Shortly before Christmas - at the time of the Winter Solstice, I responded to a #VSS365 prompt on twitter with a tale that I decided would be ongoing until the Summer Solstice. In order to keep track of the story, all #vss365 prompts relating to it will be posted here. I haven't the faintest idea how this will end or what will happen, but it will be an interesting process!
With the #solstice came night never-ending. Ancient stones glistened, stained crimson by ritual sacrifice. Thus was light reborn.
#Light saw the bloodied stones and smiled, her warm beams bathing those who honoured her from below, picking out the one she would gift the night next time. The woman, oblivious, felt a kick inside, a flutter of life. It would be a good year.
Morwen followed her husband #home, their young daughters skipping between them. The Shamanka had said they would have a son … they had been blessed at last. Behind her rose the stones, their long shadows stretching out to the retreating woman, staking their claim.
They crossed the threshold, the hearth cold and unwelcoming, but having given thanks for the past and received blessings for the future, Morwen was content with the #present. If only Rhodri would speak. Even now he turned his face from her.
The next day, little had changed and that sense of #peace born of the solstice sacrifice, gradually slipped away. "The man is a coward," said her father. "He dishonours our family. " Rhodri has a different way of thinking, " said Morwen. "Thunor will guide him back."
She waited. Days filled with silence as he disappeared across the plains to talk with the robed men. When he returned, she tried to warn him against the path he had taken.
"I follow a different #star now," he replied. "You should come with me."
"And be condemned?" Morwen clutched the small #gilt hammer hanging from her neck, felt the air shift as she did so. "Thunor is listening, he will not let you go without facing the ordeal and I ... do not want to go."
"And the children?"
"They are Thunor's," said a voice behind them.
The Shamanka stood before them, Hunters behind her. Silently, they came forward and forced the family out into the twilight. Morwen pulled the children to her as she stumbled into the growing darkness, unable to #orient herself or her thoughts. The time of ordeal had come.
She was marched with her husband to the mouth of the valley. "Why must I go with Rhodri?" she asked. "The wife cannot escape blame," said the Shamanka, "but if you obey the Gods, they may yet allow you to #return to your children." "And my husband?" There was only silence.
A #chill washed over Morwen. It was time to choose between her husband and the Gods. Rhodri had endangered their family with his new faith. She felt the anger rise inside her, hot and powerful and it was good. She would do what had to be done … for their children.
Marching across the valley, she gave her husband no #quarter. He had wanted this, the new faith, well, first she would show him what the old could do. The Shamanka had told her the Gods were with her and already she could hear their voices, howling on the wind.
The hunt had begun. Soon the wolves would herd them into the gorge to receive Thunor's #kiss, the welcome of his sword, which even now was being sharpened on the whetting stone, sending sparks across the sky. Rhodri stumbled on, blind to the demons sent to welcome them.
"The #old ways are done," shouted Rhodri above the ever-increasing violence of the storm. "You must leave them behind." "Would you leave me as well?" cried Morwen as the rain beat her down into the mud. She saw only a crazed fanaticism in his eyes. The ground shook.
From the darkness they came, teeth and claws ready to bite and #pinch, slash and rip. Rhodri ignored them. “Shadows, that’s all. The mind’s fancies, sent by the Devil to torment us,” said Rhodri. “They are nothing, Thunor is nothing.” An angry roar answered him.
#Swinging an axe, a giant emerged, staring down at Rhodri as if he were an an insect. Then he hefted his blade, smashing through a large boulder to their side, carving it as if it were butter. “Do you believe now?” he growled. “Thunor has sent me to welcome you.”
#Light saw the bloodied stones and smiled, her warm beams bathing those who honoured her from below, picking out the one she would gift the night next time. The woman, oblivious, felt a kick inside, a flutter of life. It would be a good year.
Morwen followed her husband #home, their young daughters skipping between them. The Shamanka had said they would have a son … they had been blessed at last. Behind her rose the stones, their long shadows stretching out to the retreating woman, staking their claim.
They crossed the threshold, the hearth cold and unwelcoming, but having given thanks for the past and received blessings for the future, Morwen was content with the #present. If only Rhodri would speak. Even now he turned his face from her.
The next day, little had changed and that sense of #peace born of the solstice sacrifice, gradually slipped away. "The man is a coward," said her father. "He dishonours our family. " Rhodri has a different way of thinking, " said Morwen. "Thunor will guide him back."
She waited. Days filled with silence as he disappeared across the plains to talk with the robed men. When he returned, she tried to warn him against the path he had taken.
"I follow a different #star now," he replied. "You should come with me."
"And be condemned?" Morwen clutched the small #gilt hammer hanging from her neck, felt the air shift as she did so. "Thunor is listening, he will not let you go without facing the ordeal and I ... do not want to go."
"And the children?"
"They are Thunor's," said a voice behind them.
The Shamanka stood before them, Hunters behind her. Silently, they came forward and forced the family out into the twilight. Morwen pulled the children to her as she stumbled into the growing darkness, unable to #orient herself or her thoughts. The time of ordeal had come.
She was marched with her husband to the mouth of the valley. "Why must I go with Rhodri?" she asked. "The wife cannot escape blame," said the Shamanka, "but if you obey the Gods, they may yet allow you to #return to your children." "And my husband?" There was only silence.
A #chill washed over Morwen. It was time to choose between her husband and the Gods. Rhodri had endangered their family with his new faith. She felt the anger rise inside her, hot and powerful and it was good. She would do what had to be done … for their children.
Marching across the valley, she gave her husband no #quarter. He had wanted this, the new faith, well, first she would show him what the old could do. The Shamanka had told her the Gods were with her and already she could hear their voices, howling on the wind.
The hunt had begun. Soon the wolves would herd them into the gorge to receive Thunor's #kiss, the welcome of his sword, which even now was being sharpened on the whetting stone, sending sparks across the sky. Rhodri stumbled on, blind to the demons sent to welcome them.
"The #old ways are done," shouted Rhodri above the ever-increasing violence of the storm. "You must leave them behind." "Would you leave me as well?" cried Morwen as the rain beat her down into the mud. She saw only a crazed fanaticism in his eyes. The ground shook.
From the darkness they came, teeth and claws ready to bite and #pinch, slash and rip. Rhodri ignored them. “Shadows, that’s all. The mind’s fancies, sent by the Devil to torment us,” said Rhodri. “They are nothing, Thunor is nothing.” An angry roar answered him.
#Swinging an axe, a giant emerged, staring down at Rhodri as if he were an an insect. Then he hefted his blade, smashing through a large boulder to their side, carving it as if it were butter. “Do you believe now?” he growled. “Thunor has sent me to welcome you.”
