Guardians of the Grove

Guardians of the Grove

Book One of the Bow Maiden Chronicles

By J. W. Davis

Copyright © 2015 J. W. Davis

All rights reserved.

Cover Design by Lance Willaims

Contents

Prologue

Under the Willow

The Maiden Festival

A Queen's Vanity

The Unexpected Road

A Queen's Anger

Guardians of the Grove

A Queens Vengeance

Initiation

Parting Ways

Alesandra's Revelation

The Exodus

The Blood Maiden

A Drunk Monk

The Shunning

Ascetic Monks

Darius

The Fires of War

Tree of Creation

Envoy Duty

Mamau

Sidai

Daughter of Suffering

Nuella

Prophecy

The Brotherhood

Prologue

Alesandra ruffled the ears of the smallest wolf pup. The little female growled at her. You are a cranky one aren't you? Alesandra liked to talk to the animals under her care. Some poor maiden is going to have her hands full bonding with you little one. She patted her on the rump trying to appease her bad temper, but the little pup snapped at her fingers, making Alesandra laugh aloud. The mother was anxious over the runt's agitation, so Alesandra moved over to reassure her. I will not harm your little ones, mother. Alesandra reassured her with some scratches behind the ears. The mother lowered her ears enough to enjoy the gentle clawing until a horn blew. Her ears sprang erect from the loud blast, and Alesandra sighed at the interruption. She did not want to attend the Divining Ceremony.

Alesandra looked up at the moon, and the bright halo that encircled their Mistress, the Goddess Semali. The halo demanded a divining for prophecy, and she was required to attend. Alesandra watched her fellow sisters make their way across the main courtyard, but she purposely lingered waiting until the last possible moment. These ceremonies make me as anxious as a doe with a timber wolf licking her tail. Alesandra did not like the uncertainty of divining. She preferred the simple stalls and pens of the livery.

Alesandra decided she had waited long enough, and began her trek to the Divination Temple. She felt her sandals dragging on the cobblestone walk. They are as reluctant as I am, she chortled. The temple was a large unassuming building with few adornments. The stone-carved façade panels represented the creation and ascension of the First Born, but there was little decoration elsewhere. Wisps of blue smoke rose from the opening in the ceiling out into the night. They rolled carelessly in the light breeze and disappeared, but the smell of acrid herbs filled the courtyard. The fragrant pots for the ceremony were burning below. All the mistresses of the temple were making their way down into the ceremonial hall.

Alesandra was one of the last to descend through the carved columns. Several bow maidens followed her down the portico stairwell. The steps leading down to the entrance were narrow slabs of roughly hewn granite. The torches outside the entrance flickered in the faint wind, and the shadows across the stone steps danced frantically in the narrow passage. The gloomy entrance suited her mood. Alesandra was the last mistress to enter the divination chamber. She paused just inside looking for a relatively obscure location to observe the ceremony. The door was shut behind her by the bow maidens. She heard them bar the door. Most of the mistresses were moving around to the opposite side. Alesandra went in the opposite direction, along the wall, and found a spot near an alcove where she could watch unobstructed.

Mistresses packed around the inner chamber waiting for the ceremony to begin. The mistresses were in small groups, whispering among themselves. Everyone appeared anxious for the ceremony to begin. The inner chamber was ringed with white pillars around a sacrificial altar in the center, and a smaller divination altar that rested under an opening to the sky. Spectators stood on polished granite flooring in the outer chamber, but the inner chamber was an exposed dirt floor so the All Mother would be present during the ritual. None could enter the center of the chamber save the four performing the divining ritual. Alesandra coughed as she inhaled the air thick with smoke from the fragrant burning pots. She could feel the weight of each breath. The warm smoky air made breathing laborious. She backed up a few steps toward the alcove next to a small statue of Semali, flanked by two wolves. The air seemed less sooty in the alcove.

Both altars were being carefully examined and prepared. It will begin soon. All four of the mistresses performing the divination paused as if in prayer around the Altar of Sacrifice. The Songweaver, the two Soothers, and the Diviner all nodded to one another. The Diviner was not the Priestess, but one of the Chosen apprentices. This gave Alesandra pause. It was unusual for the Priestess to delegate a divining to an apprentice. Divining under a Prophetic Moon was one of their most sacred ceremonies.

The Diviner called forth the sacrifice, and everyone's attention turned to the back of the temple toward the Sacrament Room. Alesandra took a step forward so she could watch the entrance of the sacrifice. She wasn't sure which doe was chosen for tonight. The Chosen selected three from the stables, but only one would be sacrificed. A small chestnut doe passed through the Sacrament Door into the outer chamber. Alesandra recognized the playful doe. This little one had just lost her spots, Alesandra recalled. A good choice perhaps, but losing her playful presence from the livery made Alesandra a bit sad. Sacrifices were always maidens. The doe cannot have the spots of childhood nor can she be despoiled by a buck. The doe was startled after the Mistress Alma closed the door to the Sacrament Room, but when she noticed the crowd of people around her, she began to buck and attempted to flee. Mistress Alma held the hemp rope close to the nape of the neck and against her thigh, trying to rein in her fear and keep the doe under control.

Once Mistress Alma had the young doe under control, she led her up to the inner chamber and waited. She continued to hold the leash tight to her side, preventing the doe from looking about. The two Soothers retrieved the startled doe coaxing her toward the altar, dragging her when she became stubborn. The doe's small hooves furrowed the soil as they dragged her. She relented after a few paces, and walked the rest of the way with occasional reluctance. After they reached the altar, they lifted the timid doe and laid her on her side. She thrashed wildly but the Soothers soon calmed her. Her small body heaved once more on the grey stone, but the Soothers promptly calmed the frightened doe. They stroked her fur and whispered into her ear, but she remained one sudden noise away from bolting into the crowd. The muscles in her small limbs still twitched violently and her eyes were wide and darting. The darling creature doesn't seem agreeable to her fate. It's not a good sign.

To assist in calming the sacrifice, one of the Soothers retrieved soothing pots from a cavity beneath the altar and placed them near the doe. The pots held relaxing herbs in bee's wax. Alesandra looked into the frightened eyes gazing directly at her. She wished she could reassure the small creature and offer her comfort. She felt a tinge of sorrow that she could not reach out to her and reassure her, but doing so could corrupt the divination. It wasn't long before the room was filling with the relaxing scent of Jasmine and Blue Cedar from the soothing pots. The Soothers continued stroking the doe until calmness came over her and the twitching muscles relaxed. When she was calm enough, the Songweaver began the Song of Sacrifice. She leaned over the doe, her lips just above the ear, and the chamber went deathly silent. Alesandra could see her lips moving as she weaved the song, but she could not hear her voice. As the Songweaver rose above the doe, the song rose as well. Alesandra heard the woven song as it rose with a steady soft cadence. The Songweaver reminded Alesandra of a mother singing a lullaby. Songweavers are blessed with the most divine voices. Alesandra closed her eyes and let herself slip into the magic of the song. She felt like she was walking in the deep forest surrounded by tall pines. Beams of light poured through the canopy, offering illuminated warmth to the bed of ferns. The wind whispered to the trees as a stream waded through rocks off in the distance. Alesandra took a deep breath and opened her eyes. It was divine.

The song continued and everyone appeared captivated by the weaving. The weaving slowed and the Songweaver bent over the doe whose eyes were finally calm and blinking slowly. For several more moments the chorus continued. The lingering notes began to slip back into a whisper as the Diviner retrieved a sacramental dagger from below her robe and moved to the head of the altar obstructing Alesandra's view. She was glad to be spared viewing what was about to come. The two Soothers continued stroking and comforting the doe. As the last note of the Song of Sacrifice hung in the air, the Diviner slipped one hand over the eyes of the doe and with the other, slid the blade across her throat. Her movements were swift, and the blade made no sound as it passed through her throat ending the flow of life.

There was a momentary attempt at a scream from the doe, and her small legs thrashed twice as the Soothers held her and whispered soothing voices into the air. Thrashing did not bode well for the divining, but the doe soon calmed. These were conflicting signs. The Diviner bent over the dying creature and whispered into her ears as her life flowed through the grooved granite of the altar and into the Vase of Renewal. Alesandra watched the viscous fluid flow freely over the side and into the vase. All the energy and essence of the doe's short life accumulated inside. Her essence was essential for the libations to the All Mother and Sky Father in order to obtain their blessing.

When all signs of life ceased, the Diviner moved along the side of the altar and began the grisly task of removing the organs. After some effort cutting through the ribcage, the heart and lungs were removed. After a brief examination, the Diviner discarded the lungs into a woven basket, and the heart was placed on the Divining Tray. Sacred designs decorated the wood tray. The carvings around the outer edge depicted the thirteen cycles of the lunar calendar, along with their ruling emotions. Next, the Diviner placed the pancreas beside the heart. She removed the liver last and carefully positioned it beside the pancreas. She took great care positioning the liver, as it was critical to the divining. Her arms were drenched in blood up to her elbows as she placed the ceremonial blade upon the altar. The stone blade gave a dull clink on the granite that rang out into the chamber. The Diviner bowed her head to the sacrifice, in reverence for her gift, before taking the divination tray to the Divining Altar. Dozens of candles illuminated the altar. The Diviner arranged the tray in the center of the altar before lighting the two divining pots. Thick blue vapor lofted into the air from the large pots. The flames shifted from blue to orange and spewed a continuous stream of smoke up through the opening in the roof. Once the diviner was satisfied with the flames, she returned to the front of the altar and knelt in prayer.

While the Diviner prepared her divination, the soothers removed the doe to the Sacrament Room to prepare her for interment. The sacrificed doe needed cleansing before she could be laid to rest. The Soothers anointed the sacrifice with oils and wrapped her in a hemp shroud, dyed black, with thirteen sacred moons embossed in white. Once the doe was carefully cared for, she would be interred at Mother's Womb so she could be reborn with honors. Bow maidens would deliver the honored doe to the sacred cave. It was days to the north, hidden in the Jagged Mountains. Bow maidens guarded this valley day and night.

After the Diviner began her sacred prayer, the Songweaver lifted the Vase of Renewal and began another weaving as she made her way to the Divining Altar. She was singing a Song of Blessing asking the Sky Father to bless the memory of the doe and her sacrifice in order to hasten her return. As she wove the song, she poured the doe's blood into the Divining Pots and they hissed wildly as black billows of smoke surged up through the roof into the night sky. When both pots were satiated, the Songweaver poured the remaining blood onto the soil, as libations for the All Mother before resting the vase on the altar. She continued to weave her song as she knelt behind the Diviner letting the weave trail off into silence.

When the song ended, the Diviner lifted her head and began examining the heart. This would be the easiest to interpret. When the diviner finished with the heart, she ran her fingers along the length of the pancreas sizing up its proportions. The Diviner took an unusual amount of time on the pancreas. Alesandra thought the diviner looked frustrated. The Diviner pulled two candles closer to the tray before she turned her attention to the liver. The liver was the most complicated and difficult to ascertain. She had to interpret thirteen segments representing each lunar cycle. Each segment had a corresponding constellation with a ruling emotion. The complexity was endless. Divining always made Alesandra uneasy, but this one was unusually unnerving. There was something about the moon tonight. The Mistress loomed full in an ominous sky with an amber glow of rage. Coupled with the doe's reluctant journey, the signs did not seem favorable. Alesandra had no talent for divining. She preferred the simplicity of caring for animals.

The Diviner lowered her head staring at the ground. She wasn't studying the entrails any longer. Considerable time passed before she stood and turned to face the crowd. Her head hung for a few moments before announcing her decree.

The heart is small and the pancreas is scarred far into the past and long into the future. The signs are muddled and conflicting. There is no way to decipher their meaning without directly consulting our Mistress for guidance. I need our Mother's Milk, so I may join with the First Daughter.

Murmurs filled the chamber as mistresses became alarmed. Alesandra was already ill at ease. She was trying to contemplate the meaning of the decree, when a shout rang from the other side of the temple.

Silence! A mistress stepped out from the shadows. It was the Priestess. Do not disrupt this ceremony with your foolish speculations, she reprimanded.

Why hadn't she done the divining? Alesandra could see the same question on the faces of many of her sisters. Mother's Milk was rarely used outside of the Day of Ascension ceremony or the Festival of Renewal. Alesandra hated when her apprehensions waxed true.

Mistress Alma. In the Room of Sacraments, you'll find the sacred decanter. Please retrieve the Mother's Milk for the Diviner. The Priestess appeared solemn, but Alesandra could sense her underlying anxiety.

Mistress Alma bowed her head slightly. Yes, Priestess, she replied before hurrying to the Sacraments.

Mistress Alma returned after a few moments carrying the Sacred Decanter. Alesandra recalled the numerous times she had seen it up close and its mesmerizing beauty. Carved from a single lapis stone, the blue translucent stone had opaque rivers creating cloudy streams. Tiny veins of silver fanned out around the base, imitating roots for the central carving of an elder tree. The canopy encircled the decanter with interwoven leaves. They were so intricate, they appeared to move as the decanter was passed around. There were numerous creatures, including blacktail running below its boughs. The sky looked both turbulent and gentle, like a sky that followed an angry rain. The handle was fashioned as a forest wolf. The head rested near the base giving the wolf the appearance of chasing the fleeing blacktail. The lid was carved from agate in the shape of the moon. The reddish amber color mimicked the Blood Moon. The entire scene so captivated Alesandra, that the first time she held the decanter, her friend had to nudge her before she passed it along. It still has that effect on me today, she thought as she watched Mistress Alma bring it to the inner chamber.

Mistress Alma knelt and held the Sacred Decanter before her in reverence. The Songweaver retrieved the decanter. She quietly thanked Mistress Alma before taking the precious liquid to the Diviner. This was our most sacred gift and greatest secret. Mother's Milk allowed the imbiber to move through the Stream of Life into the Realm of Dreams where a mistress could speak to the Goddess Semali. This is how the guardians sought guidance during troubled times.

Alesandra remembered her first time using Mother's Milk. The thick fluid was bitter at first followed by the sweet taste of honey and a fruity after taste that lingered after she swallowed. It was terrifying taking that first gulp no matter how much she was reassured. The fluid mulled in her stomach like a smoldering hearth and all the tension in her body melted away. There was a brief moment when she felt like retching, but it passed and her whole body flooded with a stream of warmth. Soon the joy of the All Mother washed over her, and she could feel the world slipping away. She had an overwhelming urge to laugh aloud, but she held it at bay. The world around her shimmered as if it were no longer real, and she wanted to touch everything about her to assure herself of its existence. She felt herself loft like the smoke rising from the incense pots, lifting her above the trees where she swam through the sky, beyond the birds, all the way to embrace the Mistress herself. It was the most divine thing she had ever experienced, and why she decided to devote her life to the temple.

When the Songweaver reached the Diviner, they both knelt facing one another. The Songweaver removed the amber lid and handed the decanter to the Diviner. She held the decanter a moment then tilted her head back and swallowed a mouthful before returning the decanter to the Songweaver. They both bowed their heads as the Songweaver returned the lid on the decanter and began weaving a song. Alesandra could not make out the weaving. She sang almost silently, but occasionally her voice would carry enough that it would tease Alesandra's ears.

The Songweaver continued her song uninterrupted as the ceremony proceeded. The Diviner was swaying to the weave. The entire temple watched in silence as the Diviner succumbed to the Mother's Milk. The Priestess was no longer standing back in the shadows of the small alcove. She moved to the edge of the inner chamber close to the Diviner and Songweaver. The Diviner's body continued to sway. A few mumbles could be heard above the weaver's song, but she was silent otherwise. This went on for a long while and the torches began to burn low. The Diviner looked exhausted. Just when Alesandra thought the Diviner might collapse, she opened her eyes wide and looked around the room as if she were lost and trying to find her way. The Songweaver stopped singing and helped her to her feet.

Hear the words from our Mistress! the Diviner called out. Alesandra jumped with the sudden onslaught of her voice. Novice, she chided herself embarrassed. The Diviner scanned the temple looking into the faces of her sisters. There is an evil that walks among us. His soul is corrupted and his mouth consumes the world. His hunger shall devour the Daughters of Semali and corrupt the Sacred Grove forever lest the Mother of Hope is found with her Daughter of the Forest. She will be known to us by her burning red hair. Only she can satiate his hunger and save the Sacred Grove from destruction.

No sooner had the word destruction passed through her lips, the Diviner collapsed, but the Songweaver caught her. She helped her over to the outer chamber where the Priestess was standing. Alesandra looked around the room and saw mostly fear and unrest. All accept the Priestess whose brows were furrowed in thought. This is not good, Alesandra thought. Bad omens and ambiguous revelations. That is the problem with dreams. Their cryptic messages do you little good. Most meanings cannot be gleaned until after the gift of hindsight.

The ceremony is complete, the Priestess announced. Everyone return to your housing or duties as such may be.

With that pronouncement, the knock on the door was placed, and it was unbarred. The mistresses began filing out of the temple in a state of bewilderment. Alesandra could see the confusion on her fellow sisters' faces, and their trepidations mirrored in each other's eyes. The mood was gloomy.

Tomorrow is going to be delightful, she grumbled.

Alesandra made her way to the top of the steps and began to cross the courtyard to the livery. She didn't make it far, when she paused, thinking someone had called her name. She cocked her head back toward the Divining Temple to listen and again a voice rang out calling her name but louder.

Mistress Alesandra!

Alesandra turned to find the serious face of a bow maiden. Bow maidens were always too serious.

Yes maiden, what can I do for you?

There is a messenger at the gate. He begs an audience with you. He claims to be a servant of your sister, but he is male mistress. We cannot allow him inside.

Of course not, Alesandra agreed. Tell him to return on the morrow. I have too much to do tonight.

I told him as much already mistress, and explained you were in ceremony, but he insists that the message be delivered tonight.

Alesandra was not pleased about the sudden shift in her plans, especially on a night as this, but she could not turn away an urgent message. An urgent message this time of night meant something had to be wrong. She banished any negative thoughts of ill news before they fermented in her mind.

Very well. Lead on maiden.

Much needed to be done before Alesandra would find rest tonight, and this detour was only going to make the night that much longer. A bit of irritation crept into her sleepy mind, and she could not help succumbing to agitation. Her steps landed a bit harder and faster as they moved closer to the gate. When they rounded the corner of the adherent’s dormitory, the Prophetic Moon was low on the horizon just above the defensive walls with the halo arcing high above the shadowed tree line.

What misery have you revealed to us tonight, Mistress? she thought aloud.

Mistress? the bow maiden said confused, halting their progress.

Just thinking aloud, maiden. Please proceed. Alesandra assured the young maiden, but she was anything but assured. Prophecies of doom were unsettling to most everyone. It was better to leave such matters to the gods.

The maiden nodded her understanding, but she still looked at Alesandra in confusion. She turned to continue their trek to the east gate and looked over her shoulder at Alesandra a few times as they went. Alesandra considered giving her further explanation but dismissed the idea. She was still trying to find an explanation for herself. She could not stop looking at the moon. This divination would bring about a great deal of turmoil, but there was nothing to be done about that.

The gate was standing open with a bow maiden on either side. Just outside the gate, she could make out a boy nearing manhood. His thick black hair was disheveled and he wore a common brown shirt and trousers. When she got close to the entrance, she noticed that his feet were bare. He must have been rushed.

The bow maiden stopped under the arch of the gate and pointed to the shy boy outside. There is the messenger, Mistress Alesandra.

Alesandra didn't waste any time with introductions. What urgent message brings you here? she demanded.

My apologies, Mistress Alesandra, he stammered. It's your sister, mistress. She bears her child tonight and begs you to be witness. After finishing his plea, the young man bowed his head and waited for a reply.

How can this be? Alesandra asked. My sister is not due for another month?

Her sister Amalay was having her second child and everyone was praying for a girl. There needed to be an Albatine heir to continue service at the temple after she was gone. Albatines have served the Mistress and the Temple of Ascension for as long as anyone could remember. She hoped the pregnancy was not in jeopardy.

I cannot say, mistress. All I know, is that I heard the screams of birth right after going to bed, and my master told me to come right away and fetch you to be witness.

Alesandra contemplated the best way to proceed. She turned to the young bow maiden. Tell one of the apprentices at the livery to saddle two horses and bring them here.

The bow maiden nodded and trotted off.

Alesandra turned to the young man, Your horse looks tired. We will leave him here, and I will make sure he gets returned later.

Yes, mistress.

Alesandra figured the boy pushed his horse hard to make it to the temple as soon as he did. Both the horse and the boy looked weary and ready to collapse. She didn't see a saddlebag or water pouch on the horse either.

What is your name?

I am Tuma, Mistress Alesandra.

Well Tuma, you look thirsty, and I suspect these maidens were none too concerned about your condition. Would you like some water?

That would be most kind, mistress.

Bow maidens were fearsome warriors but they often suffered from a lack of simple etiquette. Alesandra turned and called out to one of the maidens at the gate.

Maiden.

Yes, mistress?

Do you think you could find a couple flasks of water and perhaps some traveling rations before our horses arrive?

I shall do my best, she replied and dashed off before anything further could be said.

Bow maidens trained hard from the day of their initiation to protect and serve the temple. They were both fierce and obedient but a little gruff, especially toward outsiders.

The bow maiden returned ahead of the horses, and Alesandra showered her with praise. She gave Tuma some rations and told him to eat and drink, which he did without argument. He ate some hard bread and a handful of jerked blacktail before their horses arrived. He appeared refreshed, at least enough that he could ride without falling out of the saddle.

Alesandra took the reins of the horses from her apprentice Vera and handed one to Tuma.

Put his horse in one of the stables Maiden Vera and see that he gets fed.

Yes, mistress. Is everything alright, Mistress Alesandra?

I'm sure everything is fine, but I'm not sure how long I will be away. I doubt it will be more than a day or two. Could you please inform Mistress Alma for me that a family emergency has arisen? Also, could you attend to my duties at the livery until I return?

Of course, Mistress Alesandra. May the Mistress guide your journey.

Alesandra was thankful Vera was a competent apprentice. She reined in her mare and headed up the hillside toward Elders Vale. The moon hung above the tree line to her left. The halo was fading and dark clouds were beginning to obscure the Mistress. Tonight was a night she wished she could have avoided. She couldn't shake the prophecy from her mind.

Under the Willow

Meeka sat beneath her favorite willow tree on a small knoll not far from her home. It was her retreat when she was angry or troubled. The large willow created a canopy to hide her from anyone looking for her, but she could still watch the comings and goings on the farm. It was her father's farm. He inherited it as the only son, but he cared little for farming. He preferred the trade of tailoring and selling rare material. He hired servants to tend to the animals and the fields. He couldn’t stand the smell of animals, but he liked the additional income. Meeka visited her willow most often to escape her mother. Her shrill condemnations still lingered in the back of Meeka's mind. Her mother Amalay was resentful that her sister was chosen for the temple instead of her. She hounded Meeka daily on all the things she needed to do to become one of the confirmed . She expects me to be her redemption.

The evening breeze made Meeka shiver. The air was cool and moist from rain. The dangling limbs of the willow concealed her from prying eyes, but it did little to thwart the moist air. She pulled her knees close to her chest and wrapped her arms tightly around them trying to stay warm. Meeka regretted not grabbing a cape before storming out. She closed her eyes, took in a deep breath, and exhaled slowly. The thin branches of her willow felt as if they were embracing her, consoling her.

Meeka sat stubbornly behind the swaying branches watching them bend to the demands of the wind. She endured the cool breeze rather than return to face her mother. The trailing branches swirled from a vigorous gust revealing the night sky and the nearly full moon. Tomorrow would bring the huntress moon. The illuminated leaves billowed over the moon like a shroud. Meeka prayed often to the goddess Semali, the First Daughter of the All Mother and Sky Father. She was the protector of maidens and of the hunt. Meeka felt a kinship with the goddess, but the goddess favored the brave. Meeka didn't feel brave. She felt doubt, and tomorrow she would take her maiden's test. Please let me pass the test tomorrow, she prayed. The Mistress Semali never seemed to acknowledge her.

The breeze was starting to bite, and Meeka began wondering if it was time to return home. She contemplated sneaking back inside to retrieve a cape, but her mother was most likely waiting for her. Meeka caught some movement through the branches and leaned over to get a better look. Someone was coming around the meadow wearing a robe with a hood. The only people she knew to wear robes like this, were the mistresses from the temple, but Meeka wasn't expecting her aunt. She watched as the person moved up the trail and came straight toward her willow. Who is that? It couldn't be her mother. Her mother had a similar robe, but she would never venture out after dark. Her mother found something menacing in every shadow. Meeka pulled aside the drooping branches to get a better look. When the cloaked figure rounded the meadow and began climbing the small rise, Meeka could see the full moon embroidered on the breast of the black robe. Aunt Alesandra? Meeka felt excited at the prospect of seeing her aunt.

Meeka stepped through the concealing branches and stepped into the open. When the robed figure was within a few strides, she withdrew her cowl and revealed her face.

Aunt Alesandra! Meeka screeched and leapt into her aunt, wrapping her arms tightly around her.

Easy, Meeka, Alesandra clamored as she fought to maintain her balance. Bless the All Mother girl you are like a fierce wind and your poor aunt is aging and frail. They both laughed and embraced each other anew.

What brings you all the way out here Aunt Alesandra?

This is not far from your home dear one, Alesandra pointed to their cottage across the meadow.

No, not here, Meeka jeered. The Temple. Why are you away from the temple?

You make it sound like a prison, Meeka. Can’t I visit with my family? Besides, I have duties to perform at the festival tomorrow. Alesandra made a small effort to sound wounded at Meeka's question.

Meeka's smile couldn't contain itself. She loved her aunt dearly and was overjoyed to see her. Normally she only saw her once a year during holiday dinners.

Alesandra placed her hand gently on Meeka's cheek and gave her a smile.

My how the All Mother has blessed you dearest. You have become a most beautiful maiden. With those long auburn curls and forest green eyes, you are lovely. Alesandra looked at Meeka in a way she always wished her mother would, if only once.

Meeka lowered her head embarrassed by her aunt's praise. She just celebrated her fifteenth birth year and wasn't used to being called a maiden.

Alesandra wrapped an arm across Meeka's shoulder in an attempt to shield her from the breeze.

Now, what possessed you to be out in this chilled air without so much as a shawl? Alesandra gave Meeka a disapproving glare.

Meeka stared at her feet not knowing exactly what to say.

Alesandra pulled on her arm. Come, she insisted. Your aunt is too old to sit on the ground. Let's take a seat over here. Alesandra motioned to the low wall around the meadow and pulled Meeka over to the stacked stones. Alesandra sat herself down with a small sigh and patted the stone beside her.

Come on, sit, she demanded.

Meeka didn't know how to open a conversation about her mother, so she leaned into Alesandra and redirected the conversation.

Why do they call you a mistress at the temple after thirteen years, if you have never been joined with a man?

Alesandra looked at Meeka suspiciously. You already know this.

I guess, but can you tell it to me anyway? Meeka loved to hear her aunt recite fables and religious stories. Some of her fondest memories were sitting around the hearth at home listening to her aunt.

Alesandra chewed on her lip deliberating on how to proceed. Meeka thought she was going to deny her request, but Alesandra began reciting the tale.

"Well, it is said that after the First Daughter raised all her many children and grandchildren that she and her beloved husband, the First Son, Sukellas, left their family and went into the wilderness in search of their parents. You see, after Semali and Sukellas joined, they were separated from the bonds of the All Mother and Sky Father. Their bodies became corrupted and started to age. They could not speak to their parents as they once had. Frailty of old age was upon them, so they decided to return to the wild in hopes of finding a means to speak with their beloved parents. They traveled deep into the forest until their frail bodies could go no further, and stopped to rest in a clearing with a large elder tree at its center. Weary from age and traveling, they decided this was where they would spend their last days. They sat under the boughs of the elder tree hoping and praying to hear the voices of their long silent parents.

I know what happens next, Meeka interrupted smiling at her aunt mischievously.

Then hush, and try to learn something instead of interrupting your elders, chided Alesandra. Meeka could see a smile crack through her aunt's mask of sternness.

You see, the first born wanted to return to the union where they could hear and feel the presence of their parents. They wanted their essence reconnected to the All Mother and the Sky Father, which they lost after they fell in love and joined. This is why maiden leaves her home to build a new one with her husband, and why the whole community shares in the burden of their first home. They are losing everything they have ever known and beginning anew in the community.

Alesandra paused and looked down at Meeka checking on her attentiveness. Meeka did her best to appear attentive, but it was a story she had heard many times. She smiled graciously at her aunt and leaned on her shoulder.

"When the First Born realized their prayers were not heard, a deep despair fell over them. Sukellas sang the Song of Renewal with a weary voice as he waited for his life to ebb. His mournful voice carried through the trees and into the heavens. Semali bowed her head in sadness as her tears soaked the ground beneath their feet. The All Mother felt the ground shudder with grief as Semali's tears fell, and the Sky Father heard the mournful cry of his son. It grieved them to be losing their children. In their moment of grief, they reached out to spare their children the pain of death. The Sky Father created the Arc of Ascension so their children could ascend into the heavens and be renewed. Sukellas was reborn as the nurturing sun and Semali was reborn as the watchful moon. Semali is torn between her love for Sukellas and her love for her children. She divides her attention between her two loves, and once a