“All men who face the darkness are heroes. Those who stand against the evil that breeds within them are as heroic as the men who slay monsters. It is what makes men special, to look into the eyes of fear and master it. You must do this if you are to become what destiny requires. Do it now Nastas. Do it for your kin, do it for our people, do it for all that have come before and all that come. Do this and you will stand above all men.”
The lust of the darkness wanted his soul, his power. He was the champion of that power, the only remaining link to mans birthright, to magic. He would not get another chance. It was now. He dug deep within himself and as though there was a key in his mind's eye he turned it. It was a herculean task, every ounce of his focus and strength were needed. All the while the darkness crept, lurking and closing in about him. He sensed the icy chill of its breath upon him. Fright riddled his hands as panic struck at his mind. He’d turned the key halfway, and the overwhelming noise stopped, or he went deaf, he couldn't tell. He turned the key further, and the wind stopped. With every ounce of his resolve he worked at turning the fear into a shield. He fought against it until it ceased.
There was nothing for a moment a complete lack of existence a space between life and death, a silent vacuum, and then he returned. He no longer had a body, he was something ethereal. The final turn had clicked the key into position and the lights went out. Within the void, there was only his amorphous spirit form and a door without a knob. Nastas was unsure of how to open such a door. His youthful curiosity got the better of him. Nastas yanked at the key, clawed at the door, his lust for knowledge overtook him. Behind the door must lie the path forward. In his fervor, frustration got the better of him. As he struggled the task became more difficult. On the other side of the door was everything he had ever wanted to know, but the door would not budge. He stopped for a moment, stewing in disappointment.
“If you struggle and it becomes harder, then what must you do?” said the voice of the Enchantress.
Then it clicked in his mind. Letting go was the key. The key clicked into its final position. He must release, he must relax into the process and let it take him. He could not direct it. Nastas did just that, and the door cracked open revealing a sliver of light that poured through into the void. Destiny unfolded before him, all he had to do was walk through the door.
Nastas opened the door and stepped through into another world. A world alien to the world from which he had been born. Inside the labyrinthine realm of dreams was a world that both terrified and excited him. He did not comprehend what this world meant. Nastas was experiencing this world as though he were apart of every piece. It was so incredibly illuminating that he could hardly grasp it. He was the rock, he was the tree, he was the man, and the beast. Nastas was caught within the moment, stuck as the information funneling into him clogged and halted its march into his mind. He slowed his excitement and realized the power in appreciating a single thing at one singular moment. Once he had done that, he moved on to the next. The pace began to quick, each small aspect led to a larger aspect, which increased the terminal velocity of his experience until at once he was able to see the trees for the wood. The world, the time, the possibility he was being shown was full of grandeur, of accomplishment, of feats never achieved by the children of the Goddess. A world of possibility.
He saw a world of flying machines that reached the stars. Magnificent cities that sprawled out across the face of the Earth.
Nastas was enchanted, Was this the future of his world? How fantastic!’ he thought.
He was enthralled by the possibilities that floated around him. The wonder was more than he ever dreamt. But something lurked behind it. Something sinister, a darkness covered by the light. Though the light illuminated the world in warm glowing splendor, it was hiding a blemish that was truly out of balance. Beneath the guise of this light was a scar that grew and grew. He sensed it, and over time Nastas saw what the ultimate cost of the splendid light was. He inspected further.
The face of the Earth had become littered with the bones of the dead, both Fae and human alike. Weapons that breathed helfire and took the lives of millions were used to forge victory. Upon these massive graves and horrendous tragedies would be built these cities of light. Nastas looked on in horror as he realized that this world, this future would be built by man. The men of this future were not the men that Nastas wished his own people would become. They knew of evil, yet they turned a blind eye to it. Their false sense of righteousness was built on a house of lies. Lies they accepted and paid little care. They walked about mindlessly, though they lived, they were not truly alive. They existed in a fog of amnesia, a state of permanent denial that they had fallen from grace. He was horrified by the revelation and turned his head. Nastas wanted to understand the secrets of the natural world. He wanted more than anything to absorb all knowledge of man and Fae. He thought if he had that, he might fix the world. But all the knowledge in the world would not fix the brokenness of men’s hearts. He realized that his own lust for knowledge only led to the same path that his ancestors had taken. It was a path of destruction, one that would lead to the end of all he wished to understand.
Nastas took his face in his hands and wept. Was this truly all there was? Was this the destiny of men?
From the void came forth a luminous figure. Her stride was beautiful, graceful and without compare. Her smile warmed and mended his broken heart. His eyes were fixed upon her, and her smile bore a familiar feeling. Nastas immediately knew her. Only one being could achieve such grace, such beauty. She was the Mother, the Goddess, the Creatrix of All and her glory was without comparison. He would know his creator anywhere. She did not speak to him. She wiped the tears off of his cheek looked at him. Thousands of years of collective amnesia fell away from his subconscious.
In his heart, he heard her words, “Nastas, you are the last of my first born children. Though you are very special to me, you are not what you think you are, though the rest of my children need you now more than ever. My connection to them has been severed by an unholy light. I cannot guide them as I have. They fall to sin once again, they have sought to distance me from your world.”
“How can this be?” he asked.
“I can tell you no more young shaman. Now I rely upon you, my last link to creation. I need you to restore my connection to the well of Annwn. No matter the cost, I beg you to restore what has been lost.”
“But how?” he said. “I do not know this world. I have no allies, none who might help me.”
“You will find your way, you will be a balm to those who hurt in times of need, you will be a teacher to those who will change the course of history. But you cannot stay here with me any longer. There are things here that lust for my children, and I must do what I can to protect them. Our hopes rest in your capable heart.”
He wished he could stay in her warmth forever. His eyes begged her to stay.
She pointed and showed him where his body lay. “Do you see, you must return to it now. Carry with you this message. Those who undergo the trial are they are in danger. A vicious corruption has taken hold of men. They will try to undo the tapestry of fate. To turn young Samsara to their cause, they will succeed in doing so if she is pushed too far. The trial of Calas is long, the journey deep into their own inner realms. If they succeed the world I showed you will only be the start. The seed of a much more destructive pattern of existence. It is a world I have seen, and a world that my children must never see.” she directed his attention to the black cloaked figure who sat beside him. “You do not know him yet, but he will guide you towards your purpose. You must trust him, and he must trust you. He will not be easy to convince. But you must make him see what you believe in your heart to be the proper course. Will you pledge yourself to this purpose?”
Nastas now knew his true purpose, and he replied, “I will mother.”
In an instant, he was torn from her grace and flung through time and space back into his corporeal form. His eyes shot open. The old begg
ar was crouched in front of him. Nastas stirred awake in a fit of ecstasy. Life returned to him.
“We must find her,” Nastas stated. “She is in danger, they all are,” his voice was panicked.
“Samsara,” queried the old sage.
“The champions they, something is waiting for them, a trap, it... it, it's within the hearts of the men in the trial. We have to warn her!”
The sage rose to his feet and calmed Nastas. “Easy, easy you’re in shock. Slowly come out of it breathe that’s it breathe.” Nastas followed his direction and breathed. “What did you see, was it Samsara?”
Nastas shook his head, “No it was the Mother.”
The eyes of the old sage grew in amazement, “You saw her, the Mother, what did she say?”
“Her connection is broken. Something has happened.”
“The Fand,” said the sage. “I cannot feel them. Who could have accomplished this?”
“The trial, something’s wrong, it's like a serpent lying in wait. A single word will trigger it. It has been planted in them, by something powerful, a being of light, or something. A man whose body is covered in scars, he set one of the champions to a task, to destroy all the Fae. There are many paths forward one where she chooses the Fae, one where she chooses men, one where she neither. In all paths forward we are met with war, but only if she dies can they take her body. If they kill her, they will use her to unleash a darkness upon the world. They need her for some reason. They want to turn her against her purpose. She is too strong in life to capitulate to their will, but if they kill her, they can create an abomination from her corpse.”
The sage took a moment.
“The Hidden Circle were all that knew of the tasks. If a man had known, then he was attached to the traitor, but how? And to what end? It is not forbidden to do so, but what does he gain by slaughtering the Fae? What does he want with the Seraeph? It is mindless” he said aloud. “Unless he seeks to have dominion over the Hidden Circle, a human would tip the numbers in favor of change, of course! He must have more allies within the circle. There must be more than one, for if he has moved to eliminate Fae sympathies, of which Samsara has few, then he seeks to turn the newest member against the fist. With me gone, they are vulnerable.”
Nastas watched as the sage held his head in shame. “What a fool I am,” he said. “We cannot let all the Fae be slaughtered during the first trial. There must be a recourse. There is a way to reach them though I do not know if I can. Arawn would be alerted to my presence. His hounds would follow my scent, I'd be powerless.”
The sage stood up, he paced.
“The trial is within the Earth. Could you not send me there?” asked Nastas. “I could warn them.”
The sage shook his head, “No it is too dangerous, if Arawn were to see you, we would lose the small advantage we have. They believe you dead or missing. They do not know we have you if they did they would surely double their efforts. Without you safe, there is nothing left to stop them from reversing the curse upon mankind. Whatever their plan is now, it is a better outcome, than what would occur if man once again could wield the source as they once did.”
“No not it isn’t I have seen this world. They do not need magic to bring about an end.” said Nastas. “Our only chance lies with her.”
“What do you know of these things boy? You think one trip into the dreaming makes you an expert on the future. Nothing is certain, everything can be changed.”
Nastas was frustrated. He was sure of his vision. He had just been there, deep within the Earth, “Damn the consequences. What good does it do to let it happen? We can’t just sit by and watch it happen! I don’t even know who you are, she said I can trust you but how do I know you aren’t one of them?”
Nastas could see that the old man start to bend towards his solution.
“You realize in order for me to send you to his realm, you must die. There will be no return, no saving your kin. Men will never be redeemed. By going down this path you nullify both your destiny and my own.”
“I've seen what will come if they succeed, it is worse than you can imagine. It is worse than the risk of losing your advantage. This war is only the first of many to come if we lose this battle we lose all of them. All that matters right now at this moment is making sure she does not lose her way in the darkness. The Goddess told me to do what is right and I won't break that promise.”
The sage was moved by the impassioned words of the youth, Nastas could see it on his wrinkled old face. He moved towards him and sat down.
“If the Mother sent you to deliver this message, I know that it carries more weight than I will ever grasp.” He paused. “We do this your way but know this will not be easy. What you see within the darkness will change parts of your soul too. None are permitted to enter into Arawn's dominion without recourse, his hounds will forever remember your scent, and you will never be rid of his vengeance. The Grove will know and the Guardians will descend upon this place in minutes. They will take your body from this place and twist it to their designs. Once you make the connection to his underworld, you will have to find a way through the maze. I will do what I can to give you time, but you must journey with haste. You may only be given one word with which to sway the champions.”
Nastas acknowledged what the old sage had told him.
“Are you ready?”.
Nastas nodded. He watched as the old beggar pulled a dagger from his robes. With the dagger raised above his Nastas gave the command.
“Do it!” he cried.
The knife struck clean and punctured through his ventricles. Blood flowed out of heart into the cavity of his chest. Life left him and once again he faded from the physical realm.
Chapter Thirty
Pythia, the High Priestess of the Great Goddess
By maiden, mother, crone,
By blood, flesh, and bone,
The faithful summon the standing stone.
Pythia wiped a tear from her cheek before proceeding forward to begin her address. Dagda’s impassioned words had stirred the hearts and feelings of all in attendance. Never in all the thousands of festivals had he performed with such compassion and virtue. She could feel just how rooted his beliefs in redemption were. The King of the Fae displaying compassion and acceptance of mankind realizing his divine purpose was inspiring. Though she had known of his desire to bring brother into the arms of brother, man to the Fae, she had never grasped the depths of his emotions.
Even after thousands of years, you continue to amaze Mother. She prayed silently
Pythia collected herself and walked forward with a commanding presence.
She looked at the millions of pilgrims. Millions more were also moved to tears by the King’s oration. She raised her arms to address the mass, thousands of tiny silver bells jingled and rang. Her ornate regalia had been crafted by the hands of hundreds of pixies. This display was important. Pythia was the mouth of the Goddess. As no others could see Her as she did, it was her duty to embody the image she’d been given. She was the living vestige of the Great Goddess.
“The land we stand upon is hallowed ground. Nowhere on Earth is her connection to us stronger. What you are feeling, what we are all experiencing is her unending grace. The Dagda spoke true, no matter how far we stray, no matter how we stumble she has always provided. No other force in universe is so merciful. Let us raise our voices in praise for our Great Mother Goddess. May our voices reach to the ends of this Earth. For our faith can move mountains and dry oceans. May our rejoicing let all who oppose her tremble at Her limitless authority. For we all know that through love, sacrifice, and union we are more powerful than hate, selfishness, and divisions. Exult and praise our Great Goddess, lift her name so that even the heavens tremble!”
Millions of spirited voices erupted in jubilant revelry. The sound was greater than the war cry of any army on Earth. Pythia raised her chin and closed her eyes.
Great Goddess hear their exultation. Receive their prayers and show them your gr
ace. Pythia lifted their prayers to the heavens.
“People of all nations, your sacrifices have been received. Your champions await the first trial of our Great Goddess.”
The champions gathered behind her. “As these brave souls journey into the depths below, I beg you to join me in prayer. May our spirits guide them in their time of need, may our prayers act as shields against the darkness. The sacrificed will enter the womb of the Earth. A score will descend, not all will emerge. I ask that you join me in pledging the light of your spirit to their success. For it is in them that we place all our hope.”
Pythia turned to address the champions. “The champions will form a circle.”
The champions did as instructed.
Pythia called for the three stone singers from the realm of the Dweorg. “Will those who sing the songs of the stones come forth?”
They wore robes adorned in the finest treasures from beneath the Earth, a mark of their mastery over the realm of rock and stone. One by one they chanted, singing the song of the depths.
Lyric of jasper,
Hymn of ruby.
Melody of sapphire,
Verses of rock and stone,
Open the way to land of bone.
The vibratory hum of their voices soaked into the ground beneath their feet and drew forth a score standing stones before each sacrifice. The champions themselves stood in amazement as the black glass emerged from the body of the Earth before their eyes. Upon the stones, a small flat surface appeared.
“Would each of you place a hand upon the stone?” They followed her instruction. “Do you swear on your own blood, the life force within you, the fluid that binds you to this physical plane, to serve the good of the people. To act as a light in the dark, to serve her divine will and all the peoples under her creation?”
Nemeton: The Trial of Calas (Hallowed Veil Book 1) Page 38