Over the Christmas holidays, Unspeakables swarm over Hogwarts, cataloguing as much as they can while they have near unrestricted access to the school. The probable entrance to the lost chamber of secrets is located on the first day, when a thorough investigation of the second floor girls toilet reveals a non-functional tap with a snake motif. The also map the protections and wards over the school, noting which ones are dormant, which ones are active, and the overall charge level.
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To the great disappointment of Morgana's Mundane Studies group, the last practical lab session for their school year isn't nearly as exciting as their second lab session was. As without Skye as their lab technician, Morgana is being extra careful about the exposure of magic.
Over hanging all of that is the absence of Sally-Anne, and the palpable sense of guilt and despair that Harry is carrying around with themselves, as whatever peace they'd found with their gender during 1st year has been shattered by whatever is pre-occupying them now.
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At the dawn of the winter solstice, Liz stumbles out of the mist carrying her Crwth in one hand, and an empty skin of mead in the other. As she looks around the streets of Edinburgh, she curses under her breath at how alien the city appears to be, along with how long it took her to realise that she wasn't dreaming.
As a driver leans on their horn, Liz looks around with bloodshot eyes, before staggering out of the road, and ignoring the swearing the driver sends her way. Spotting a water fountain, she lurches over, and leans her forehead against the tap while she splashes her face with water, to wake herself up.
Now a little more alert, she vanishes into the mist, as if she was never there. A moment later, she appears at the entrance to Edinburgh University, and walks unsteadily towards the language department. There, she sits down on the floor, outside the offices for Sean Lamb and Thea Watt, and retunes her Crwth by ear.
Once the tuning is complete, she begins to compose a new poem about her experiences in Aí's domain. Well, her domain now, as Aí was a man's name. Idly she pauses in her composing to wonder if her own name is now the feminine version of Aí's name, or if it's the same name. Shrugging, she decides that's a question for the druids, so she'll look Skye up later.
It's only half an hour or so later that the two professors pause at the end of the corridor as they hear Liz's singing to an ancient tune. There they both pause as they try to identify the language being used. When the singer stops for a few moments, they share a glance, before walking down corridor to their offices.
Thea is the first one to recognise Liz through the bird's nest that is her hair, her dishevelled Celtic clothing, and the smell of stale alcohol, "Miss Main, where have you been?"
Liz looks up at Thea with a toothy smile, "Professor Watt, I just got back from learning a new language." Her tone turns bitter, "It was a once in a life time offer to learn Ancient Celtic, through total immersion."
Sean narrows his eyes, "This isn't just an excuse to have us rescind your attendance warnings, is it?"
Liz waves her hand carelessly, "I haven't been back to my dorm yet, so I had no idea I had any. I only came back because I ran out of mead, and I was getting lonely. And I also figured out that being drunk wasn't making my experiences go away either. So here I am, one crash course in Ancient Celtic later. Teach me to mouth off to Skye about how lucky she was."
Thea wrinkles her nose, "Well, you better come in, we have some unreleased audio from Sanctuary, so if you match or exceed their translations…"
Liz pushes herself off the floor, and stumbles to the side slightly, before unsteadily reaching down to pick up her empty skin of mead.
As she listens to the first recording, Liz bursts out laughing, much to Thea's annoyance, "What's so funny Miss Main?"
Liz slaps the table, "Only that Airmed is complaining to her daughter about the fact that the people are giving thanks to their godless religion, rather than thanking the gods that are there for the work they've done. Her daughter then asks why the religion is godless, at which point Airmed says, she doesn't know, and it didn't make sense back then either. Only, her language is rather more colourful than that."
Sean shows Thea the translation that they have, before looking up at Liz, "Could you give us a word for word translation?"
Liz shakes her head, "Sorry, no, I'd need to write it down for that, and my crash course didn't include ogham, but I got poetry and playing the Crwth instead." Liz thinks for a moment, "Think of it like trying to directly translate Japanese into English. It just doesn't work, because Japanese has underlying concepts that don't appear in English. Like, I know they're mother and daughter because of the version of the words Airmed uses. But English doesn't have any of that in it, neither does French for that matter." Liz thinks for a moment, "Honestly, ancient Celtic is closer to English and Welsh than it is to any of the Romance or Germanic languages."
Thea nods, "Ok, how about this one?" She presses the next track button on the CD player.
Liz nods, "Ok, this isn't a native speaker, I'd say she's a native English speaker who's learning Celtic. She's badly asking someone how a wooden joint is supposed to go together. Ugh, her sentence structure is all wrong, and absolutely atrocious. I hope whoever's teaching her will correct that soon." Liz winces, "You can't use those words together, they don't make sense." She rattles off a sentence in Celtic, "That's what you should say instead."
Sean makes some notes on the translation they've got typed out for this track, before handing it to Thea. Thea nods, before looking up at Liz, "Ok Liz, we believe you. Though, obviously, we'd have preferred to have some notice of this training opportunity before you left on it."
Liz laughs, "I'd have love to let you know, but I was drunk when I got the offer, and when I next woke up I was there."
Thea leans forward, "What happened then?"
"What do you think happened? It was total immersion, so I woke up in the middle of fucking nowhere with only the clothes I came home with, this Crwth, and a dagger. Oh, and a letter that I lost in a puddle when the ink ran."
"Go home, have a shower, and then a bath. And pay your rent. We'll see you next semester. We would also appreciate it, if you would put together a syllabus to teach this language to students. Ultimately, you'll need four such syllabi, one for each year. But right now, they need people who have even a basic grasp of the language to translate for officials. As they feel it's unfair that the Celts understand our language, but we don't understand theirs."
Liz nods, "They can do that to anyone, understand them that is. They taught me that too. If you can find a few people who just seem to get languages, even though they struggle to speak them. I might, and I mean might, be able to teach them to understand all languages too. It's how they traded with foreigners from distant lands."
Sean smiles at Liz, "Maybe once you've graduated from the degree program, you can do a doctorate by anglicising the language, so that we have a phonetic guide to the language."
Liz swears in Celtic, before she gets up and staggers of the office and into the Otherside, and her dorm room. There, she collapses on her bed, and falls asleep almost immediately.
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On Christmas Eve, Morgana, Airmed, Pomona, and Daphne all appear on the set of Celtic Watch in hastily transfigured clothing.
As they arrive, the host, Rachel Sanders, stands up to greet them, "Thank you for responding, and taking time out of your busy schedules to attend our Christmas special. I hope you don't mind if we ask you about your own winter celebrations at this time of year."
Morgana smiles brittlely when the other three all look at her, "Not at all Rachel. Though, I will point out, that like most of the non-Christian faiths, we do not celebrate Christmas. Though, we take it a little further than most, and don't generally acknowledge the day."
Rachel gestures to the chairs and sits down, "What do you celebrate then?"
Morgana smiles, "I am particularly fond of the research that Dr Morgana Danann has done on our culture. While it is far from complete, it does provide a good summary of our culture from the perspective of a British person."
Rachel laughs as she lifts a stack of books and videos from behind a small table, onto the table, "I, like many of our viewers, have been trying to wade through those books. However, they are not very accessible to the lay person. Maybe you could explain to the audience the significant events of this part of the year?"
Morgana's eyes go distant, "Like many of our neighbours we believed in the cycle of life and death, and saw winter as the temporary death of the world. Our Druids, not to be confused with the later druidic religion, studied the sun and the stars to determine where in the year we were. A few days ago was the winter solstice, and it was something that would be quietly celebrated by the Druids. They would then inform the local kings and leaders of the peoples. 14 days after the solstice, they would announce that the winter is ending. That's when our people would celebrate by exchanging personally made gifts. Not even the kings were exempt from this, as it was considered insulting to trade for someone else to make the gift on your behalf. It didn't matter how crude or well made it was, just the fact that you made it was what mattered. In the evening, there would be feasting around a fire, and people would throw messages to the gods into the fire. Not written messages like people sometimes do now, but symbolic messages. Maybe a few ears of grain fashioned into a hoop in thanks of a good harvest, or a scrap of cloth from a baby's clothes if they were thankful for a birth. Maybe even something representing something they hope to happen in the next year. It was also the traditional end of the mourning period that started on Samhain, for those who lost loved ones, including cattle, in the previous year."
Morgana takes a sip of water from the glasses provided. "Also around this time we celebrated the coming of the new year with the first new moon after the solstice."
Rachel interrupts, "Sorry to interrupt, but why the new moon?"
Airmed answers gently, "It's to do with light, and the cycle of beginning and ending. From darkness comes light, whether you light a lamp, or the sun rises. The same is true of the moon, from the new moon comes the crescent moon, and the light. As the cycle moves on, it reaches a peak, and will slowly start to die back. In our culture, it was considered auspicious to start new things on the new moon. Equally, the full moon was a time to begin putting things away. As it was at the height of it's brightness, and over the coming days, the light it provides would die back to nothing. Same as a lamp as the oil runs dry, or the sun as it completes its arc across the sky. When the two festivals coincided, we had a week of feasting, as it was believed that it signalled the beginning of an auspicious year."
Rachel nods, "It sounds wonderful."
Airmed shakes her head, "It wasn't, it was joyous, fun, and a coming together of the community. But life was hard in ways that you can't possibly imagine. But it's all we knew, and so we took joy and happiness where we could. We planned for the future, and lived for the now. I look at your lives today, and I think how wonderful they are. But then I realise that they are also safe, and have been for such a long time that you no longer understand why we need to celebrate what we have now."
Airmed looks around at the audience hidden behind the lights, "None of you have any cause to worry that your loved ones could be taken from you tomorrow. Or that your harvest might fail, and if enough of your neighbours' also fail, your community will lose people to starvation over the next winter. You don't worry about naming your children before they are two, because you're confident they will live to see adulthood. Dragons, fairies, gryphons, sea serpents, and other magical creatures that no longer seem to roam the world anymore. Beautiful and majestic, until they were fighting above your village. Or the fairies decided to play in your grain stores, and knocked them over, allowing the rats to get in."
Airmed flicks her wrist, and an illusion of a village appears on the carpet between them and Rachel, "Your writings call us superstitious, but we weren't, we just didn't know why some things happened. Our Druids studied the world around us, and observed the sun, stars, and planets, trying to divine their meaning and purpose. They also studied the world around us, looking at the plants and animals, at how the world fit together. But still, we didn't know why today was the longest night. Only that it was."
As she talks, a pair of dragons fly over the village, fighting over food, territory, or mates, it matters not.
"And so, our Druids kept watch upon the sky in case this year was the year the sun died. Did we believe it could happen? No more than you do today. But we didn't know it couldn't happen. When the sun returned as expected, it was an excuse for a party, knowing that the longest part of the winter was over. Even though the worst of the winter was to come."
As the dragons crash through the village, scattering houses, and killing villagers and cattle, an image of Morrigan steps out of the mist with five battle crows and starts to drive the dragons off. At the same time, Airmed begins to tend to the injured, while Daphne helps with the buildings, and Pomona helps with the ruined fields.
"Of course, we also had the gods, us and the rest of our family. With the right prayers, aid could be requested, and given. Of course, we can only be in one place at a time."
A second village appears as the fighting dragons are driven off, and the dragons resume their fight there, but this time no aid arrives.
"This is why we had chosen companions, those rare mortals that not only passed, but also survived our tests, and the final trial that all chosen face. It's also why there were so many of us. Some, like myself and The Morrigan beside me, were worshipped across the entire country, and sometimes beyond into neighbouring Celtic communities. But most of us were local gods, who looked out for a small area of the country."
The image changes from a Celtic Village to a Greek looking town, where a caricature of Ares appears and throws a tantrum, destroying the village in the process.
"While I seem to have the floor, I think that's the phrase, I'd like to talk to you a little bit about how a religion with many gods differs from the one that seems to be most prevalent today. As a civilisation spread, mortals would often gain enough of a following and enough power to become a god themselves. In some regions, the local gods didn't like this as their societies were expanding, and ensured that their stories were spread far and wide. In societies like these, this replaced the natural growth of local gods who cared about regions of the society. It also led to the original gods being bombarded by prayers non-stop until they snapped and had a temper tantrum. Our society, along with many other societies, such as the Indians, were not so jealous of the attention, and so we had many gods who have now passed into the beyond. Like the Indians of today, we each had our own things we were known for, and we were good at. And so, apart from a few people, our civilisations didn't worship us individually. Instead they prayed to us collectively, and thanked us collectively. It was only if they had a specific need that they would pray to an individual god. Much like you would go to a mechanic if your car broke down, but you wouldn't if your computer broke down."
There's a slight laugh from the audience at the last line.
Rachel, at the prodding of the producers, leans forward, "Airmed you mentioned the Indian gods. The only one that we know of is Kali. Are there more?"
Daphne leans forward, "Do you mind if I take this?"
Rachel smiles, "Of course Aoibhgreine."
Daphne smiles, "I am going to school with a chosen of Kali, and she's told me that both Shiva and Parvati are both still alive and well. If they're alive, then I have no doubt that there will be other Indian gods still alive. I also know that many of the Norse Pantheon have survived the years. Though I was told they retreated far from the world, so they can no longer hear prayers sent their way. It wouldn't surprise me to find out that many of the Native American peoples still have their own gods either. If it wasn't for the work of Dr Danann, then I'm sure that you still wouldn't be aware of our own existence. So, again, why wouldn't it be true for other gods around the world?"
Rachel smiles broadly at Daphne, "Thank you for such an insightful answer. For our audience members, please remember the amnesia epidemic that is still rampant across the country. If you believe that you've discovered a prayer to a lost deity, we strongly suggest that you send an email to the address at the bottom of your screens, with the subject 'Ask an Expert', or phone in on our anonymous question line, also at the bottom of the screen. We will research your deity, and give you an answer in a one of the Tuesday segments of 'Ask an Expert'. Now, Diougenia, do you have any advice for us at this time of year?"
Taking her cue from Morgana and Airmed, Pomona shakes her head, "This time of year would normally be quiet for me. However, for those who live in areas where you have to choose between ventilation and warmth, boughs of evergreen trees like pine can bring a pleasant scent into the home. Equally, herbs like basil and lemon balm can easily be grown inside with a little care, and each one of them has their own scent that can be crushed to release into the room, or added to food. If you are going to grow them indoors, ensure that they are placed on a south facing windowsill. For those in the southern hemisphere during your winter, it would be the north facing windowsill. Do not directly water the herbs, instead, put their pots in a shallow container and add ¼ inch of water whenever you notice the container has run dry. If you plan on using them in food, remember that when they start to flower, their taste will change, and only take a small amount of the leaves from the top of the plant, so that the lower leaves will grow out into a more bushy plant."
Rachel smile and leans back, "Thank you for that." Rachel stands up and walks to the front of the carpet, "Everyone, please give a round of applause to The Morrigan, Airmed, Aoibhgreine, and Diougenia. I hope you will join us on the… 4th January where we will be having a Celtic Celebration. If we're lucky, the goddesses behind me will be willing to come, and maybe bring some of the friends and aquantances they've made since they reappeared from Myth at Sanctury. After the break, Daniel will be your host for Celtic Watch, Kali sightings."
As the light on the camera goes out, Rachel leads the four of them out, before sagging in relief as she leaves the harsh studio lights.
Turning around, she looks at her four guests, "Thank you so much for coming again. Especially you Aoibhgreine, you may not remember, but I was the reporter that first filmed you when you rescued the child from the basement in Florida."
Daphne shakes her head, "I'm sorry, I honestly don't remember much about Hurricane Andrew, as I was running on about 2 hours sleep most of the time."
Rachel nods, "You probably should never have been there anyway. They were a family from Kansas who had an illegal storm shelter built under their house. I looked them up after I reviewed the footage after I was hit with amnesia. You were the one that inspired me to learn as much as I can about Celtic culture. As anyone that can respond to prayers and be as patient and understanding as you were, must be a good god." Rachel looks down, "I just wish I could learn more. But you're all that's left apart from scraps of archaeological evidence."
Daphne shakes Rachel's hand, "In many ways, I am only paying it forward, as they saved me, and so now I can save others."
Rachel shakes her head, "No, it's more than that. There's something about you that was worth it, and that's what's coming through. Most children your age wouldn't even think twice about taking on this responsibility, even if someone forced it onto them. You have truly earnt the hopes and prayers of the people out there."
Airmed coughs, "You said that you wish you could learn more. How much do you wish that?"
Rachel looks at Airmed in surprise, "A lot. I'm saving up at the moment so that I can travel to Britain for several months so that I can attend Dr Danann's 'A Celtic Day', and hopefully set up some sort of distance correspondence."
Airmed smiles at Rachel, "When do you finish today?"
Rachel points her thumb over her shoulder, "That was it until next year. I just need to sign off and then we're not back until the new year." She taps her ear, where she's got a wire, "The producers weren't happy with me earlier, as we weren't due to start until the Saturday after the 4th."
Airmed nods happily, "Why don't you finish up for the day, then I'll take you out for something to eat and drink while I tell you about an old friend of mine Canola."
Morgana nods approvingly, before she grabs Daphne and Pomona, and disappears into the mist.
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Once Rachel has finished her paperwork, and signed out, Airmed takes her hand and pulls her into the Otherside. There, they walk in silence for a few minutes, until they exit onto the edge of a cliff along a rugged coastline. Set back from the cliff is a small village, and down below, on a rocky beach, is the rotting remains of a whale.
Rachel pulls her coat around her to ward off the chill of the ocean wind, "Where are we?"
Airmed smiles as she looks out at the horizon, "This is the home of Cana Cludhmor, the inventor of the harp, in the Celtic people anyway. They didn't look like the harps you're familiar with, though I think you'll recognise one when you see it. Hers is a sad and lonely tale, as she was never the best Harp maker, nor the best player, just the first. She lived in a village much like the one behind us with her mortal husband, Machuel. These days, we'd say that she had magic, but back then, she was just blessed."
Airmed points to the whale skeleton, "As the story goes, Cana had an argument with her husband, and left to clear her head. As it was a full moon, she made her way down to the beach, where she wandered, just listening to the sound of the sea. If you carefully lean over, you'll see that above the high tide line, the beach is soft sand littered with broken shells, rather than the hard stones and rocks that make up the rest of the beach. It was in one such spot that she settled down to watch the moon and stars, and listen to the waves coming in and out. As she sat there, a breeze built up, and beautiful music filled the air. With her mind clearer, she lay down and fell asleep.
"When she woke the next morning, she could clearly see the whale skeleton, and hear the sound of the music she heard that night. Investigating the source of the sound, she realised that the wind was blowing through partially rotted sinew, still attached to the skeleton. That inspired her to create the first harp.
"Once she perfected the theory, her name started to spread, and crafters would come from neighbouring kingdoms to learn how to make their own harps. What she didn't know is that they praised her name to any that would hear, and their own students took that further. It wasn't until she outlived her husband, and joined the council of Elders that she began using her gifts to go on what the Native Americans would call vision quests. This was before our culture was forced to use the Otherside far more regularly and deliberately, so for most gifted people, going into the mists was still a dangerous prospect due to the distractions that exist there. As, without practice, any skill learned will atrophy, and the ability to ignore those distractions is one of those skills. On top of this, her position required her to actively pay attention to those distractions and try to get glimpses of the present and future to help her village."
Airmed turns and starts to walk to the village, "One truth about the Otherside is that the more you use it, the more it becomes part of you. And this was as true then, as it is now. Which is why the belief and prayers that those students had started began to affect her, and a domain formed in the Otherside. It's ironic then, that the stories that spread about her, were about music, inspiration, and dreams, rather than the hard work she put into making the harp in the first place. Meaning that as a Goddess, she could play the harp beautifully, but she still struggled to make an even half presentable harp herself."
As they walk together into the village, Rachel opens her mouth a few times as she digests the story, only to close it again. As they're walking through the village communal area, to the long house, Rachel asks, "Why did you tell me that story?"
Airmed smiles and just pulls the cured skins, over the doorway, and gestures inside. Beside a crackling fire, is a low table with a crude harp, and a single crab apple.
Letting the skins drop back in place, Airmed points at the table, "Rachel, I'd like to offer you a place in our family, to take on the domain that Cana left so long ago. If you accept, you need to eat the whole of that crab apple in a single sitting, without letting any of it escape your body until it's consumed. After that, you'll place some of your blood on the harp."
Rachel looks around wildly, "What? Why me? Why now?"
Airmed smiles, "Exactly as I said. As for why you? Why not, you have provided structure to many of the people that pray to us, leaving us time to live our lives. Why now? Well, tonight is the first new moon after the solstice. What better time could there be to join our family?"
Rachel looks at Airmed incredulously, "Really?"
Airmed nods, "And if you're fast enough, we'll have time to go to the celebrations at home, and I know for a fact that Dr Danann will be there."
Rachel gives a happy squeal, before hurrying over, and putting the crab apple in her mouth like a gobstopper. Something she quickly regrets as she takes her first bite, and her face puckers at the same time she dry heaves. Airmed supresses her chuckle and walks over to rub Rachel's back while she's slowly chewing and swallowing the apple.
As she finishes the final swallow, Rachel sticks her tongue out, "Ugh, that was disgusting, warn a person next…" she trails off as her stomach cramps, and she collapses slowly to the floor.
Airmed crouches comfortingly beside her, "Shh, it's just the magic from the apple infusing your body. It will let up in a moment."
Rachel pushes herself to her feet, "That's was bad. Warn a girl next time, k?"
Airmed just smiles and pulls a very sharp dagger from the mist, "Just touch the tip, it should be sharp enough you don't need to do more than that."
"Why do you keep a knife that sharp?"
Airmed smiles, "I am a healer, sometimes you have to make a larger wound before you can heal the original wound."
Rachel makes an 'O' shape with her mouth, "I should have thought of that." Looking at the harp, she asks, "Can I pick it up?"
Airmed nods, "Of course."
Rachel picks up the harp, and runs her fingers across the strings gently. After a few moments, Rachel closes her eyes, "What are you doing Rachel, this is insane. Why are you even considering it? What about your job, family, and friends?" She laughs, "What friends? Unless you include drinks at the bar with your co-workers friends. Family, only Uncle Barker had anything good to say about this show, and nobody else talks to him. They don't talk to me either. As for work, I bet the producers would love to have a verified goddess working for them."
Airmed says gently, "Rachel, you don't ever need to let anyone else know about your status. We're not the only gods that have come back, we're just the ones whose names are known."
Rachel opens her eyes and stares at Airmed's face, searching for any hint of deception. When she sees none, she grits her teeth, and stabs her finger on the dagger, before screaming in pain and sticking it in her mouth. "Fuck, that hurt."
Airmed laughs, "I did warn you it was sharp."
Rachel takes her finger out of her mouth, and looks at it as the skin flops freely backwards and forward, "Shit, I'm going to need stitches for this. Fuck this hurts."
Airmed smiles, "If you're going to touch the harp, do it now, otherwise I'll heal the wound."
Rachel looks around with her finger in her mouth, "I forgot you were a goddess for a moment. You just seem so… normal."
Airmed laughs, "That's because we are normal. We have jobs, lives, and friends outside of this. Yes, for a god like me, that job is being a god, but that doesn't change the fact that I play 10 pin bowling, or I go to the pub for a pint."
"What will touching the harp do to me?"
"You'll gain all of Cana's memories and magic. You'll also be tied to this domain in a way that I can't describe, as you don't have the experience needed to understand. You'll feel the prayers of those who know your private name, which is why I used the common mis-pronunciation in the TV studio. You'll also grow in stature, and you'll need to glamour yourself to live around mortals without causing them discomfort or harm."
Rachel looks into the fire for 15 minutes while she considers everything she's been told, everything she's seen on Celtic Watch over the last 3 months. And her bout of amnesia, "Will I ever suffer from the amnesia epidemic again?"
Airmed shakes her head, "Only if you let them affect you."
"Them?"
Airmed nods, "Yes, all of the magical and fantastic things in the world didn't disappear, they were hidden by the European and Eastern magical societies. Even in places that hadn't agreed to that. They are the ones that are the cause of the amnesia epidemic, as they are trying to bring us under their control too."
Rachel takes her finger from her mouth, and jabs it on the harp with a scream. "Shit, that fucking hurt!"
A moment later, the harp clatters to the floor as Rachel's back arches as it feels like a lightning bolt has just travelled through the floor, her back, and into her head.
A few hours later, Rachel wakes up on a couch, in Morgana's mansion, to the sound of singing and dancing.
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Mihaela watches over her people as they sing and dance around the fire where two deer are roasting, freshly caught from her domain. Mead from her stores is also being shared around liberally. There's only around 50 people that are her people, out of the nearly 2,000 that are now living in this village. But there's a few hundred that are more general worshippers of the gods that visit occasionally to help with building, planting, or healing.
Behind her, the local Imam walks up behind her with a lantern, "You do not join them?"
Mihaela smiles in the darkness, "I'm just having a break, and enjoying watching them come together. I think most of the people from the village have been by to share in the celebration."
The Imam nods, "Including those who should know better. For the great prophet told us not to imbibe drinks made from grape or grain."
Mihaela laughs, "Then you're fine. This is made purely from bee puke. Or honey if you want to use the more normal word for it. We had no grapes, and grain was too valuable to try making alcohol with."
"When will these celebrations end?"
"Dawn. This is the first new moon after the solstice, and so we are celebrating the birth of a new year, in hopes that it will be a good year for us."
The Imam extinguishes his lantern, and clasps his hands behind his back, "It is troubling. You have been here a mere two months, and yet you have brought much change. Our small village is no longer recognisable, and nearly all of our youth are there, in your celebration, despite admonishments from the leaders of the community."
Mihaela smiles softly, "And what of you. What do you find disquieting? Not about the people celebrating, you personally."
The Imam sighs, "First, I was trying to persuade you to put aside your faith in the false gods, and follow the faith outlined by the Great Prophet. Now, I wonder if I am trying to persuade you, or myself. I must find my bed, as it is past time that reasonable people will have sought their sleep, and I must lead morning prayers at dawn."
Mihaela smiles, "Good night."
As the Imam lights his lantern again, Mihaela makes her way down the steep hill, as sure footed as if it was day, to re-join the celebrations.