Last week Andrion announced he wants to leave the Palace, to clear his mind & to avoid being drawn into conflict with his sister, much to Orydia’s dismay. You can read this bit here.

This week we head into the last night before the day of the all-important Full Moon rite. More dreams, and more revelations…

Enjoy!

 

XVIII Song of Andrion – Midnight

 

Such a strange day this has been, full

Of anguish and of pleasure both

And now I rest my weary head on

My fresh linen pillow, my brow cooled

By the nightly breeze

But still the warmth keeps me from sleeping

The creeping of the growing tendrils

The rustling of the opening buds

Of the snow white night blossoms, that only

Open when the Moon gets full, a wonder to see

Exhaling a fragrance so strong and pure

That on another night I would step out on the balcony

To see their white hearts aglow, spreading sweetness

To the sleeping world below

But not now, for my limbs are still heavy

With my quarrel and other excercise

So I lie dozing, dreaming of pleasant things

Such as the coming Major Rite that will

Excite all men and women at the Palace

So pleasure will be had by all

Quite possibly including me, with some

Young priestess or court lady

That we will love and bless each other

And the land

 

So I dream, and presently am dreaming

I am in a woodland temple

Dark but lit by perfumed candles

Musicians can be heard, not seen

Strangely, the courtyard is a steaming pond

Filled with dark green forest water

Smelling of oak leaves and of musty Earth

And I wonder how to cross it

When a young and slender priestess

Dressed in her hair and juwels

And very little else

Comes out of the inner shrine

Like an ancient princess out of a tomb

Old and alien gemstones catch the candle light

In their deeply coloured depths

Gold circles her wrists and forehead

Her nipples are gilt as well

And they move alluringly

When she descends the temple steps

Down to the flooded courtyard

Which she crosses by walking over it

As if it is but a dark jade floor

Gliding gracefully towards me

When she stands before me

Overwhelmingly perfumed

With roses, musk and something oyster-like

She looks at me with eyes that give the lie

To her youthful appearance

So wise, seductive, and still innocent

She speaks in lilting temple chant

 

‘Come my beloved

You are the Sun

I am the Moon

Let us bless the land

And each other’

 

And she hands me a precious goblet

That was not in her hand before

I drink from it, and I who thought

My loins could not be more

Filled with longing for this

Utterly entrancing woman

Feel a fire shooting down

Unbearibly burning

Below my navel

While she takes the cup

And drinks as well

She closes her eyes

Shivering

And when she opens them

They shine with a wild fire

That makes me forget everything

About ritual and courtship

And I make to simply grab her

But she smiles and takes my hand

Drawing me towards the

Deep dark water

Takes my face between her small warm hands

Pulls it down

And kisses me

And keeps pulling and kissing

Until we tumble, kissing still

Into the warm green water

And we go down, deep down

Endlessly falling, carried by

This forest-smelling water

For it can be breathed and tasted

This is so overwhelming to my senses

This all-pervading, warmly smelling

Dark green light

That carries us still down

And still the girl is kissing me

Pressing herself tightly to me

Opening herself to me

And I enter

Falling, falling

Clasped in her arms I clasp her

Tiny waist, my fingers lost

In her dark hair

My mouth thirsting for her

Gold little breasts

United we swim

Jointly we fall

Deeper and deeper

Into joy

Into trance

Into endlessness

Into darkness

Into sleep

 

XIX Hymn to Sun & Moon – Morning

O Sun, who gives us every morning’s light

You who kiss the Moon, your own chosen bride

Your glowing face that blesses our sweet day

Will blaze all darkness and all pain away

 

O Moon, whose sun-kissed face lights up the night

Who always is a loving lover’s guide

You fill my womb with passion and with love

For my love who is like the Sun above

 

When we unite, our union will be blessed

When you, O Moon, will also be caressed

By Sun’s strong beams that quicken all that lives

And all lights up with all the love he gives

 

We humble priests and priestesses take part

Giving love ourselves, opening our hearts

To bless each other, to bless all the land

So it will grow and prosper without end

 

XX Song of the Palace – Morning

 

The Palace positively glows in the golden morning mist,

Proudly stretching its towers, rounding its domes

Preening after a good night’s work.

Has not everyone slept well, with very pleasant dreams?

Is not everyone going at their work, just as they always did?

Princess Orydia herself, she who was so angry

And so sad the last few days, has already picked up

Her studies, and has been in the Library since before dawn.

Her brother Andrion has slept soundly, feeling better

The whispering of the courtiers has gone quiet,

And all is as it was before. The Palace breathes more

Easily, its friendly, simple mind –if it has any- is happy

That it could be of assistance. The darkness has been

Dispelled. So now the House and its court continue

Doing what they always did: preparing for the next feast.

 

Which, as it happens, will be tonight: the Major Rite at

Full Moon. But of course, the human inhabitants

Of the Living Palace will effortlessly undo all

Its attempts at peace and reconciliation, restless

As they are, always seeking solutions before there

Even is a problem. Which probably is why Savandra,

Who is supposed to be in seclusion, sends for her son,

Brave Andrion. When he enters the room where she

Has been meditating, fasting, drumming and singing for

A day and a night, he sees her kneeling on her cushion

Her hair laid out behind her, trailing to the wall, where

It lies piled up in careful coils. Fresh and young she looks

Not primped, painted and bejeweled, her eyes radiant, and

The life force she has been gathering pulses around her,

Emanating power that makes him bow respectfully, hand

On brow. He sits down before her on the floor, for she

Cannot stand with her hair unsupported. He wants to speak

But she raises a slim hand, and speaks words such as follow:

 

“My dear son, I see you are well this morning, and I am

Glad of it. I know that this week’s news has been hard on you.

I cannot change what has been sung, nor any words that were

Spoken. It will take time for you to adjust’ – he frowns, but

She continues unheeding – “and to find your feet again,

After they were knocked from under you. To help you

Find your purpose, I will propose to the Council

That you begin forthwith your advanced training to

Become a senior priest, to the Goddess or, if you prefer,

One of Her major consorts. Not one of the eunuch ones,”

She adds hastily. “You have never been useless,

Or of less importance, but you have been drifting for

Too long. When you will take this sacred task in hand

You likely will regain your confidence, and be at peace

With who you really are.” Andrion has been studying

The floor while his mother spoke. Still looking down,

He speaks words like the following: “Dear mother,

O Wise One, I know you have never meant me any pain.

And I thank you for your concern for me. But if you really

Trusted me, as a man, you would let me choose my

Own path. You cannot still make my choices for me

And expect me to believe you give me consequence.

 

Mother, I am grown, and I am making my own plans

To do myself proud, to make you proud. This was not

Your fault. You do not need to apologize, especially not

By fighting my battles for me.” He smiles

Suddenly at her, to take the sting out of his words.

 

“This night and day, you have been in communion

With the Mother Tree, the Goddess. Your mind

Is on higher things, so I understand this plan you made.

But allow me to point out what the consequence of it

Would be. If I were a priest to one of the lesser shrines

Or the great one for that matter, I would sooner or later

Participate in the Major Rite, or even the Great one.

When the priestesses realize this, they would vie for

The honour of having me as consort, and, Goddess willing,

Conceiving. Or even me falling in love and marrying one of them.

Every mother in the land would be putting their daughters

In my way. Well, they will anyway, but in a temple this

Would not be right. Even the most sacred duty would be

A source of intrigue. Not even mentioning how I would feel

If this were to happen. I would not feel better, but worse.”

 

He stops when he sees Savandra’s stricken look. It hits him

Like a blow. He feels the colour draining from his face

His scalp shivering. Pain clenches his throat. He huskily

Whispers: “Did you send me that dream last night?

About the temple ritual?” She stares, and stammers:

“Dream? What dream?” But he has already risen and

Is heading for the door. “Andrion!” she calls, despairing,

Adding in a whisper, for he is already gone, “I only want

What will be best.” A single tear falls in her lap. But then

She sighs and once more takes up her priestess drum

And soon it fills the room with its entrancing hum.

 

Next week: On the day of the Full Moon feast Orydia has a meeting with Fate, and makes sure that everyone else will, too…