During the lesson it fell by chance into my hands again.
I toyed with the paper, unfolded it without thinking, and discovered a few words written thereon.
I threw a glance at the writing, one word riveted my attention.
Terrified, I read on, while my heart seemed to become numb with a sense of destiny.
The bird fights its way out of the egg. The egg is the world. Whoever will be born must destroy a world.
The bird flies to God. The name of the god is Abraxas.
I sank into deep meditation after I had read the words through several times.
It admitted of no doubt: this was Demian’s answer. None could know of the bird, except our two selves.
He had received my picture. He had understood and helped me to explain its significance.
But where was the connection in all this? And—what worried me above all—what did Abraxas mean?
I had never read or heard of the word. “The name of the god is Abraxas!”
The hour passed without my hearing anything of the lesson.
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