by A. Evermore
Wizards with long robes, gnarly staves and tall hats were sweating profusely in the summer heat, refusing to give in and take off their robes of status. However, one young, tall and skinny Wizard had already discarded his hat, stuffed it into his belt, and tied his cloak about his waist. Though it was still morning he was red faced from wine but still managed to put on a good show for the children clustered around him. They stared up at him wide-eyed as he performed magic tricks. Flashing lights danced in the sky all the colours of the rainbow. She found herself giggling at the spectacle.
Issa even glimpsed Freydel deep in conversation with a short fat, mostly bald, lord who had a thick moustache and shiny black boots. The glass of red wine he held looked positively tiny in his large chubby hand.
She was more intrigued by Freydel, though, for he too was fully dressed in his Wizard’s outfit; hat and robe of purple hues and a thick staff. Issa smiled at him but he was too engrossed in his conversation and didn’t see her. She couldn’t help but wonder if there were any female Wizards, there certainly were none here at the celebrations. There were a fair few less well-dressed people, travellers and locals.
‘All who can make the journey from across Maioria are welcome to the Mid Summer Celebrations on the Sacred Isle, for it was always meant to be a spiritual thanksgiving,’ Ely explained, ‘though some still think it’s a fashion parade. But despite what you wear all are equals here at Castle Elune. Sometimes even the King and Queen of Frayon come, though I have not seen them for many years. Still, less and less people come each year, maybe they have lost the heart for celebrating or have forgotten the meaning of gratitude,’ Ely said. Issa nodded thoughtfully.
Priests and Priestesses mingled in the crowd but it was they that Issa found she most disliked. They were mostly unsmiling though everyone else was enjoying themselves. Despite their pristine white robes that gleamed brightly, they wore them with a seemingly pompous attitude, their faces stating what their lips did not; that they were better than, higher than and more blessed than everyone else. She did not say anything to Ely, feeling it was not her place to express her opinions, but the way the older woman navigated away from them through the crowd Issa wondered if she felt the same.
Issa stayed close to Ely who introduced her as a ‘close friend’ when nobles asked who she was, much to Issa’s surprise and pleasure. When she spoke they seemed to grimace, as if her island accent was not to their liking. Issa was relieved when they smiled but asked no more, there was nothing she could think of to speak to them about anyway.
‘Don’t worry, only royal blood sparks their interests,’ Ely patted her arm as they walked.
There was much to see and do and Issa eventually plucked up enough courage to leave Ely chatting and go exploring. She watched knights in shining armour on elegant horses joust, and laughed and cheered along with other spectators. In a bold move she joined the other ladies to throw a rose upon one of the victors. He caught her eye and winked making her cheeks instantly turn crimson.
There were archery competitions and swordplays, circus acts and dancers and several merry bands that played throughout the day. The jesters and jokers constantly danced and whirled amongst the crowd, tirelessly causing mischief. Issa wandered through many stalls tasting wines and cheeses, beers and ciders, oils and breads, spices and jams and many foods she had no hope of recognising. She ate so much she thought her dress would burst.
The wine was particularly good and soon her head began to swim. As the day wore on, and an endless supply of wine flowed, the dancing and music became more raucous. Two knights, earlier jousting on opposing sides, now danced with each other in a flamboyant display and then one tripped and fell pulling the other down on top of him. The crowd burst into fits of laughter.
In her own laughing fit, Issa was caught off guard when the same dark-haired knight she had thrown a rose to earlier sidled up to her with a smile that made her legs weaken. It’s just the wine, she tried to tell herself.
‘I haven’t seen you dance yet,’ he said, his brown eyes smiling down at her.
‘I uh... can’t uh... don’t know the song, er, hah!’ she stammered, desperately searching for Ely in the crowd, but she was nowhere to be seen. He laughed, his smile making his face even more handsome and making hers hotter.
‘Then I shall show you. Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle,’ he said, winking again, as he grasped her hand.
Ignoring her protests he led her into the midst of whirling laughing dancers. Twice she nearly fell but he caught her deftly and showed her the steps again. Slowly she began to pick it up, her confidence building as she mastered the steps. Soon she was giggling as they twirled around each other. She felt a little giddy being so close to him, could feel the firmness of his body next to hers and the wine singing in her veins made her thoughts wilder than she wanted.
Issa looked for Ely again but the crowd was a blur of laughing clapping figures. All at once the hairs on the back of her neck prickled and she felt hot and very uncomfortable. Her eyes darted over the blurred laughing faces, searching for the source of the feeling akin to malice but couldn’t, at first, see anything.
Suddenly a face she had not seen before formed in the blur, a face that was not smiling, a pale beautiful female face framed in long blonde hair, cold blue eyes and red lips the colour of blood. Under that gaze Issa felt like a bird caught and pinned down by a cat, a cold chill ran down her spine.
She lost the face in the crowd as soon as she had found it and instead found Ely’s warm smile. Relief washed over her and she waved at Ely who laughed and waved back. But try as she might Issa could not rid her mind of the beautiful fair-haired woman.
The dance came to an end and they left breathless, letting fresher dancers take their place. Laughing he held her close to steady her and they made their way over to Lady Eleny.
‘Oh Rance, you always have to dance with the prettiest,’ Ely said in mock chastisement.
Rance blushed, ‘She chose me first, with a rose; how could I refuse such beauty?’ he said, bowing deeply to Issa. In a swift motion Rance kissed her on each cheek, before she could shy away, and whispered, ‘You’re a fast learner, I’ll find you again for another dance before the night is through,’ and then he whirled away and disappeared into the crowd before she had time to reply, leaving her standing open-mouthed in shock at his audacity.
‘He is such a flirt!’ Ely yelped, ‘But anyway, you two looked great! I think he likes you,’ she added impishly.
‘You think so? He must have girls falling over themselves for him,’ Issa replied dismissively.
‘Yes he attracts much attention, but none are as pretty as you,’ Ely complimented, that impish smile still on her face.
Issa looked away blushing, ‘Oh nonsense, you will only expand my ego! Besides, what about that other woman, she is far more beautiful,’ she murmured the last.
‘Who is?’ Ely asked, bending closer for the music had suddenly become louder. Issa was about to speak when a familiar voice came from behind her.
‘I didn’t realise you were such a good dancer,’ said Freydel.
Issa turned and beamed up at him, ‘Oh not really, I would have fallen, twice in fact, had Rance not caught me.’
Freydel smiled back at her but under the smile his face was worn and his amber eyes guarded. Issa thought she heard a raven caw in the distance and was about to dismiss it when her attention was drawn to a flutter of large wings atop the roof of Castle Elune. She felt a sinking feeling; the raven reminded her that there was danger and here, in the midst of celebrations, when all she wanted to do was forget about her problems and the world. Still, it is better to feel protected, she mused.
The beautiful fair-haired woman suddenly appeared from behind Freydel, unsmiling, despite the joyous celebrations. She wore long white robes and held a long thin white staff that emanated a subtle energy. Her blonde hair fell around her slender shoulders and, though she was shorter than Issa, she somehow managed to look down at her with cold
eyes that cast a chill upon her.
Issa had the strongest urge to be as far away from the woman as possible, though she had not said or done anything apart from look at her with cold eyes and red lips turned downwards sourly. Two other Priestesses in white robes stood regal and sullen behind her; they held no staff.
Issa’s mind was a whir of thoughts, though she kept her face a blank mask. She wondered if dancing with Rance had caused the blonde woman’s apparent animosity since she had never met this woman before. She decided to keep up the friendly exterior; she didn’t need any enemies.
‘I would like you to meet the High Priestess of Celene, Cirosa. Cirosa is in charge of the Celenian Temple and second only to the ailing High Priestess of Frayon, the Oracle of the Temple of the Great Goddess, or more simply the Temple,’ Freydel said and bowed. Cirosa said nothing and only gave a smile that was more like a smirk.
With utter reluctance Issa followed Freydel’s bow but did so stiffly. She noticed those nearest also bowed, making Cirosa’s high status clear, much to Issa’s dismay. She was annoyed at bowing to anyone as haughty and unfriendly as this and couldn’t stop a mocking smile sweep across her face. She bowed her head a little lower to hide it.
‘It is a great honour to have you with us, High Priestess,’ Ely said in toneless formality. Issa glanced at Ely, wondering at her coldness. Cirosa’s gaze slithered from Issa to Ely and she smiled, not bothering to hide her scorn.
‘I come to conduct the ceremony of the Great Goddess, and to meet this stranger Freydel has told me so much about. I didn’t come to make idle talk with one who turns her back on the Goddess.’
Ely looked as if she had been slapped, and Issa reddened in anger. Issa remembered that Ely had, seemingly unforgivably, left the Temple for the love of a man, but that was a long time ago and the man was dead, but it seemed this Priestess still harboured grievances.
‘I followed the path the Goddess set out for me, one of love, the highest and most noble path,’ Ely said sharply, somewhat used to Cirosa’s manner, ‘do not be so quick to judge, just because you cannot find that path.’
Issa smiled in surprise at her mild-mannered friend, pleased to not be alone in her dislike of the imperious Priestess.
‘Come now, this is not a time to open old wounds, but of celebrations,’ Freydel said tentatively, smiling awkwardly.
Cirosa looked at Issa with another sour smile, ‘Freydel has told me something of you, and our possible need for you. He believes you are the one spoken of in those dusty old prophecies. Of course this needs to be indisputably tested; we cannot pin all our hopes on one inexperienced girl and suffer annihilation. Besides much of the old prophecy is just the rambling mumbo jumbo of despots.’
It was Freydel’s turn to colour and Issa was quite amazed at how the woman sought to make only enemies for herself, insulting everyone around her in turn. The Priestesses behind her looked to the floor dumbly, their faces guarded as the High Priestess continued.
‘You are not what we were expecting at all,’ Cirosa condescended, ‘still, the test will prove your worth.’ To Issa, Cirosa looked every bit the predator that she was just then. Issa shifted her feet and her mouth went dry, she felt deeply uncomfortable for despite Cirosa’s nastiness there was something else, something twisted and unnatural about her. She would need time alone to think on it and was already looking forward to her leaving.
‘What test is this?’ Issa couldn’t keep the acid out of her voice.
Cirosa looked at her the same way the fancy dressed people did when she spoke, her accent was clearly deemed to be that of a simpleton. Cirosa then arched one thin eyebrow in surprise at Freydel.
‘There hasn’t been much time to talk on this,’ he said hastily.
‘How much time do you need, Wizard? Say, perhaps until the Maphraxies come knocking on our door? We are already running out of time,’ she said impatiently. Freydel’s back stiffened. ‘You’re supposed to come and save us from the Maphraxies,’ she sneered, turning back to Issa, ‘a warrior sent from the Night Goddess herself, to slay the Immortal Lord and lead us all to glory,’ Cirosa ended with a sickly sweet smile that soon faded. ‘So you can see my surprise to find a dizzy girl from some backwater arrive claiming to be this person.’
‘Neither do I claim to be this person nor do I believe I am the one spoken of in the prophecies. But I am happy to do your ‘tests’ and we can put this whole thing to rest once and for all,’ Issa said unable to keep the anger from her voice.
Then you can rest happy in your dwelling, whatever rock that might be under, and carry on ordering others about. Issa wished she had the gall to say the words out loud, if only for her friends’ sake. She certainly was not going to be intimidated by her.
A cunning smile twisted Cirosa’s lips. ‘Good, at least you have some spirit. Come to the Temple of Celene in the morning two days from now,’ she commanded and, having placed her order, turned and left with her Priestesses.
Anger coursed through Issa’s veins, she would not let this woman get the better of her.
‘What a bitch!’ she exclaimed, not caring if Cirosa was out of earshot, ‘how dare she order me around.’
‘She’s had quite a hard time,’ Freydel said weakly, Ely harrumphed.
‘So have I, so have we all, and I don’t give a damn,’ Issa burst out, surprised at her own fury. The air seemed to close in around her and tingle and Freydel widened his eyes in surprise but said nothing though he sensed it too.
‘Don’t worry about her,’ Ely soothed, slipping her arm into Issa’s, ‘she’s just jealous of you because you’re getting all the attention, and most particularly from Rance. I think she fancies herself the Goddess’s own chosen one, though she has not a whit of talent about her and no gifts worthy of speaking about.’
With Ely’s words and in the Priestess’s absence Issa felt some peace return and the air no longer tingled.
‘Ma always told me I should go to Frayon and seek out the Temple Priestesses to train my healing abilities, but now I’m not so sure,’ Issa said.
‘The High Priestess of Frayon, the Oracle, controls the order of the Great Goddess in all of Known Maioria,’ Freydel explained. ‘The High Priestess of Celene, the Great Goddess’s sacred Isle, is second in rule, but it is a position of much power for no law is passed by the High Priestess of Frayon that is not first approved by the High Priestess of Celene. Often it is the High Priestess of Celene who creates the laws, though Cirosa has not yet completed the years of service necessary to fulfil that role completely.’
‘Corrupts the laws more like,’ Ely said, sourly.
Issa said nothing. She took a glass from one of the servants carrying trays of wine and tried to enjoy the celebrations again.
An hour or so later, some twenty or more High Priests and Priestesses from all over Maioria began gathering together. Readying themselves to start the Mid Summer Celebration ceremonies, all holding thin white staves and dressed in pristine white robes that gleamed orange in the late afternoon sun. At Cirosa’s order the crowd hushed and the music stilled to silence.
‘Now is the time we must honour the Great Goddess and give thanks for our bountiful lives,’ Cirosa’s voice rang out clearly in the silence as dusk fell.
Issa positioned herself well back and out of sight. Some forty or so lower ranked Priests and Priestesses, dressed in pastel yellow or grey robes and without staves, gave out candles to each guest as the High Priestess began a long speech.
‘We are blessed that our enemies, the enemies of our Great Goddess, have not reached her sacred Isle, but we pray too that peace will once again cover all of Maioria. I, Cirosa, High Priestess of the Temple of Celene, am divinely chosen by the Great Goddess to soon be the Oracle of the Temple and I shall see to it that peace does indeed come to our lands.’
Issa almost laughed aloud. She glanced at Ely and the older woman shook her head in disbelief at Cirosa’s arrogance. But the crowd felt differently and cheered and clapped excitedly fo
r some time. Issa did not want to hear anymore and busied herself with her own thoughts, trying to close her ears as Cirosa droned on for another half an hour.
There came a moment of blessed silence that brought Issa back to the present. Cirosa now held up her faintly glowing staff and spoke in Old Celenian. She then led a procession away from the castle into the woods. The Priests and Priestesses fell in line, followed by the guests: a long snake of glittering candles trailing out behind her in the darkness. Ely, Issa and Freydel eventually joined the end to ensure no one fell behind or got lost, for night had fallen and there was no moon tonight.
The wine flowed sweetly in Issa’s veins, as she knew it must in the others around her, whose raucous behaviour earlier had now given way to silent reverence.
They had been walking for about half an hour through the dark woods when they stopped at a wide clearing in the trees before the river.
Issa followed the others to its edge and when her turn came followed Ely’s cue and carefully placed her candle in the tiny paper boats decorated with flowers. ‘For you, Mother,’ Issa whispered and watched it float amongst the others as it was carried downstream, a twinkling light in the darkness on its short journey to the sea.
‘It is meant as a gift,’ Ely whispered, ‘an offering of thanks to the Mother Goddess for her bounty. Though over the past few years that bounty has declined and crops have failed,’ she added, but said no more.
‘You know it’s funny,’ Issa said, ‘we used to do a similar thing at home around a bonfire at the Mid Summer Celebration, only we had paper lanterns which we let go into the air and watched the wind carry them up and away. I used to watch them until they were long gone,’ Ely smiled.
Issa watched the candles until they all disappeared. She imagined their journey upon the ocean, the candlelight shining down into the darkness until it was absorbed. She heard her name spoken but it came from far away and she wanted to stay and watch the candles.
