First of all: blessed Imbolc, Candlemas, and (almost) New Moon & New Lunar Year!
So last week, Andrion stormed off to blow of some steam after having words with Falchion the Vizier. You can read this bit here.
This week as it turns out, he’s having an adventure that does much to help him make up his mind. Meanwhile Orydia spends her afternoon a lot less pleasantly….
XIV Song of Andrion -Noon
Out of the gates, away from Palace
Away from mother and sister
All of these whispering women
Lisping leaves and booming blossoms
Running like winds are my swift horses
Rolling like rocks avalanching
Rolling the wheels of my chariot
Outrunning anger, banishing
Rage from my heart, this burning
Sickness that lives in my stomach,
Bitter taste in my mouth
With the air from the plains
Dogs barking joyfully, happy
They can finally run outside
No longer trapped in their kennels
Sniffing the air full of promise
Out of the forested city
Out to the plains where wild horses
Still roam, their mane flying,
Free on the treeless plains
The lead stallion free to leap
Any mare of his choosing
He possesses her, yet she is
Free as he is, and runs with him
Mane streaming in the wind, as is
My hair, unbound it lashes my
Shoulders cooled in endless windrush
Wheels rattling, horses whinnying
Dogs barking at something they spotted
Goats are grazing the lush warm grass
Softly ringing bells of copper
Mingling with the cuckoo’s calling
Sweet the call of the girl shepherd
So well-rounded, skin sun-gilded
Dreaming on the dewy meadow
Feeling the Moon’s calling, pulling
I am welcome, for she knows me
Riding by she often saw me
And I embrace this golden goddess
Welcoming, not asking questions
And she softly undulating
Absolving, giving and forgiving
Spending on her rounded belly
Navel like a cup well-crafted
Insects critter on the grass leaves
Bees are buzzing, dogs are panting
As are we, sweet girl, and smiling
Peace is pulsing with our heartbeat
Reconciled with why all women
Are divine and must be cherished
Lying on your soothing bosom
Smelling your and Earth’s sweet fragrance
This is how I shall be living
Free of burden, full of loving
Goddess knows my deepest wishes
Trusting Her I shall be happy.
XV Song of Orydia: Siesta Daydream 1)
I can feel you, my sweet Palace, even dreaming
I can feel your channels open, your pores pouring forth
All consolation that is in you pulsing
Round me in my tower chamber
Where I have lived since I was little,
Where as a small girl I was playing
Compared to you we all are children, so old you are
And so vast
With whole forests within your courtyards, trees in your halls
The morning clouds rise from your fountains
The evening mist cloaks your towers
As this one, where now I am sleeping, not sleeping
Drifting and dreaming, not dreaming
During the noon’s humid heat
This dream of the child I was
Happily playing with her cats, dogs
Her little grumpy pony
And her big brother, Andrion, who said
As in the fairytales their mother sung them
He would never leave her, if she did not leave him,
And she would answer, not now, not never
As children do, what do they know of change?
And now my brow is frowning
My tears are flowing
For my body feels again the great and painful Change
That every princess girl has to endure
When she is ending her childhood
I had not yet left my dolls behind
When the New Moon’s breaking
Broke my body as on a rack
Tortured my limbs as on the wheel
My hair was torn out of my scalp
Like a net drawn out of the sea
Abundantly filled with glittering fish
As my sudden mane absurdly long and
Glittering with the blood dripping from the roots
The childish cheeks disappeared, high cheekbones protruded
The babyish bellyfat pushed above and below
Into virgin breasts, full and proud
As twin moons with nipples as bleeding volcanoes
A ribcage curved as angel’s wings
A navel rounded as a well-crafted cup,
Waist cinched in, slender as a willow tree
As the sacred palm
Hipbones pushed outwards excruciating
Bent outwards as if by giant hands
Rounding my buttocks, stretching the skin like a drum
My arms and legs extended, coltish and narrow
Elegant and princess-like my bones were pulled out
I bled from my very eyes, from every pore
But most of all from between my legs
Where there was a dark cave that had always been there
But that suddenly seemed alive with secrets
And the entrance crawling with strange new vegetation
My womb filled with pain and shock
Bleeding out as a weeping wound
How I screamed, screamed for my mother, my brother
My mother held me, but I would not calm down
The Wise One soothed me, but I kept sobbing
For fear of this horrifying change, this superhuman force
Breaking my body, my childhood
I already knew it had ended
But I wept most of all
For my brother, who would not come
Who did not listen to me
Who abandoned his own sister
And woefully betrayed me
For when I came out of my sacred seclusion
When the pain had abated and I had learned to
Walk again, no longer skipping, but smoothly gliding
Hips swaying, buttocks billowing, adjusting to the feel
Of breasts lightly bouncing
And my new clothes had been fitted, the full flounced skirts
The corseted girdle, embroidered in gold
Narrowly clasping my waist
Supporting my newly-deep bosom
And my hair braided and supported
But my eyes shy and mournful
The Palace hushed, the courtiers held their breath
At seeing Orydia all grown, her childhood promises fullfilled
Tall and slender, delightful, seductive
Still unaccustomed to my long legs
As a newborn fawn, tentatively picking its way
On its soft little hooves
My big dark deer eyes seeing everything anew
Everything, except my brother
Who shied away from me
Andrion, in whose lap I used to sleep
Who cuddled when the nights were cold
Went swimming with me, rubbed me dry after
Always caring or simply being with me
Now kept his distance
And I understood that everything had changed
We were children no more, were no longer at one
I even saw that this was painful for him as well
But I needed him then more than ever
His slim hard body
That in my innocence I had loved as my own
And even more so now, for it was so much
More familiar than my own newly found womanhood
He still was my brother, still gentle
But other girls started catching his eye now
As mine was caught by other men
My body starting to find its function, its pleasure
As was his no doubt
This is as it should be between brother and sister
But still the pain of this tremendous change
And his shocking betrayal
Rages in me and spoils my dreams
Of my unspoiled childhood
How I long for those days, my dear Palace
How I long for those days
XVI Song of Andrion – Evening
The slanted evening light is reflected in the golden
Trappings of the princely pair of horses
Going at a brisk but easy pace, already smelling
Those Royal Stables that Andrion discussed that morning
With his mother’s Vizier, the wise Falchion.
Since then he has calmed down considerably, but is
Still confused by the sudden turn his life has taken
And unsure of how to feel exactly. He suspects
He will still get very angry, if asked to have a conversation
About this matter with his mother. So he is relieved that she
Is in seclusion, preparing for the Full Moon Rite, when
Love’s blessing will be given to all the land and all its people.
And a blessing it is, as he has found this day. His brow is smooth,
His mind calm. He feels grounded, his senses soothed yet sharpened.
So he quickly notices the Palace atmosphere has sweetened
It seems to feel the Moon has waxed to bursting
And priests, priestesses and Earth herself are preparing
To celebrate this monthly feast each in their own way.
But beneath all this quiet excitement there is a tone
Of peace, of smoothing reconciliation. It seems the Palace itself
Is trying to restore the balance, which is so touching
He almost feels a tear stinging his eye, and on entering
The stable yard he pats and rubs its great door posts, as he would do
A horse that quietly has done its best to show love to its master
And deserves appreciation. But the House is more than that
An old, old friend, a second mother almost, an ongoing mystery.
So after seeing to his horses, having them brushed and fed
And the dogs as well, Andrion leisurely makes his way
To his quarters, whistling softly, carefree for the moment.
On his way he spots his sister, Orydia, taking the evening air
In one of the many gardens. This one is shaded by a vine
Slowly strangling the elm trees that have been led to grow
Into a pleasant pergola, a tunnel, leading to a charming folly
Wherein the princess sits on silken cushions, absently stroking
A little cat, and nibbling on some sweets. So perfect is this image
So pure in all its aspects, but marred by the frown Orydia is wearing
Apparently deep in none too pleasant thought. Andrion hesitates,
Only for a moment, then heads for his sister. She sees him with
Surprise, and smiles tentatively. He sits down with crossed legs,
Teases the cat, pinches her fondants, until her frown lifts and they
Are at ease together. The prince smiles fondly at his sister. None
Of all this has been her fault. So he asks how she is feeling, and
Orydia answers with words such as follow: “Dear brother, I
Have been feeling all kinds of things. Rage, fear, sadness, pain,
Disappointment, and also a detached curiosity as to why
On the green Earth all this can be happening. And I am certain
That you have felt such things as well.” She looks at him
Inquiringly. “You are right, my sister,” says the prince,
“I have indeed felt such emotions, even though the situation
Is very different to us each, and heavier on you. Harsh words
I have spoken to wise Falchion, and I still stand by them. But I
Have been outside today, and I feel calmer now. So let me ask
Orydia: what I can do to make my sister feel better?” Orydia
Is greatly confused by his fond words, for she expected
To be at odds with him, as anyone else seems to expect. If it were
She, asking this question, he would be well advised to expect
Some intrigue. But he is nothing like her, and so she answers frankly:
“I thank you for even thinking of asking me this. No one else
Has, so far. Not even our mother, the Wise One, or Falchion,
Not even one of my maids. Only this kitten is purring at me
And pricking my hands with playful tiny claws
Like nothing has changed, but everything has. I do not know,
Andrion, what you could do for me. It is out of our hands.
All wounds will heal in time, and scars make thicker skin.”
Her brother smiles, for she is being acquiescing, while
Underneath that supposedly thickening skin of hers
A fire clearly rages, that will erupt one day to devastate
All in its path. Is she being brave, or devious, or both?
He is in a mood to be delighted by her doubleness
Instead of irritated. “I just want you to know,” he says soothingly
Responding to her feelings rather than her words,
“That I have no quarrel with you. This is none of your doing.
Whatever this Prophecy means, and what Spirit wants-“
“So what do you propose to do?” she asks him somewhat
Sharply. He hesitates, uncertain if he can yet reveal
The plan he thought of on the treeless plain, where he could
Breathe and not feel smothered. “Come, tell me.” And so he does
After taking a deep breath: “I think it would be best if I could
Leave the Palace for a while, to get some air and clear my mind,
And find the one that I can be, not by fighting fate, but see
What the world is like, what there is to learn from it, instead
Of cowering like a pampered child, safely shut inside for all
My life. Besides –“ She wants to interrupt, but he won´t let her,
“Besides, you need some space as well, to regroup, consider your
Position, to grow unhindered, and above all, not to give all
Those bored courtiers the chance to play us out against each other.
And so we will be able to continue to think about each other with
Affection, and on my return I will be proud to see how you have fared.”
And so Andrion speaks on, to her great consternation, but she
Hides this even from herself. She coolly observes him, wondering
How he can be so calm and determined, and wise, not a trace
Of the quarreling he did this morning, as she heard rumoured,
And that he mentioned just now. He has not spoken to Savandra,
Not without her knowing, so something else has happened, which,
Knowing him, was probably a woman. She almost smiles,
But checks it and transforms it into a different kind of smile:
Not mocking, but lovely. “That sounds like a wise plan, dear brother,
I am proud of you. I know you wish no quarrel with me.
And I will do my utmost best to make it so, whether you stay
At court or not.” “Promise?” he grins. “Promise,” she answers
And they spit on it, like they did as children. They embrace,
And Andrion leaves to wash and eat a bit, strolling away easily,
Leaving his sister whose heart is boiling. So this is what those
Mad snakes have done: her brother is leaving her, again.
And so, still grieving, she feels deep down the first seed of a plan.
XVII Oracle Chant (unheard)
Chorus of Serpents:
Silence keeps our shrine serene
We the sacred serpents sing
No one hears what we have seen
1st Serpent:
We have sown the seeds of fate
We have sung for love or hate
We see all plans are too late
2nd Serpent:
See the short-lived humans run
To escape what must be done
Or to have what others won
3rd Serpent:
This is only a begin
Some will lose and others win
Our song we cannot unsing
Chorus of Serpents:
When the seeds we sang are grown
Fate and fortune will be shown
What is now hid will be known
1 ) A note on Song XV, Orydia reliving the trauma of her sudden-onset puberty. This is one of the themes that I mighthave thought through a bit more. At the time of writing I wanted to explore the effects of a sudden change into adulthood, the effects of a hyperbolically accelerated growing up, as a logical consequence of coming from a long line of fertility priestesses.
But in hindsight I can see that it could be problematic from our own modern viewpoint, to have a very young girl suddenly be considered an adult, in body & spirit. I have certainly not meant to imply that this is a desirable state of affairs, both in Orydia’s world & in ours.
Nor have I meant this trauma to be at the root of her character traits, although it is fair to say that it does colour her actions. And so it also serves to explore the consequences of involuntary dedication, a theme that will run across the story in other instances as well.
Next week: it’s Andrion’s turn to dream, fuelled by the approaching Full Moon Rite… Or is there more to his vision?
