you are such a softy" and had a term of endearment for me along those lines. Several years older, you could say that in some ways she was the senior in our relationship and was very drawn to me sensually, bordering a benevolent obsession. Intimacy was very complicated within the travelling encampment, so at one time we left for a nearby patch of forest, but at some point I became intuitively (psychically) aware of the presence of a being much like the Beserker in my Banduri lifetime. That being showed up when I was in the women-only environment of the convent where my father had sent me and I have a strong sense (and speculate) that these synthetic beings psychically home in on female sexual energy, as sexual violence is part of their core business. I told my girlfriend to shoot every arrow she had into the being that was coming and as I frantically did the same, he collapsed before he could reach us and I could finish it with my sword. That marked the end of our little trips outside of the camp.

Whether you could say I was a show-off or that there was an actual need for me to prove myself, I reckoned that I should take the being with me as a trophy, so I attached him to my saddle in the way I did while kidnapping an officer during battle. I had a tool for that, a brass or bronze fingerless glove with a hook on the inside, which I used to hook into the clothing or gear on the backside of a person and then hook the "glove" onto my saddle. Then I had one arm free to restrain the abductee. This was an art rather than a science, often resulting in both of us ending up on the ground where my wrestling skills served me well.

In my mind's eye, and connected to this past life, I see a humongous building, as tall as a sky scraper and several times wider than high. It is situated on a plain, without any additional buildings in view. In the background some hills or mountains. This building is so much bigger than today's largest structures, I can't begin to estimate how many of today's big buildings would fit inside. The building is rectangular in shape. A small part of the roof, near the walls, is slanted, inside the four slanted parts the roof is flat. The ornamental details around the windows and roof are classic Asian, the color scheme is warm, mostly brown and orange. Is this Tartarian?

Qutulun

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