Into the Storm: Into the Storm Trilogy Book One
Page 35
Lost in thought, in enchantment at the beauty of the sunset and the magic of the approaching twilight, she tucked her flowers into the bodice of her dress to keep a hand free, so she could dig her fingers into the earth of the hillside to pull herself up, or grab on so she wouldn’t fall when it became especially steep. It seemed fitting somehow, that she had chosen the more difficult path, the most challenging climb.
And she was determined to conquer it, because in some way she felt that this physical achievement could be symbolic of the emotional battle she was waging in her mind. That proving she was stronger physically would translate to her being stronger mentally, and conquering those demons.
So lost in thought was she that she didn’t notice the mists that were thickening around her, although she was grateful for the cool air that was soothing her hot cheeks, which were already red from the exertion of the first half of her climb. But suddenly she almost stumbled into something, and her eyes flew upward from the grass of the hill to the face of a woman who had appeared right in front of her. Her heart beat a mile a minute. She’d thought they would be alone out here tonight, and her shoulders drooped in disappointment.
Would their ceremony be ruined by the interruption of others? Should they give up now and go home, maybe do their ritual inside, rather than out under the full moon? The thought saddened her, because nature was so much a part of the path they were committing to, but she knew that intent was important too, and if they had to change venue they should just roll with it and make the best of things. But still she sighed… until her heart started hammering again.
As she peered more closely at the woman, she realised that parts of her were still as insubstantial as the mists, and the blue gown she’d thought she was wearing was actually transparent in some places. Was she a ghost? For a moment fear thrummed through her, but the being smiled at her, with a look of such love and comfort that her terror slowly faded away.
“Ah Rhiannon, my brave and shining one,” she said, as she moved forward and enfolded her in a hug. A sense of joy and peace came over her as she melted into the embrace, and she smiled. Was this the blue-clad woman, the same one who had held her close while she cried that long-ago day on the tor? The one who had shown herself again a few months later, and taken her hands and encouraged her to reconsider her career plans?
The figure before her inclined her head regally in acknowledgement, and Rhiannon bit her lip to stop herself pouring out a diatribe of questions, challenges and comments. She wasn’t sure that would be welcome right now.
“We are so happy you are taking this step with your friend, committing to your magic, and to your own growth and inner peace,” she said, although her lips didn’t appear to move, and Rhiannon wasn’t sure whether the sound she was hearing was coming from within her own head or outside of it. Could she be making this up, thinking something magical was happening because she wanted so badly for it to be true?
But the woman kept speaking, words of love and hope, of the power of nature and the wisdom of their circle and all the potential it held. Rhiannon’s heart lifted, and her excitement grew – until the message changed, and cryptic words of warning were added, of the possibility of betrayal, and the need for her to trust even when it seemed undeserved.
Panic rose in her, and she started to wonder what it meant, and whether it was Carlie she couldn’t trust. But within moments a calming sensation enveloped her, and the blue-clad woman smiled at her so sweetly, so reassuringly. All her worries fell away, and Rhiannon took a deep, steadying breath, focusing again on the beauty of the sky and the magic of the mists swirling around her. When she turned back to the woman in blue, she saw that she had a silver chalice in her hands, and was holding it out to her.
“For you, when things get hard,” she explained, and there was love, compassion and understanding in her voice as she leaned over and placed it in the velvet bag slung over Rhiannon’s shoulder. “And for your friend,” she added, slipping a small object into her hand.
“It’s beautiful,” she whispered, entranced by the way her candle flame glittered on the chalice’s surface. She looked back up at the woman to thank her, but there was no one there, just the mists that continued to dance around her and in front of her. She shivered.
People said this hill could get into your mind and your heart, could play tricks on you, and it seemed as though she had fallen prey to it too. Yet nestled in her palm was a silver ring, with a delicate silver butterfly on it, and wings that were made from sparkling aquamarines. And in her bag was the beautiful silver chalice, complete with inlaid moonstones. These things were real, even if the woman of the mists was not.
Eventually she shook herself. She couldn’t stand here forever trying to puzzle it out. Carlie was probably up on the summit right now, wondering where she was. Quickly she resumed her climb up the steep grassy slope, and by the time she got to the top, she was breathing heavily, her cheeks rosy with the effort, but eager to begin, and relieved that Carlie was alone up there. No one would interrupt them tonight.
Her friend’s face was flushed with excitement, and before she had even put her bag down, Carlie had presented her with a gorgeous silver ring with a dragonfly on it, its wings formed from tiny pink rose quartz crystals – twin to the one she’d been given for Carlie. Thrilled, she handed that one over, then they both shared the stories of their encounters.
While Rhiannon had been listening to the blue-clad woman, her friend had been conversing with a woman dressed in green – the beating heart of the tor, she’d explained, and of the nature and landscape of this country, someone they could call on when they needed to ground themselves and connect back to the earth.
“Maybe this means they’re happy for us to be here, to be making magic in this sacred place?” Carlie asked hopefully.
Rhiannon nodded. “The one I met said that she’s glad we’re doing this too, which was a nice confirmation.”
Both were quiet after that, and Rhiannon wondered if Carlie had received a warning about her. Would she fail her new friend in some way? The idea that she might betray someone worried her, but she pushed the fear aside so they could start their dedication ceremony.
Kneeling together on the lush grass at the top of the tor, the girls set up their altar. Rhiannon placed two large candles in pretty glass jars in the centre, to represent the god and the goddess, then poured the blend of lunar herbs she’d mixed that morning into a small dish in the east, to represent air, and set a golden candle in the south to represent fire. Carlie added a large piece of clear quartz in the north to represent earth, and a small cup of lavender-infused water in the west for water.
Then she carefully unwrapped an athame from its green velvet pouch – a gift from the green-robed woman, and pair to Rhiannon’s chalice – and raised her eyes to the darkening sky. Inhaling a deep, centring breath, she slowly paced out a circle, with the ritual knife tracing the lines of its border as her words cast their intent and manifested the protected space between the worlds they would work within into being.
Within this circle, that our intent will form,
Between the worlds, a safe place born.
Ancient beings of this sacred hill,
We call to you with our deepest will.
Please hold us close throughout this rite,
Reveal the magic on this full moon night.
The air seemed to shimmer as she came back to the place where she’d started, and Rhiannon gasped as golden sparks danced around Carlie’s head, just as the moon began to rise slowly above the horizon. She felt a sensation of warmth and power slide over her shoulders, warming her, and lending her the confidence for the next step. It was her turn to speak, to welcome the elements and the directions, so she filled her new chalice with spring water, then raised it above her head as she turned to face the north.
Guardians of the north, and element of earth,
Please ground us with your strength and nurturing,
and watch over our sacred rite.
Guardians of the east, and element of air,
Please grant us your intuition and clarity,
and share your wisdom with us this night.
Guardians of the south, and element of fire,
Please burn away our fears and doubts,
and flood us with your power and might.
Guardians of the west, and element of water,
Please wash away all we no longer need,
and allow us to soak up this magical moonlight.
They stood opposite each other in the centre of the circle, one on each side of the altar. Gazing skyward again, Carlie raised her arms and invoked the goddess, looking as though she was gathering all the energy of the universe within her.
Then Rhiannon raised her hands and eyes to the sky and called on the god, and for the blessings of all the deities on their ritual of dedication. She felt the magic weave around her, comforting her, strengthening her. And she felt a huge release, a softness of sorts, soaking into her very bones, and leaving her calmer, and stronger, and more complete.
When she closed her eyes, she saw the woman in blue before her, wreathed in mists and with a smile on her face, and no matter the message she’d received or the warning within it, her heart lifted. She felt peace and contentment coursing through her blood as she thought of the steps she and Carlie were taking tonight, formalising their coven and declaring to the world, to the gods, to themselves, that they were serious about their magical studies and their journey into the Mysteries.
Smiling, she sank down onto the cool grass, and inclined her head in Carlie’s direction. Her friend nodded, and lifted a small, thin gold candle, bending forward to light it from the central flame. Somehow managing to keep her cascade of long dark hair away from the tiny golden light, she held it to her heart, then looked towards the horizon as the huge glowing ball of the full moon continued to rise slowly in the darkening sky.
I light this flame to symbolise the growing flame in my heart, as it awakens to the magic that flows within me, and the sense of ancestry that runs through my blood and connects me to this land. I come before you, goddess and spirits of place, humble in your presence, to commit to learning more, understanding more, sharing more. I am grateful to Rhiannon for allowing me to share this with her, and I promise I will work hard, research well and often, remain open minded, be supportive, and commit wholeheartedly to our Tuesday night study circle.
Securing her candle in the small glass holder in front of her, Carlie looked over at Rhiannon with a smile. She nodded, then took her own small, thin gold candle, and lit it from the central pillar too.
I light this flame to be a beacon of hope and love, to illuminate the darkness so that Mum can see me from wherever she is. Tonight under the silvery beauty of the full moon, I promise to honour the Old Ways, to step where my mother once walked, on the path of the goddess, and to pledge my support, my time and my heart to the coven that Carlie and I are consecrating tonight. Blessed be.
“Blessed be,” Carlie echoed. A cool breeze set their candles fluttering, and the girls collapsed back onto the grass, suddenly feeling light-headed and spaced out.
After farewelling the elements, the directions and the deities, then closing their circle, the girls grounded their energy with fruit juice and spicy moon cookies, then headed back down the hill for a sleepover.
That night Rhiannon dreamed of the woman in blue, who repeated her messages from the tor. She was trying to warn her, to prepare her, for a coming war, or a battle of wills, and of the potential of her friend to betray her. There was a test to come, she kept repeating, and Rhiannon would have to hold close to her faith, hold close to her trust, no matter what.
“There are things you cannot see, things you cannot know, that will make you doubt the ones closest to you,” she said urgently. “Remember your faith in them, even when it seems no longer deserved. This will test you as much as them, believe me. And you will pass, if you stay true to you.”
The next morning when she woke there were tears on her pillow. The words betrayal and trust echoed through her mind, but she couldn’t latch on to any of the other words in order to make sense of it, so finally she shrugged her shoulders and dismissed her worries. School was starting the next day, and she had to get ready.
* * * * *
When the alarm shocked Rhiannon from sleep on Monday morning, she groaned and pulled the covers over her head, before remembering that it was the first day of school. The first day of her final year. And she was a lot more positive about it than she’d expected. Before she’d met Carlie she’d been dreading it, but having a friend who understood her, a friend who needed her, made all the difference.
Jumping out of bed, she headed for the shower, then made sure Brodie was up before she skipped downstairs to make breakfast for them. Their dad had already left for work, but he’d made them both lunches, and left a little note with each one. Grinning as she read hers, she hurried Brodie along so they could walk to school together.
“Rhi-Rhi, are you going to move away and leave me?” he asked plaintively.
Shocked, she stopped and knelt down so her eyes were level with his. “Why would you think that?”
“Ben said his sister can’t wait to finish school so she can escape this crummy village and move to London,” he said, lip quivering. Admittedly the thought had crossed her mind too, but that was a while ago. Now she was actually excited about staying here, of learning more from Rose, and studying to be a grief counsellor with Carlie at the nearby university.
Grinning at Brodie, she shook her head. “No buddy, I’m not going anywhere, I promise.”
Face brightening and voice stronger, he took her hand again. “And will Carlie keep coming over to our place?”
Curious, she stared at him, trying to understand where the question was coming from. “Probably, because we’ll be studying together, at school and out. Why, is that okay?” she asked, suddenly worried her brother didn’t like her friend.
But Brodie nodded vigorously. “Yes, I like her,” he said. “You’ve been happier since you met her. And it’s like she makes you stronger or something, more content.”
Gobsmacked, she stared at her little brother. Her little brother who wasn’t so little any more. And she realised that for some reason she’d frozen him in time as the innocent child who hadn’t understood what it meant when their mum died, the one who couldn’t comprehend her sadness and despair, didn’t realise just how much they’d both lost. And yet, he was growing up, and he was seeing her and their dad and how they reacted to things. She’d have to keep that in mind.
Suddenly she felt a stab of guilt. Had their dad been right to not let him come to Rose’s memorial ritual for their mum? Was it wrong that they hadn’t taken him to their mum’s grave yet? To act like it was perfectly normal to lose a mother so young, and try to hide their own anguish from him? And even if they’d been right then, perhaps things had changed, and they should include him in their remembering of Beth now?
“I’m glad you like her,” she finally said, and ruffled his hair affectionately. This was definitely something to talk about with her dad when she got home tonight.
When they reached the primary school she leaned down and hugged him before she let him go. A ferocious hug, in which she tried to convey all her love and affection for him. And he let her for a moment, until his friend Ben came towards them, and he quickly squirmed out of her arms and ran off onto the playground. She grinned. There was still a lot of the kid in him, which made her happy. She would hate for him to have lost all of his innocence.
Hurrying across the road to the high school, she made her way to the assembly hall just in time to get her class schedule for the term. She felt a twinge of guilt when she saw the relief on Carlie’s face that she’d finally arrived, then disappointment when they saw they were in different classes for the first three today. But fourth period finally came around, and they filled each other in on their mornings before their teacher arrived.
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They were both shocked, yet excited, when Laura, Ms Henderson, explained their assignment for the coming term. They would be studying pre-Christian gods and goddesses, and would each choose one to do a project on.
“No prizes for guessing who you two will do,” she said to the girls as she handed a list of deities around the room. They stared at her in confusion. Carlie had recently discovered that her mum had named her for Kali, the goddess of life, death and destruction, but Rhiannon? They ran their eyes down the list, then raised their eyebrows as they saw her name there too.
“Rhiannon is the Celtic goddess of healing, inspiration and the moon. And she’s especially associated with this area,” Ms Henderson revealed. “Your mother named you well. You’ll be honouring her memory as you research this project, and you may come to know her even better too.”
Rhiannon felt a fluttering in her tummy, a sense of excitement and possibility. That’s what she wanted to do, learn more about her mum, learn more about the goddess, and it was being handed right to her.
When she got home from school that afternoon, she settled Brodie at the kitchen table with a glass of milk, some crackers and a colouring-in book, then pulled out the beautiful Book of Shadows Rose had gifted her with. She was determined that it would be every bit as magical as her mum’s was.
* * * * *
I found out today that Mum named me for the goddess Rhiannon, a deity of transformation and inspiration, and an example of love, grace and beauty to many. She’s connected with birds and horses, and with the cycles of the moon and the stars, and is considered by many to be a faery queen, dwelling in the Otherworld. I wonder if she knows our friends from the mists?
She is a goddess of love, of fertility and of dreams, and is associated with the horse deity Epona, the ancient British goddess Rigatona, and the Lady of the Lake. The moon and the winds are sacred to her, and she reputedly possesses great magic.