Ancestors Of Avalon - Ancestors of Avalon Part 14
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Ancestors of Avalon Part 14

One tiny spark defies the dark . . .

And the Wheel turns."

For this ceremony, as tradition required, everyone was wearing the simple robe of the Temple of Light; but, truth to tell, hardly any scrap of that gleaming white cloth could be seen beneath the coarse wrappings that the climate required.

Chedan smiled wryly behind his mask. We shall have to fashion warmer vestments if we are to maintain our ritual splendor, he thought.

With a wrench, he brought himself back into focus, and added his voice to the song: "Darkness falls, yet moonlight calls,

And the Wheel turns.

The starry night may grant delight . . .

Till the Wheel turns."

With the last word, the singers, flutes, and drums stilled. A moment passed.

"Who comes here at the halted year?" Chedan sang. "Where Banur, four-faced king, holds sway? Why do you tarry, as the world sinks into darkness?"

"We are the children of Light," the chorus answered. "We do not fear the shadows. We rise to build beacons that will grant light to all!"

"Yet in this kingdom of the frozen moons," Liala's warm voice soared, "beyond wisdom and faith, what power can sustain you?"

"The power of Life! The circle of Love . . ."

"Come then," Chedan and Liala sang together, "let this warmth into our hearts."

All the voices united. "Father Light, return unto the world!"

Garments rustled and all too many joints creaked as the celebrants settled into the form of meditation. The ground was surely very cold, but not too damp, or not at first.

"Now does the longest night fall," Chedan intoned. "Now Banur holds all earth in thrall. . . ." He paused, trying to calculate just how much time remained before the celestial nodes intersected the northern point of the ecliptic. He had labored long to identify the precise instant when the hidden sun would pass from the realm of the Sea Goat into that of the Water Bearer.

"From the earliest days of the Temple," he continued, "we have celebrated this moment before the sun begins to wax once more. We gather, therefore, not only to re-consecrate ourselves to the great work, but to affirm that our powers are worthy to be allied to those that rule all that there is.

"Fire is an earthly manifestation of that Light. Thus we honor it, knowing as ever that the Symbol is nothing, but the Reality, of which the Symbol is born, is everything. Tonight, we ally our energies with those of earth to invoke heaven. Are you prepared to join your powers now, that the Light may be reborn?"

From the circle came a murmur of assent.

"Lead us from the unreal," Chedan sang, "unto the Reala""

"Lead us out of darkness," Liala sang, "into the Lighta""

"Lead us from the fear of death," the acolytes sang in reedy chorus, "to the knowledge of Eternitya"

"Champions of Light, arise!

Awake, alive in the mortal sphere,

And as the moon, reflect Manoah,

In His refulgence ever neara""

Chedan did not see the celebrants join hands, but he felt the shift in pressure as the circle closed. Liala stood on the other side of the altar, her hands extended, palms out. He mirrored the movement, and the first tendrils of power sparked between them.

Together they sounded the first of the sacred syllables, bringing up the power from the earth on which they stood to the base of the spine. Chedan sustained the note as Liala drew breath, then breathed in himself as she recommenced, and so all around the circle so that the sound was almost seamless. The Word of Power began to surge through the circle and build in force, until the Tor beneath their feet seemed to hum.

Chedan drew another breath, and let the power rise to his belly, and began the Second Word. As the circle reinforced it, his manhood stiffened with the raw power spiraling through his abdomen, but even as he recognized his arousal he was refocusing the energy . . . It was not usually so difficult. Sweat beaded on his brow.

The circle made a smooth transition into the Third Word, but Chedan could not help twitching spasmodically as fires flared in his solar plexus, implosions of energy that sparked in every nerve. When the tremors eased, he saw that Liala had become a glowing golden figure flecked with topaz lightnings. But her power was wavering. As her difficulty began to resonate back to him, Chedan fought panic.

But it was too late for second-guessing. Chedan took another deep breath and voiced the Third Word again, this time directing the full force of it at the figure in the mask of Ni-Terat. Her limbs shook, cascading bands of blue and violet rippled around her like a feeding serpent, and with a shock the barrier gave way. The circle gasped and swayed in the sudden surge of energy.

Trembling with relief, Chedan modulated the lingering resonances into the higher note that carried the Fourth Word . . . hearts opened, they were filled with waves of love. With the Fifth Word came a wind of energy, a sound of beauty so intense it became unbearable. It was a deliverance to move onward to the point of power in the third eye.

The utterance of the Sixth Word, reflecting and recurring in visible waves of sound, resolved the conflict of perception and illusion. Even Chedan could not tell if the auras of the others had grown brighter or if it was his own vision that had changed; yet he could see each member of the circle plainlya"and not only their physical features. Chedan knew that he was looking into their very spirits. The merest glance at Liala revealed her dedication and her pride, and the need for love that yearned within her soul; but then all was subsumed as the greater power flowed, a great pillar of light, arcing between earth and heaven.

Little by little it steadied, and Chedan began to draw the energy downward and out along his shoulders to his hands.

Suddenly, out of the kindling piled upon the altar stone, a pale thread of smoke spiraled upward.

Lines of gold sparked in the wood, and then the flames rose. The scent of sweet oils filled the air.

"Blessed be Light!" they chorused. "Blessed the Light at our inner dawn, showing the way to wake, to warm. Blessed the Light that lives in every pulsing heart. Blessed the Light of which we each and all are made."

The flames leaped higher, gilding the faces of the worshippers as they began to dance sunwise around them, and glowing upon the weathered contours of the ancient stone circle. Chedan stepped backward as the eternal power of the earth swelled to a steady flow of energy that radiated out from the altar, burning away the fog that had cloaked the Tor.

Chedan gestured, and the celebrants unclasped their hands, raising their arms. "Come, Light's children, Light's champions," he sang. "Bathe your worldly torches in the fire of the spirit. Bear new light to hearth and to home!"

One by one, each of the celebrants approached the altar, lit his or her torch from the sacred fire, and then continued round the circle to begin the journey downhill. Chedan watched with a tired smile as the line of torches bobbed away, garlanding the path with light. The singers continued, "A spark to make the sunfire blaze,

And flame-lit visions fill our gaze,

Yet Love endures; we know its ways,

As the Wheel turns."

In years to come, the mage mused, things would have to change. There had been an uncommon roughness to the power, and though all had come out well in the end, the strangeness troubled him. What could the explanation be? Was my uncle Ardral right? he asked himself, with a pang of loss. Do we stand at the verge of a new age?

"The Mother rests, but soon will wake,

Her herbs to gather, bread to bake,

From Earth's womb, new life we take,

And the Wheel turns."

Chedan frowned, then smiled more broadly than before. The old song seemed newly appropriate. But then the seeds of the future are always found in the past, he reminded himself. The father is not dead if his wisdom survives . . .

"Are you all right? Shall I lend you my cloak? Do you need to lean on me on the way down?" Damisa's words were kind, but underneath them Tiriki could hear exasperation mingled with concern.

She shook her head. It had been embarrassing enough to lumber through the ritual dance like a foundered pony! Next someone would be offering to carry her around in a sedan chair . . .

"My lady?" Damisa pressed. "Shall Ia"?"

"I'm fine!" Tiriki snapped.

"I'm sure you are!" The girl's tone sharpened as well. "I was only trying to help!"

Tiriki sighed. She was growing tired of Damisa's erratic alternation between leisurely distraction and solicitous concern, but she knew that expending energy as they had done in the ritual often left tempers thin. She took a deep breath, gasped at the icy quality of the air, and tightened her hold on her own composure.

"I thank you," said Tiriki courteously. "I'll come down in my own time, and meet you there. Go ona"the feast that Reidel and the sailors promised will probably be ready by now!" She lifted her torch, which flared wildly in the fierce wind that had begun to blow as soon as the ritual ended.

"Oh, Reidel!" Damisa tossed her head. "I suppose sailors must learn to do for themselves at sea, but I haven't found their cooking to be anything worth hurrying for . . ."

"Perhaps not," Tiriki said dryly, "but I am sure you are hungry, so run along."

Damisa looked taken aback, but if she was insulted it was not enough to prevent her from taking Tiriki at her word. As the girl proceeded down the path, Tiriki sighed and, much more carefully, followed. At least going downhill she would have her torch to light the way.

The next step went wrong, and her foot came down strangely across a little hollow in the rocky ground. Her breath caught, the muscles of her belly cramped, and she stopped again, leaning on her staff, remembering once more the babes she had been unable to bring to term. With this thought a little fear came, a horror that perhaps she had harmed the child . . .

Nearby, a boulder poked out from the turf. She considered sitting down, but her instinct was to keep in motion. Surely, she told herself, it is not so serious. Once I have warmed up a little, the ache will go away.

Taking another deep breath, Tiriki started out again. She could hear happy laughter from below, and one or two voices still above, but for the moment she was quite alone on the path. As she angled toward the lower slope, the shrubbery on each side grew thicker. Soon she would be among the trees. And not too soona"it's coming on to rain, she thought as a hint of dampness kissed her cheek.