Chapter 2. The Last Circle
August 3rd 2002,
I don't remember the last time I've seen Hunter so happy. He has been like this all summer. It because of this girl of his, Morgan. From what he says about her she better be good. It's so weird to have Da home. I barely remember him, and now it's as if I suddenly have this whole new person in my life. When he first came I admit I was a tad resistant to him. He wanted to hug me and such and I wouldn't allow it. Not just yet. I mean I barely know this man, my father. Hopefully things will get better with time. Hopefully.
~Alwyn
Marie and I chat as we make our way to the robe closet down the hall. The robe closet is a small room where all the students store there robes for circles. On either side of it are changing rooms for men and women respectfully. When we reach the door Marie opens it. We walk in and pluck our robes of hangers. Marie's are a deep purple with bronze embroidery. We exit the closet and enter the changing room where we quickly slip out of our clothes and into our robes. When we are done we head towards the circle room down the hall.
The door is open to the circle room which is a spacious circular room light by candles on pedestals all around the room. Tonight the floor is covered in Crabapple flowers. The room smells of sandalwood and rose, and is full of busily chatting people illuminated softly by the candle light. I feel a hand on my shoulder and turn to see Mark Withey, Marie's boyfriend with his arms around the two of us.
"How are my two favorite ladies on this most wonderful Lughnasadh?" He asks in his too-British-to-be-Welsh-even-though-it-is accent. He smiles as we laugh.
He takes his hand off my shoulder and wraps them both around Marie and kisses her on the cheek. He is very handsome, average height (about 5' 9) medium-brown hair that is dusted blonde on the tips, crystal clear gray-blue eyes small slightly squished looking nose. His robes are emerald green with silver embroidery. Mark is a Leapvaughn.
"Are you coming to the pub after Morgan?" He asks me.
"I guess so, nothing else to do." I say. I turn around sensing someone I know.
Eoife stands behind me in silver-gray robes, her hair is done up and she is smiling at me. "Hello, Morgan." She says.
"Eoife! What are you doing here?" I say in surprise.
"I requested to come and host this circle," She says in her matter-of-fact Scottish accent, "This is your first Lughnasadh, is it not my dear?" She asks.
"Yes, it is. But I've done a lot of reading on it." I say. Lughnasadh is the celebration of the end of the summer, a harvest, and also of marriage. It's one of the eight main sabbats in Wicca.
"Well, lets get started then shall we," She turns and clears her throat, "Will everyone please move to the center of the room!" She directs. Once everyone is in the middle we make a circle, Eoife draws and chalk circle around us all and before closing it she steps in and we all take hands. She passes around a small bag of salt and once everyone has some we throw it up and say "With this salt, we purify our circle." There are about thirty of us, all wearing different color robes. Eoife begins to chant and we all follow, and begin to walk winder shin.
Come east spirits, who have brought word,
The Lord's death is today assured
Come south spirits, who would consume
The Lord's body with fever and fume
Come west spirits, was us in sorrow
The Lord won't be within our realm tomorrow
Come north spirits, open a chasm
Accept the Lord's body at his final spasm
I feel the energy rise in my body and I grip Marie's hand. My mind tells me too let something go, that this is the time to wash away worries and start again with a clean slate. A time of repair. I wish for the goddess to help me release the negative energies that have built up from this past year. I ask her to help me repair all my ties to my parents and friends. We start to chant again, and the words come naturally:
Now is the time of the first harvest,
when the bounties of nature give of themselves,
So that we may survive.
O God of the ripening fields, Lord of the Grain,
Grant me the understanding of sacrifice as you
prepare to deliver yourself under the sickle of the Goddess,
and travel to the lands of eternal summer.
O Goddess of the dark moon,
Teach me the secrets of rebirth
as the sun loses its strength and the nights grow cold.
I feel all my stress and negative energy leave me as the circle slows to a stop and we break hands and yell
"Blessed be!"