RCG-I Seasonal Salon
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When Destiny Walked the LabrynthChapter 10: Ansel's MeetingA Grape Harvest Festival lasts for 13 days, the time it takes the moon to traverse through the final Metertide bow into the initial full Cronetide cycle of the turn. By the afternoon of the seventh day, the moon pregnant and ripening, Ansel had already attended the goat judging and the wrestling competitions, saw the running tournaments and an enactment of the newest drama by Psiperia, a playwright and poet reknowned throughout Kriti. She planned to attend a dog-herding event later this afternoon, but first, she had some business to conduct. As promised, her meta had arranged for her to tell the Priesera about her visions. The meeting was in the guest apartments at the Agronos, on the third floor. She ascended the elegant, central marble stairs with a heavy heart, dreading to speak again of what happened at Amnisos. She had to go alone, too; the Sister had insisted. She had debated whether to mention the second encounter on the beach and decided not to. She gently tapped on the heavy wooden door to the apartment. It swung inward and a young woman, barely older than Ansel herself, gestured for the girl to enter. Following her lead, Ansel thought, She must be a novice Priesera. She wears the open robes of the Priesera, but she has no knot on her bac, and no hat. Ansel took a deep breath and allowed herself to be guided to the cushioned bench in the apartment vestibule. She looked down at her hands folded carefully in her lap. A huge tapestry of orange lilies and blue swallows hung on the wall opposite her seat. She resisted the urge to chew her already ragged fingernails. Soon, a tall stern-looking woman dressed in the long, open-breasted purple robe and tall hat of the Priesera stepped gracefully out to greet her. When the Priesera turned her back to lead Ansel into the room serving as her office, Ansel stared at the looped rope knot attached to the robe, just between the Priesera’s shoulder blades. The knot of the Priesera was a symbol of prominence as significant as the double-headed axe itself. Only one who knew the mysteries of the net of life itself could wear it. Sister Allunea, as the Priesera introduced herself, was not unkind to Ansel, but her demeanor was so severe and her eyes such an impenetrable black that Ansel found looking into them disquieting. The Priesera stared, it seemed, long at Ansel without saying a word. Finally, her features softening somewhat, she said, “Tell me of your vision, child; what did you see at Amnisos?” “Yes, Priesera,” Ansel said. “I, uh, I was standing at the top of the cliff stairs, the ones carved into the foothill that leads down to Amnisos and the bay. I had just climbed them. I was returning home and turned around to look down upon the sea. Then the shake came and I was thrown to the ground. I hurt my ankle.” Unconsciously, Ansel reached to her ankle and rubbed it, as if the action might help her thoughts flow more easily. The Priesera said nothing, but nodded gravely, encouraging Ansel to continue. “Just moments later, the wave came.” The memory of the wave rushed back with astounding clarity. Ansel’s breaths became short, and her heart pounded so fiercely she could hear it in her ears. She found herself unable to speak further. Priesera Allunea reached forward and placed a surprisingly gentle hand on Ansel’s arm. Warmth radiated through the girl, and her heart gradually slowed. She looked into the Priesera’s gaze, surprised to see the solemn Sister’s eyes widened with compassion. Unwittingly, Ansel’s own eyes welled with tears. Clearing her throat, Ansel continued, tears rolling slowly down her cheeks. “The Caster of Nets appeared after the wave receded. I watched Her gather the souls of the fisherfolk. I thought I lost my mind. Maybe I did. I still do not know sometimes.” Priesera Allunea said with a wave of her hand, “Child, many people report visions after a shock such as you experienced. It is not a symptom of mind loss. Tell me, what did She look like to you?” “Huge and naked. Her hair was long and covered Her face until She looked up and spoke to me. But, Priesera…” Ansel reached out in sudden desperation to the Sister. She felt inexplicably that this woman could save or destroy her with mere words. “Priesera, for weeks, nay, even full cycles, after…Amnisos, I heard voices and saw faces. My waking was all bad dreams, and my dreams…they were even worse. I could not talk. I could barely eat. People tell me I muttered and sometimes screamed for hours on end. My meter says I was storm shocked, but, but, I felt inside like a clay pot dropped on a stone floor. I am afraid something within me truly shattered and that I can never again be whole.” A line appeared between the brows of the Priesera, and she chewed her lips momentarily. It made her seem almost human. “Ansel,” she said finally, “I have no simple reassurances for you; this would be dishonest. It may be true that some part of you broke that day and will never completely mend. But we are usually more flexible than we think. If you choose, you can heal and become even stronger for your experience. Also if you choose, you can let this tragedy claim yet another life – yours. The choice is truly your own, even if it does not seem this way to you now. No person lives a life completely free of pain and misfortune. What you make of that pain, how you use it, how you learn from it, these are tests of your character. You have received a dose earlier than many. No one but you will determine what you do with this pain you carry.” Ansel dropped her head. She’d heard the words of the Priesera, but like the message from the Caster Herself, the meaning confused her. Still, Sister Allunea had not said she was doomed to be mind-adrift as she’d feared. She wiped her eyes and said, “I thank you for your honesty.” Priesera Allunea made Ansel repeat the exact message from the Caster several times, asking her to think back carefully, to be as certain as possible she had every word correct. Finally, the Sister sighed and said, “Child, you were given a gift even at the moment of great disaster. Few besides the Seers are ever given a direct message from She who rules the Underworld. And yet so cryptic a message! What else can you remember? Perhaps the words are only a part of the meaning She wished to impart. It is important, please try.” “The only other thing I remember clearly is the color of Her eyes. They were like the deepest sea, shifting from light blue-green all the way to deep violet. I could not turn away from them. It was as though She held me immobile with them.” “Ai, child. That is the Caster for certain. No other Goddess has eyes so remarkable.” Allunea tightened her lips into a thin line, looked thoughtfully at Ansel for several moments, then said, “You had another experience? Tell me about that.” Ansel gasped. “How did you know that? I didn’t tell anyone. Not even Meta….” The furrow between Allunea’s brows returned. She said, “I didn’t mean to frighten you, child. In my concern for the content of the messages, I neglected to tell you I spun a thread of connection when I touched you before. For some, the thread brings clear knowing of important events of another’s life. Each Priesera who receives Ariadne’s thread is gifted differently. This is my gift. I cannot see exactly what this experience of yours was, only that it was important to you. Please, do not be afraid to tell me of it.” Ansel nodded, feeling both reassured and nervous. “I woke up very early in the morn. The opening feast was the eve before. I could not sleep and I thought to walk to the beach. I like to go to the beach at night sometimes and just look at the moon and listen to the waves.” “The same beach near Amnisos?” “Yes, it is the closest one to Knossos. The rivers surrounding the Agronos empty there.” Allunea nodded and Ansel continued, “I walked the beach, and then this woman appeared from the sea.” “She was human?” “She glimmered like no human. She was draped in a flowing garment. Her hair was like seaweed, thick, and it waved with the rhythm of the sea. She moved silently. I…I am reasonably certain she was not human.” “And she just appeared? You did nothing but walk? Were you in eukintos, an altered state?” “Um, I admit I was not just walking.” Ansel felt suddenly foolish. “I was singing and dancing to the moon. I had seen the Priesera dance and was imitating one of the dances.” Ansel glanced up from her lap to see if her admission to imitating the Priesera was offensive, but the Sister gave no outward indication. Priesera Allunea said, “The dances of the Priesera give rise to eukintos and in late eve or early morn the net between worlds is tattered. Yes, the woman could have been a Goddess then, though I am not certain who from your description. Many arise from the sea. What did She say?” “She said my prayers were heard. And then she raised her hand and, well, hit me with something.” “Hit you with something?” “I am sorry. That is a poor description, but it is how it felt to me. I saw a thread come from her palm, and when it reached me, it felt like she hit me with it.” “Where were you hit? Did it hurt?” “I was hit here.” Ansel pointed to between her breasts, “and no, it didn’t hurt exactly, but it took my breath away.” “A moment please.” Allunea again stared at Ansel, but this time her eyes were unfocused. After a moment, she raised an eyebrow and looked directly at Ansel again. “And you prayed to be Priesera?” “What? No.” But she felt a sudden pang. Maybe I did. But a Priesera? Like Meta? Like Gran? “Yet you wear the mark.” “What mark?” “The sacred knot in your radiance. Oh, it is not visible to most people. Only those who also wear the mark can see it and only then when they are trained. Goddess marks those who are her Priesera. It is Her call. You will need to come to the University for teaching. I will speak to your Meta, and we will discuss it further after the Kore ritual.” Copyright by the Kassandra Sojourner ~ All rights reserved |
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