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Index Author's Note:
Somewhere between the dusk and daydreams can be found
memories of my first festival. That, I and think Calvin and Hobbs had just
perfected their transmogrification gun.
Of Dreams and Imagination:
Now it is hard to remember just where the dream left off and imagination and wishful fantaziation began, but the following is an account of my transmogrification at the festival sometime to come.
I was waiting for change, ripe for difference. The women of the Circle were collected from the Four Quarters and came together to attempt something not done in a very long while.
Many others were gathered in the wooded preserve that year, but only a few - perhaps 15 or less - were encircled about me - standing on dry earth - enrobed in all colors...and always with white, blinding in brilliance and self-radiating as the end of the day saw twilight slip into dusk. The woman held hands and their heads were uplifted and looking, each, above those on the opposite side of their Magick Circle. As if singing, each mouth was open - yet each was silent - and deep within the concentration of the rite and the moment.
In the center was a body of water, deep and shallow, as there were rocks rising from below to allow a man to kneel and be in water just past the brestline. The water was neither warm nor cold, but as if invisible to the skin. No waves...they seemed to damp out as quickly as they were made. Magick kept the waters still. No fish plied the water, nor insects or impurities of any kind. Crystal blue and nearly back in the deepening evening.
Others from the festival were curious and came to see, keeping a respectable distance from the circle of Priestess. Most left soon after arriving, for this was a private matter. None were witness to my tale when did it unfold, nor to the women when their act they did complete.
Some of the powerful stood on true earth, some on dry rocks...but the Circle was perfect and complete. I was at peace knowing where I was, and yet I could not but be filled with wonder. I anticipated the change, but still harbored some small doubt as to the likelihood of my transmogrification. I was approached and told of their intent...and agreed, for reasons I know not. And so did I find myself, with water nearly to my chin, surrounded by a circle of priestesses as the sun finally fell into slumber and the night began.
Only the most thinnest sliver of a new crescent moon could be seen in the sky, just above the trees which ringed the grove about the water and myself. And time did seem to stop, as the women all laughed and were happy amongst themselves in small groups when their act of concentration was complete, and the transmogrification done. They left in what seemed an instant, though I know I was not paying attention to them. Rather, to myself was I concerned, feeling strangely different beneath the water. But I did not touch myself, and instead kneeled still until I was taken into slumber.
I awoke, still in the water, kneeling as I was when last I saw the sun. It would be several minutes before the first ray of dawn would illuminate the distant horizon with the announcement of the impending day, and I was happy - anticipatory - ready. So I stood, and found my legs now new, reversed and cloven. For I was now of Pan's race.
Each passing moment saw new rays initiating the day's splendor through the leaves, down upon the dew engemed grass. My gaunt was steady, though I expected it not to be, and I walked the path back to the festival village and my campsite. Others nodded and smiled, acting strangely unsurprised at the site before them. Only the children showed a curiosity; one not tainted with fear but full of wonder. A pleasant surprise, like knowing your mom has anticipated your very thoughts and today, as a special treat, will flag down the Good Humor truck on this hot summer day. And it felt good, the hands of those children, against that which was I, but half beast... And we laughed, and sang, and exchanged stories. Strangely was I filled with youth again.
Little else do I remember about that day, save that, like most festivals, a good time was had by all and even the chores took on a special sense of playfulness. As evening fell upon the campsite, the fires of cooking hearths were lit, for certainly they were not needed for warmth. In retrospect I find it strange to remember no insects, bothers, cries or harsh words. Rather, as if the world had been placed under a peaceful trance, with each living creature dancing in perfect synchronisity in the grand choreographed pattern of the god's design. So filled with anticipation for the Evening Ritual that I remember not with whom I broke bread or with what was my hunger satisfied.
Scents, sights, sounds surrounded me, as we all held hands about the unlit cords soon to lick the sky with tongues of sunlight, stored for this night by an elder pine. As the voices of the gathered rose with single mind and a rich bevy of harmonics, the Priestess and Priest of the Circle drew near the timbers, dedicated the passage of the life given to our love, and set the night awash in a new beginning. Laughter and the sounds of joy were thick in the conversation enjoyed, and any frown so unfortunate to pick that spot to manifest itself would surely have found the environment most to its dislike.
A small flute. A drum's deep beat began the inexorable assent of the gathered's emotions, mirroring in human dance the firepit's luminous effervescence. Each took their turns above and over the brightness, and each time I did leap the logs did the flames climb higher, kissing my hooves, my self, my whole being. Each time the strong new legs and the black hooves bit into the earth and lifted me into the release of flight. And each time did I feel the earth reclaim her son with increasing finality.
And at the height of the emotion, in a nova of light and an outpouring of sparking embers did I pass through the flames a fifth and final time, returning to the arms of my wife as I was before my transmogrification. The dancers continued to spiral about the embers to harp and flute and guitar, slowly diminishing in number as the satisfied drifted off to their campsites for gentle words, wine and slumber.
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