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The church is enveloped in black. Heavy drapes hang from rafters, and soft funeral music plays from some unseen speaker. The Crone is in mourning, for her children suffer the worst of the curse.
The summe solstice, the march of death, has come to Sacramento.
David waits at the altar, sacrificial knife and goblet placed there, as he waits for the others to arrive. He is dressed in torn black robes, and has ashes in his hair.
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Chris is as well dressed in black clothes, though he wasn't entirely sure how to dress himself black. However, as he enters the church and sees David and his torn robes, he doesn't feel bad about his choice of clothes. When someone says mourning clothes he normally thinks of a nice suit, but this wasn't a normal situation of course.
His own athame was under his coat, but he left his katana in his car. Chris hopes he doesn't need a sword tonight.
The Acolyte bows to his Hierophant, and waits for further instructions.
Chris
Bogdana enters the church, a grave expression in her face. She wears a black skirt to her ankles and a black heavy blouse to her wrists. Her hair is tied within a black scarf. She bows to the Hierophant and the Vala.
She feels a bit like a child who has failed to show her homework. But whatever, until the night before she didn't even have a bed to call someone to it... What wasn't done wasn't, there was nothing she could do about it except listen to whatever the Hierophant had to say about her and do whatever he wanted done. She waits for the older Cultists to start the ritual, still a bit unsure of what she was supposed to do tonight.
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David nods as the two enter, the circle is complete. This is his first time to share his message of the Unified Crone. The first time that he is in charge. He is suprised that he isn't nervous. He feels invigorated.
There once was a young woman who waited for the sun to rise. She sat in the predawn hours of her home, her children asleep, watching the eastern sky for the sun to come. It brought life to her farm, life to her children's eyes, life to the river. She did not have to wait long, for it was the summer sun that rose at the 5th hour.
She became an old woman, who waited for the sun to set. She glared at the western edge, waiting for the cursed sun to go. It had burned her crops, drying them into brittle nothingness. It had dried her river, making a dust-caked basin. It had burned her skin, bringing meaningless pain to her. It had revealed her children, and they were found and killed by the villagers. The cursed orb would not set.
5. 6. 7. 8. It was not untill the 9th hour that it finally was gone, and darkness was present. The old woman relaxed into the embrace of the darkness, which would not burn her, which would conceal her pain of lost children, which would give a drop of moisture to her ailing crops.
The Messenger of the Crone came to her that night. She did not bring a message of meaningful suffering to her, as she had done to the pagans of the villages. She did not bring a message of the Crone's voice, as she had to the Hierophants for the city. She did not bring a message of retribution as she had to the heretics that had twisted the visage of the Crone. She brought no words at all.
The Messenger gave the woman the Crone's Blessing, for she understood what hundreds of kindred, wise and aged, did not.
She understood the summer sun.
David steps down from the lectern, and motions for the two to join hands with him, forming a circle. He raises their hands to the sky.
The summer sun kills. It kills our streams, leaving barren wastes. It then kills our crops, drying them into dust. It kills our beasts, with thirst and hunger. It kills our food, from burning their skin and choking them with heat. It kills indiscriminately, without mercy, without judgement, without caring about why others die. Meaningless death, tha kills just to kill. We mourn them now, the vampires of our past, who died to the merciless sun. Some ignorant ones embraced the sun, seaking the life it once gave. Some foolish ones tested themselves against its power. Some enlightened ones were dragged out by enemies of the Crone, seeking to destroy the knowledge she has graced us with.
"We mourn them all."
how this works
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Chris first had a gleeful feeling when he realized he was in a true Circle again. When his Hierophant speaks the Acolyte listens carefully, and soon becomes mournful. He was impressed by the story. When I hear this I know I'm young and inexperienced, for I could never tell such tales.
Thoughts of the sun make his mood even sadder. The sun, the one thing he would never see without feelings of agony. The sun, the source of life, the thing he as a shadow would always flee for. However, it is a pain he could share with others, and that unity is what he feels as he takes the hands of the others and forms a Circle.
'We mourn them all.' And he did.
Bogdana looks down, thinking of a sun she would never see again. A sun she didn't want to see again; even when she breathed and ate and her heart beat without her own effort, it had been exactly like her Hierophant said: the sun would reveal what should not be seen, she would be found by those wanting to do her harm.
The night also had her predators, sure...
... But now she was one of them.
And if the sun was already to be feared back then, today he was a merciless murderer, taking the unlifes of her kin.
"We mourn them all."
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"This is a time of mourning, we mourn our brothers and sisters of the Crone's Blessing, destroyed by its rays.
We also mourn for ourselves, as a farmer mourns for the milk cow that dies. Our food is happier now, and grows fat on wine and fruit. But our time to hunt them is destroyed, our time to feed is killed.
The Sun kills us by Light. The Sun kills us by Hunger.
The Sun kills us. We mourn our deaths.
Today is the day the sun burns strongest. The day of the longest fire. On this day we are at our weakest. The day the humans are at their strongest. They would burn fires on this day, great bonfires so large that the fires would reach for a dozen yards high. They would test themselves against the flame, against might of the Sun-on-Earth. They would cook their meat over these bonfires. And they would burn those that worshipped the Crone, burn those that worshipped the trurth.
They would burn us, and we would die.
They would burn us, and it truly was the Sun-on-Earth, as it blackened our skin and burned us to ash. And they would burn our worshippers, those humans we had shown a glimpse of the truth, and who were not afraid. Fire would bring them fear, to see their fellow worshippers brought down by heat and smoke.
The Sun kills us. It kills us by Light. It kills us by Hunger. It kills us by Fire.
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David takes his hands back and goes up to the lectern, removing a knife and a goblet. The knife is simple, as is the chalice.
"This is a time of sadness, we weep and mourn for those who are gone."
He takes the knife and slices the skin just under his eyes, and forces the blood out. For a minute, he closes his eyes, and lets blood from the wounds pool into the goblet, before passing the goblet and knife to Chris. The wounds cease to bleed, leaving behind red stains on his cheeks.
"I am in mourning, for all of my fellow vampires who have suffered the Sun."
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For a moment, Chris found his Hierophant so intriguing that he almost became scared. I've never felt the Sun, but I have certainly felt Fire.
He takes the goblet and the knife. A second he looks at the blood, he smells it, and wonders if any spiritual powers would be enhanced by it right now. Then Chris holds the knife close to his eyes, but waits a moment. He had cut himself before, but never so close to his eyes and it was a... new experience. Ah hell, can't differ a lot from contact lenses. And he slices himself on the same place as David had done.
'I am in mourning, for all of my fellow vampires who have suffered the Sun.' Slowly the thick blood drops fall down in the goblet, after which he passes the tools on to Bogdana.
Bogdana takes the goblet and the knife, and looks inside the later for a few moments, as if hesitant. Then, it fades away; with decision, she slices the flesh under her eyes and lets the blood flow. She's crying now.
"I am in mourning, for all of my fellow vampires who have suffered the Sun."
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