Fiat Lux

[c0rzilla]

Old Ways, New Home

              Tucked away in the woods of Elwynn between the forking paths to Stormwind and Northshire, an altar had been erected. A tiny thing, likely easily portable. Polished hawthorn, a few inches high, and a foot across. Carved upon its surface was a circle of thorns. No altar to the Light was this. This table was dedicated to the ancestors and the Old Ways. The human faith before the Light, and the magic before the corrupting arcane brought by elves. It faced East, the direction of the sun's rising.

              Having just finished an opening blessing of the altar, the young Harvest Witch Roux Blackwood knelt in front of it, she too facing East. A yard or so off, stood a fellow countryman; a woodsman named Hadrian Wood. He kept watch on the path they took to the temporary sanctuary for their old rites to greet Spring. So close to Northshire, the chance of interlopers was not minuscule. The red-headed Witch gave the materials on the altar one last glance-over, then began the rite.

              Picking up a small sickle with an oaken handle--a basic instrument, gifted by her mother--she stood and lifted it into the air.

"I give greetings to the Mother of things wild,
of skies and of waters. I do call upon you,
Lovely Lady to be here with me."

              With those opening lines upon the air, Roux began to dance with the blade. Hadrian glanced over his broad shoulder to her. Twilight-grey robe flared as she spun to each corner, lifting her arms to greet each Element of the world. Soon enough, she stood again upon the Western side of the little altar, facing out Eastward.

"Blessed by the words of the First Mother
and the laughing Father of the Goldfield.
Let now thy great light come into me.
I am a cup to be fulled,
that I may do what is needful.
Blessed ever be the Lord and Lady!"

              Lowering her arms in open greeting, she set her gaze upon a small idol upon the altar. Simple, almost generic its lines, the female idol's carved eyes peered back up at the young daughter of the Order.

"Lovely Lady, great Lord, I present to you
the guardian of this house, the special spirit
I have invited into my home as protector and helper.
I honor this spirit in the symbol of its being.
Great Ones, bless this guardian of this house.
And to your blessings, I add my thanks.
Blessed Be."

              Home. Her real home was far away North; Gilneas. Even so, a follower of the Old Ways could find shelter under any branch. That thought strengthening her, Roux dropped to her knees trade her wand for a small bottle of perfumed oil. She let a few drops fall onto the Mother idol. A wooden goblet of wine is then held in both of her pale hands. Moved from the Western edge of the altar into the center of the carved thorn circle. Roux's arms lift, grip tightening on the goblet, the liquid offered skyward.

"Honor to the Old Ways!
Merry meet, and merry part,
And merry meet again!"

              The wine was then brought to her lips for a small, though slow sip. A sigh, bearing the scent of the drink escaped afterward as the cup was lowered. Fingertips dipped into the red, then flicked towards the Mother idol. The drink shared with her ancestors. She hoped their spirits tasted it, though their bodies slept in their Homes in Gilneas. Finally, she tipped the goblet, its contents spilling onto the warm, Southern earth. The wine shared with Ancestors of other families she knew not.

              She cast her glance back to Hadrian with a small smile. He returned it reassuringly, accompanied by a tip of his frayed top hat. The ritual to greet Spring--though a couple weeks late--was done. After gathering her supplies into her satchel, Hadrian hefted up the altar, and both made their back back into the white city.