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…
