The fields were full of wheat just waiting to be harvested as the days were becoming quickly shorter. The farmers went out with their sickles and sons for a days work as the sun had just begun to rise over head. Women were gathering in the orchards to gather as much fruit as possible, for when Samhain rolled around, anything left in the fields or on the trees was considered profane and fit only for the gods lips. The bakery was running at full tilt, grinding the grain in preparation for bread making. Mabon was at hand, the celebration of the second harvest, and once again the Celtic people were preparing for a festival.
Mozenrath awoke, alone for the fifth time in a row. Completely oblivious to the beauty of the day. It was putting him in a sour mood, not that Savern had noticed. He had never, if he dared to be honest, expected the relationship to last as long as it had. But the affections shared between them had been dwindling of late. Savern had, for the first month of so, showed him exclusive affection, something that had fed his natural ego to no end. It hadn't bothered him too much (alright it had but he had no hold over her) when she had started taking others to her pool. After all, he was entitled to do the same if he chose. But he wasn't all that interested in other women right now. Oh he fancied a round backside much as the next man, but he was perversely fixated on wearing himself out with Savern, trying to pull her back to him through pure strength of will.
He rose to greet the sun, something now required of him on a daily basis. He went through the ritual, feeling a little better as the tremors of magic ran through his body again as they did each time the encompassing light of the sun fell against his face, casting the misty blue and gray shadows against his eyes. He allowed himself a small smile as the fresh scent of baking bread reach his nose and calmly spoke the praises of Lugh, the sun god.
As Mozenrath made his way down to the bakery, he noticed Iaine, sitting up in an oak tree and staring off into the skyline, her face placid and deep in thought. He usually did not make much in the way of conversation with his fellow druid, she had a tendency to tease him at every opportunity. And if no opportunity arouse, she would remind him of foolish mistakes he'd made in the past as if the very memory could force him to play the idiot for her amusement. But he wasn't thinking about that right now. He was thinking about how awe inspiring she looked, hair fanned out around her strong jawed face, lips opened just enough to taste the dew on the leaves, eyes closed as the wind rustled the branches of the might oak. Just as he opened his mouth to speak to her, a rancorous laughter erupted from a visiting bards tent. Iaine's eyes flew open and she turned to see who had interrupted her meditation.
Mozenrath growled, he knew that voice.
Sure enough, the two who emerged from the tent were none other than Savern and the bard, a handsome man seven years her senior called Owen. They were entangled in one another, hair in various states of dishevelment and clothing wrinkled.
Ossian had taught Mozenrath how to hunt, he might have regretted it if he knew the visions going through Mozenrath's mind right now. He intentionally turned away from the now happy couple and straight into Iaine's bosom. "Ah…sorry." He murmured, expecting a taunt.
Iaine was, however, looking at the bard and friend. "They had a good night I suppose." She said. "Tell me Mozenrath, what's on your mind?" she asked when she saw his expression.
"Oh…" he debated. "Ethics." He finally decided was the best way to put it.
Iaine nodded knowingly. "Yes I guess we all come to that question sooner or later. Don't tell Savern I said this, she's my friend since childhood. But it's not your fault. She goes through men like a tanner through hides." She pointed to the bakery. "Break fast with me Mozenrath?"
He shrugged, not having any lessons planned for today. Festivals were always like that, so much hustle and bustle, celebrations and ceremonies to prepare for. There just wasn't time to try and get a decent word in. To his surprise he found Iaine rather somber today, enough so that they actually enjoyed a light meal and some friendly conversation. "So what does Mabon celebrate?" he finally said, looking for another topic to discuss.
"It's the second of the harvest festivals where the fruit is ripened and ready for picking and drying. It also means you only have from now till Samhain to finish bringing in crops and slaughtering the old herds down for good meat during the winter. For Mabon, day and night are equal, so we druids hold a celebration of life and death as they were meant to be seen, equal, a continuing cycle for all eternity."
"We're not going to sacrifice anyone are we?" Mozenrath said gingerly. There had been another cattle raid (damn there seemed to be a lot of them) a week or so back and he was still a bit sick after his last experience with one.
Iaine laughed. "No more than we're going to birth a baby from the alter stone Mozenrath." To her surprise Mozenrath laughed back. "It also means…that the god of light is being defeated by the god of darkness. The days will grow so short they pass in a flash, and the night will seem to take forever to pass. The winds will blow and the nights grow colder and colder. Lugh will be struck to the ground by Goronwy, slain. " She smirked. "You picked a bad time to loose Savern's affections."
This was exactly the reason he didn't usually seek out Iaine's company. She was younger than him, maybe only by three or four years, but they way she could speak to him made it sound like every thing he did was a mistake. She criticized like an old matron. Before he could retort (another quality he disliked, she never gave him time to defend himself) Iaine set a hand on his. "Don't worry, she's not the only maid in the village, and now that everyone knows she's parted your hut, they'll be other women looking for warm sheets."
Mozenrath drank down his milk nonchalantly as Iaine inwardly cursed herself. Goddesses could she be any more obvious? Her friends imprint on his bed wasn't even gone and she was practically throwing herself into his arms. Iaine jerked her hand away from Mozenrath's and drained her glass in a single gulp. Steady girl. She warned herself to remember the stupidity of her youth.
As if the gods agreed, the very thing that would most drive the point home came walking towards them, wearing his full finery. "Ah, Ian…ie." Essus looked from her to Mozenrath, his mood darkening. "Oh, am I interrupting something?" he said from the back of his throat.
"Nothing important." Mozenrath said, not wanting to make today any worse. He stood up. "I was just leaving." He strode away, leaving Iaine to deal with it. He didn't hear the foot steps closing in behind him, so wrapped up in his own thoughts. He didn't realize he was being followed until he was face down in the wet grass and mud, a foot on his back.
"You think your clever don't you?" Essus said, pushing his foot into Mozenrath's rib cage. "I'll tell you something right now Mozenrath, and heed me. Stay away from Iaine, she's mine." He growled out the warning like a wild cat defending it's territory.
Mozenrath felt something inside him smolder and burst into flame. He spun over and grabbed Essus's foot, jerking in down with a combination of pull and a fist to the back of his knee. "Funny, I never got the impression she was all that interested in you." He started to stand, but was pulled back to the ground by arms far stronger and better developed than his. Mozenrath slammed his elbows backwards, aiming for the ribs and getting then with a thunk. The druid made a strange noise like the air was being knocked out of him.
But Essus didn't give in, he wrapped his legs around Mozenrath's midsection and pulled his arms under the pale man's arm puts, trapping his fists behind the black hair and pushing. Mozenrath gave a yelp of pain and heard laughter erupt from behind him. "Pathetic, you can't even hold back a yelp. You think Iaine would be interested in a pale, scrawny…" Essus almost screamed himself when sparks of magic flew from around Mozenrath's frame, leaving little burn marks along Essus's arms. "What in the world…?" He froze when he saw Mozenrath's eyes.
The black pupils had turned white, the dark center bleeding out into the rest of the eyeball. Mozenrath's lips were open, his teeth grit together as his hand clenched, the heat around his palms starting to build.
Someone spoke from off left and next thing he knew, Mozenrath had gone flying through the air, landing into a sopping mud puddle. Before he could turn and see, Essus went flying, landing right beside the man. Mozenrath seemed to come back from wherever he had been and they sat stock still for a moment, trying to figure out what had happened. A shadow landed over them and both druids received the hard side of a staff upside their heads. Once, twice, three times before they had a chance to speak. Heads bruised, they looked up at Tristan's face.
A look nether had ever seen was on the old druids face. He was breathing with extreme control through enlarged nostrils, his eyes sharp as a wolfs as he looked down at the two apprentices. Iaine was behind him, arms crossed as she huffed in disgust. "Never…" Tristan began. "…in my entire life have I ever seen two druids act with such disrespect for one another's cloth." His voice was worse than a yell, a yell would have felt right. But Tristan's voice was cool and even and overflowing with disappointment. "I can not begin to express the mistakes both of you have just made. Suffice it to say neither of you will be attending Mabon celebrations tonight. If I have to discipline you like a couple of boys barely pulled from their mothers breast then fine, but the next time I have to do so in front of the entire village your punishment will ring in the mountain's ears."
Both started to move, but Tristan wasn't done yet. "Since the two of you like wallowing in the mud like pigs, you can go right now…" he thrust two huge baskets at them. "…and collect mushrooms from the forest for Cigfa. Right now, and don't you dare return until both baskets are full to the brim." Both men took the baskets grudgingly. Gathering fungi was a chore for children, this was a real punishment. "Go on now!" he said, raising his voice for the first time as the two mud soaked enemies stood and headed off into the forest. As soon as they'd gone out of sight, he turned to Iaine. "And you…he pointed to the surprised woman. "Come with me."