Bedtime Story: Reflections Of The Past: Fire: Chapter 26

Chapter 26 Midsummer's Eve Midsummer's Eve dawns with the mystery of the disappearing maidens and the removal of the relics no closer to being sold.

Mark my words there will be trickery afoot tonight,

Warns Duncan,

As Rosenwyn paused by the river to speak to him.

I do wish you would stop talking in riddles,

She snapped,

Then sighed.

The whole scenario was making her irritable and she was unable to muster the feeling of enthusiasm and sense of wonder she usually felt at times such as this.

The Midsummer Festival of the longest day,

Coupled with the ceremony of the full moon,

Made for a night of energy and magic.

Some said spirits would be abroad on this night,

Others that it was a time of working high magic,

And one or two insisted it was safer for all God- fearing people to remain in their beds.

She remembered the frown upon Father Christopher's face when he realised how the events were to coincide.

Remember many things are hidden or disguised,

Continued Duncan slowly,

Taking no notice of her tone,

Not always gone forever.

Rosenwyn sighed again,

Knowing she would get no more than him than he was willing to give,

And he felt a certain regret he could not tell her anymore.

His words as always came from deep within,

Like the bubbles which rose to the surface of the water,

And no one knew from whence they came,

Least of all Duncan himself.

From her vantage point at the chapel,

Rosenwyn watched the swallows sweeping glow over the land and skimming the surface of the water in their never- ending quest for insects.

Along the pathway,

Foxgloves grew tall and stately,

Their vivid shade of pink standing out amongst the greenery of high summer,

Buttercups shone like miniature suns,

And the lacy white of the cow-parsley mingled with the scent of meadow-sweet on the air.

Rosenwyn knew in her heart the time had arrived to consult the waters of the sacred well,

To ask for guidance,

And perhaps obtain some answers to recent events in the valley.

It was Midsummer's Eve,

A night of magic and anticipation of the day to come,

And Rosenwyn was aware the energies would be especially strong for scrying.

Finally,

When the chapel had been simply decorated in preparation for Midsummer's Day,

A froth of meadow-sweet and cow-parsley amidst which stood the tall stately foxgloves and a swathe of summer greenery,

Everyone left save for Rosenwyn.

With a sigh of relief to find a moment of peace following the hectic preparations,

As the sun began to set and the moon to rise,

Casting a silvery glow into the dusk,

She settled herself behind the sacred well and allowed her mind to still.

Silently,

From years of long practice,

She called forth the previous guardians of the well,

To whom she always turned in times of trouble,

And who never failed her.

There was a girl,

Her name lost in the mists of time,

Often seen holding a spear,

A great white owl sometimes upon her arm,

And there was a young woman,

Hair plaited with spring flowers,

Fire and smoke swirling about her,

Mischief in her eyes.

Around these two legends had been woven throughout the years,

Stories which had created the very fabric of the cult of the Maidens of the Wells,

For they were the first guardians,

And each had fought,

In her own way,

To retain the sacred waters for the feminine.

There was another.

Rosenwyn paused,

Wondering if she might see her on this day,

For she appeared only at times of great need.

Indeed,

Rosenwyn herself had never seen this guardian,

And only knew of her from whispers passed down through the generations.

It was said she was the most beautiful vision of all,

A wise and ancient spirit,

Who invariably left some signs she had been present.

Rosenwyn heaved a great sigh,

Thinking that if there was ever a time she needed guidance,

It was now.

Long moments passed,

The sun fading as the moonlight grew stronger.

Inside the stone structure of the sacred well,

The water continued to flow through the square granite basin,

And make its way into the chapel.

The stones above and around the surface of the water were a cool green,

Their reflections continually changing with the shimmering moonlight and shadow,

And a small brown frog swiftly made its way from one side to the other,

Only to disappear into the stonework once more.

All was quiet,

The perfect conditions for Rosenwyn to fall into a deep trance,

And connect the former guardians of the well.

Nothing happened.

It was as if no spirit resided there,

None ever had,

Nor ever would again.

After some time,

Rosenwyn experienced,

With a sinking heart,

The realisation she had failed.

Never before had this happened,

For even as a small child she was always able to see visions in the waters,

Even if only spending a few moments focusing.

And today,

In her greatest hour of need,

When she required help and guidance more than at any other time,

With a sob she pulled herself to her feet,

Struggling to fight back the tears,

Feeling,

For the first time in her life,

Completely useless,

Deserted and abandoned.

Stumbling to the front of the chapel and down to the riverbank,

Her eyes raked the length of the river,

Silver in the blackness of the surrounding shadows,

Hoping to catch a glimpse of Duncan,

Who she knew would soothe her words.

But of him there was no sign.

Nothing stirred,

Save the gentle swaying of the willows in the darkness and the swift movement of the water.

Never had Rosenwyn felt so alone in her life.

She sank to her knees,

Her dress wet and muddied.

Then,

Amongst the reeds and the meadowsweet,

She lay down and cried.

She wept for the loss of her vision,

The disappearance of her maidens,

And for the guardians who were no longer with her.

Where,

She asked herself in anguish,

Had they all gone?

After a while she became quiet,

Exhausted.

And it was then she felt the words in her mind.

Come.

Although Rosenwyn heard nothing spoken aloud,

The summons was unmistakable.

Sitting up and glancing around,

She saw no more than the riverbank in moonlight and the gently swaying meadowsweet on the far side.

Then slowly became aware this was no ordinary meadowsweet,

But formed the flowing gown of a woman.

Rosenwyn stared,

In trance,

As the vision grew more distinctive.

The woman's hair reflected the undulating swoop of wild birds on a summer morn,

And the flowers in her gown danced with coloured butterflies.

Come.

Once again Rosenwyn felt the summons,

Rose to her feet,

And stepped into the cool depths of the river to follow her vision.

For this,

She knew without a doubt,

Was the ancient guardian for which she had waited so long.

Rosenwyn took a deep breath and moved forwards,

Reaching out her hand towards the vision,

The icy water of the river drenching her dress as she began to wade across.

You will be safe with us.

The words lingered upon the night air as Rosenwyn felt an overwhelming sense of relief,

Of oneness with the world,

The universe,

And a certainty that in the end everything would become right.

Behind her she sensed a movement in the darkness of the night,

Nothing more than an owl swooping along the valley,

But enough to break the spell of the moment,

And Rosenwyn jerked out of her trance and back to the present,

Finding herself standing knee-deep in water,

Hands stretched before her.

You be careful now,

Duncan's low voice murmured in the velvet darkness.

He reached out and grasped her arm,

Guiding her back to reality and steadying her as she struggled to the safety of the riverbank.

Rosenwyn blinked,

Vaguely aware of the moonlit shadows and shifting greenery crossing Duncan's face in the semi-darkness.

I saw her,

She murmured,

I saw her,

She murmured,

Just as you saw the green man.

I saw the lady,

Fashioned from meadowsweet and the flight of butterflies and birds.

Her voice trailed away in wonder as Duncan continued to hold her,

Gently grounding her in the real world.

And what message did she leave?

She wanted me to go with her,

Rosenwyn blinked,

But how could I?

How could I leave my maidens?

Her voice trailed away and she began to cry quietly,

Realising how very much she had wished to follow the lady and leave the world behind her.

You be careful now,

Repeated Duncan.

Such portals only open in times of great need,

And once entered,

Lifetimes might pass before you're able to return.

He thoughtfully plucked a single stem of meadowsweet and presented it to her.

She will come again,

He stated simply,

Although when you will return to this world might be a different question.

Still stunned and half in a trance,

Rosenwyn took the meadowsweet from Duncan and leaving him amongst the moonlight and greenery,

Began to make her way up the grassy slope towards the chapel.

The little building glowed softly in the moonlight and her footsteps quickened,

For she felt the strong desire to be alone inside the chapel or beside the sacred well to ponder her thoughts.

She reached the chapel to find Duncan sitting quietly,

Gazing across the valley.

How,

What are you doing here?

Duncan regarded her with an air of quiet puzzlement.

Waiting for you,

He replied slowly.

There was a pause as the moonlight shone ever more brightly and an owl hooted in the distance.

You be careful now,

He continued.

This being a time of such magic and awe,

Even I wouldn't walk between the worlds on a night like this.

Rosenwyn glanced in confusion from Duncan to the deep shadows of the riverbank,

Recalling his words and the moonlight which had played across his face only moments before.

She thought of the green man and the guardian,

The disappearance of the maidens and the danger which surrounded them all.

And as the moon shone ever more brightly,

A slow understanding began to form in her mind.