The Fickle Winds of Autumn

A light evening breeze drifted through the dense woodland as the carriage wheels crunched across the fallen leaves which littered the forest track.

The carriage slowed and rumbled to a halt.

Kira’s stomach nervously somersaulted in anticipation as Sister Maud unlocked the door and opened it into the hushed twilight.

A violence of goosebumps thrilled through Kira’s body as she stepped down onto the springy turf.

They were here! She had finally arrived!

Her weary legs were grateful to escape the cramped limitations of the carriage and feel the gravity of her blood pulse through them as she stood on solid ground once more.

The three days of relentless travel had quickly lost its glamour and she was relieved to finally get out of the rattling vehicle; her heightened senses bubbled and spilled, intoxicated by her new surroundings and the dizzying knowledge of the role she must fulfil there.

Even through the soles of her boots, the soft, yielding surface of the grass was a strange and unfamiliar sensation, unlike anything inside the stone architecture of the convent. She tapped her foot lightly on the cushioned ground while she waited for her fellow novicellae to join her, but the turf refused to leave an echo.

And to be here at the Sacred Grove!

A place she had heard so many stories and strange tales about; a place of special focus for those who could wield the magik; the revered heart of their powers.

She shivered in excitement at the thought that she, Kira, who had never even experienced life outside the barren convent walls before, was now breathing in its rarefied air and standing on its hallowed ground; the exalted location, where the legends of history and religion had collided across the centuries.

Her stomach churned itself giddy with exhilaration.

And she was not just there to sightsee; she was there to take part in an actual, real ceremony - something about witches, she had gathered from Sister Maud during the journey, and the evil menace they posed to the outlying towns and villages - although Kira could not help feeling that the witches could hardly be any more threatening or sinister than Sister Amelia Constance, be they never so wicked.

How jealous Amber would be when she told her all about it on her return.

“And remember girls - be on your best behaviour!”. The stern tones of Sister Maud jolted Kira back into the fresh forest evening, canopied beneath the densely thatched branches.Text property © Nôvel(D)ra/ma.Org.

“You are all ambassadors for the convent and its school: do not show us up or stand gawping at boys - it is not seemly for young ladies to look directly at boys or men, and I do not expect to encounter any such behaviour - or the Surrounder have mercy on you when we return home. Keep your gaze down and your thoughts on the purity of the moonlight.”

As she uttered this dire warning, sister Maud issued a particularly hard stare in Kira’s direction - although the sting of her words was defused by the great sense of occasion and the thrilling joy of their arrival.

The low autumn twilight had gathered in around them, and the violence of the woodland colours had faded into dim shades of grey, so the girls were permitted to leave the safety of the carriages without the shielding protection of their hoods.

Kira was glad not to feel the restrictive ties and fastenings pressing in around her head, and it also gave her wandering vision more scope to look around and observe some of the wondrous sights of this most significant and celebrated place.

Their carriages had stopped in a small clearing at one end of a long forest track, hemmed in by a thick curtain of trees and dense undergrowth.

A number of other vehicles and groups of people had already assembled; several fires burned brightly against the chill of the oncoming night; the smell of wood-smoke and roasting pork with apples mingled through the rich sweet scent of the forest earth and the damp leaf-litter.

Kira’s nose twitched, provoked by the tempting smells - but the close presence of sister Maud denied her any opportunity to go over and investigate, despite the urgings of her stomach.

Amongst the muted colours of evening, many of the people gathered there were dressed in a variety of robes and uniforms, each denoting their sect and rank - although Kira was not certain exactly what they all signified or who they all were, for she had never encountered such a glorious assortment in the isolation of the convent - or in any of the lessons she had managed to pay attention to.

As far as she could make out however, many more of those who were milling about, simply appeared to be townsfolk who had come to witness the wonders of the Great Ritual for themselves, or perhaps they were visiting on pilgrimage, so that the forest clearing had taken on the busy atmosphere of a yeartide celebration.

A narrow woodland path lead off from the far end of the clearing into the dense blackness of the trees. Several men took up positions along its winding length and held aloft flaming torches as they guided groups of priests and townsfolk through the forest.

But Kira’s eyes had already spent a lifetime wandering the dim corridors of the convent and were keen enough to pick out the way unassisted.

The two nuns counted heads and satisfied themselves that the girls presented a respectable enough appearance, and they all set off, following the rest of the crowds along the scrubby pathway as it twisted through the bracken and trees.

The girls chattered amongst themselves in hushed, excited voices, but Kira could still pick out the rustle of the evening leaves and snapping twigs on the path over the subdued hum of their conversations. She kept her eyes down to be sure of her footing in such an unfamiliar and undulating place.

Around a sharp corner, they all climbed up a short, steep incline. The thick palisade of trees suddenly halted to reveal a huge open flat plateau which stretched out before her in a perfect circle, surrounded by the dense forest, carpeted entirely with a deep luxuriant growth of curiously sparkling moss, which twinkled in the evening darkness.

The other girls stopped in front of her to gaze at the sight.

Kira’s greedy eyes forced her to pause too while she breathed it all in.

How beautiful it seemed; how magikal; just as she had imagined it might be in the depths of her classroom daydreams.

“There are the Five Beacons,” said Sara as she clasped her arms in excitement.

Kira’s eyes strayed to the outer perimeter of the circle, where five huge stone monoliths stood up boldly against the night.

“Yes, they say that each one represents one of the central cadences of magik - but no-one really knows for sure,” said Hettie.

“Or how long they’ve been there,” added Meg.

“Perhaps from the time when the crows were still white and the Wandering Mountains were still searching for a permanent home; or some think they could even have been placed there by the very hand of the Great Surrounder Himself, in order to help focus the power of His Believers,” said Hettie.

“Trust you to know all about it!” Meg giggled.

But Kira could see for herself that all the rumours about the magik of the Grove’s Heart were true - that despite its fertile position in the middle of an ancient forest, nothing but the thick carpet of dewy moss grew within the large raised platform of its circle; none of the surrounding trees had dared to grow across its boundary; none of their saplings or seeds had ever taken root or germinated there, if they had even been bold enough to fall there in the first place.

And without the covering canopy of the forest branches, or a curtain of encompassing trees, the vast dark sky suddenly opened out above them all.

The central intense moon stared down at them from near Her zenith, rich in tones of silver and blue; sweeping the plateau with the glory and purity of Her light.

Kira was forced to gasp at the shocking, breath-stealing sight; the immense weightless sky which towered above her; enfolding them all; majestic in its velvet darkness; higher than the tallest trees; more ancient than the forest itself; and splashed across it, the gleaming flashes of the inquisitive stars, who peered back down towards her, curious to witness the events as they unfolded on the tiny insignificant world far beneath them.

And yet, despite this vast open aspect and the slow evening clouds meandering by overhead, an eerily quiet atmosphere haunted the inner circle itself, becalmed of all winds or weather, so that even the slightest of sounds appeared to reverberate and ripple across it, intensified and fragmented by its rarefied sanctuary.

The sharp nudge of bodies from behind jarred Kira back to the dark night-time perimeter, as other groups of the Faithful, still walking along the path and anxious to reach the Heart of the Grove for themselves, pushed past her, determined to arrive at their destination before the ceremony started.

Kira shivered uneasily, but was not certain why, and pulled her cloak tighter across her shoulders, as she hurried on to catch up with the rest of her classmates before their two chaperones had time to notice she had not kept up with the group and seized yet another opportunity to scold her.