THE DANCE OF BELTAINE (A NARATION):

THE DANCE OF BELTAINE (A NARATION):

A Story by zogzog

Very little has changed here. We are a simple people consisting of shepherds and fishermen. As a youth, I never envied my peers who sailed away to the mainland’s to find jobs within the cities. Besides, they usually only became victims by the enemies of the state anyway, harassed and brutalized by the political puppets of the rich elite. Gaining technologies for their own violent and selfish needs to dominate and suppress the innocent peoples who desired not to be caught up in their bloody war. Like some giant web, we somehow seem to get caught within the dreadful structure of the political view. The blood in our veins flows wild here, which is never easily tamed or subdued. Perhaps it is because of the "real freedom" which we experience here on the Island.

Content, I have stayed upon the homeland where the cliffs overlook the sea. A goddess to me, a friend, it is my duty to remain loyal to the life within her depths. For the sea, far more ancient than my people here, surely then must be wiser. With secrets holy, and secrets forebodingly dark, only life itself can imagine what she may conceal.

The archeologists, who study here, and on the surrounding islands as well, have found many Madonna’s made of stone. They were thought to have been made by the Christians who arrived here during the 5th Century AD, but now it has been proven they predate Christianity. Which, for them, just adds to the many mysteries there are upon these giant stones among a vast and endless sea, such as the ancient legends of Druids and the many tales of the young witches calling monsters out of the lakes and sea. What is natural for some sadly is a great mystery to others. Perhaps like their Christianity, reality is brought forth by faith. Our people have never been influenced much by the religion. If at all, by name only. Since their barbarous acts only slaughtered countless numbers of our kin, who could blame us? The stupid hypocritical fools can't even practice what they so ardently will kill for.

It is now the month of April; soon Ba'el shall bring upon us, once again the newness of his kindness through the Great Mother Domnu as she awakes from her sleep. The birds shall soon begin singing, the flowers shall again spring forth in abundance, and the dark winter shall be but passing. Again we shall celebrate in the lanes and upon the seasides, "The Dance of Beltaine," the fire of our God and the warmth of our sun, and the marriage of Heaven and Earth, and of man and woman. To this precious and ancient Lord we shall again give back to him what He has given us, the rebirthing of the sacred gift, the gift of life.

Briget’s beauty surpasses all the women of the island. Her golden hair is as bright and shimmering as the sun dawning from the dark waters. Her eyes are as bright and blue as a sacred stream. Two years have passed now since we had taken our wedding vows within the holiness of the circle. This Beltaine will be the most special day of our lives. For on this Beltaine, we are the ones chosen to represent our Gods, Ba'el and Domnu, Sun and Earth, Moon and Sea. What a holy day this shall be for us as the constellations align.

I married my love near the stones. By the traditions of our people it is where most ceremonies are held. It is a sacred place, a magic place. Little girls dance as they dress in white with the many colored flowers of May upon their brows, and as they pound upon their goat skin drums, the little boys are painted blue. What wonders there are here, upon the day the sun sets on the eve of our great Lord as he eagerly awaits the awakening of his love?

Today, the children and all the young ladies are gathering flowers and berries, and singing to the tunes the musicians are playing. There are harps, violins, mandolins, flutes and of course, the intoxicated drummers of blue. This is the last day of April, when the sun set’s, it will then be the "Eve of Beltane." Above, the seagulls soar, as the people read their future by the waves of the wind that gently guides the great bird's destiny. For friends of men, they too eagerly await the enchantment, and their flying reveals only what the seer may see.

The bonfires of festival are beginning to burn as the sun is setting in its due position. The dancing of the children is in unison to the drummers and the players of the violins. The music of the tinkers is sad and melancholy. With Briget by my side, we listen as the people drink and dance to the wonders of the innocent magic as we wait for the initiations to begin. The waves of the Atlantic are roaring. Loud, like peels of thunder, our great sea beckons us, demanding us to listen, and to watch for her prophetic vision of reckoning.

The sun is now peeking over the horizon for the time has now arrived. Suddenly out of the sea came a great ball of light. A ball of fire, hovering and glowing like the great fire of Ba'el. Our life giver; our redeemer, and our God. The ball then dispersed and hovered over the stones as they began luminating like lamps of electric light. Out from the middle of the stones came another light ascending from the Earth. It was Domnu, the Great Mother, as she appeared with great beauty, she held a female child within her arms. She then called us forth to stand in the center of the circling stones. As we stood within the luminous oracle of stone it was then the Great Mother spoke, "As you represent us upon this solstice, you give your lives honorably to the Gods. So this child, I give to mankind, a redeemer, a priestess, a savior, and a warrior. You will call her
"Camma." She will be the knowing one of your people. Through her you shall endure." Leery we were of this prophesy, and of Domnu's gift, because legend tells us her children were a representation of all that is dark and evil, but we accepted gladly for the fear of offending this most powerful deity. Domnu then ascended into the sky as the light then fell like snow into the sea disappearing like ashes from a winter fire.

The festival of Beltaine was nearly at an end, when suddenly there were shots from machine guns, we watched as soldiers were approaching from the shore in another vicious and brutal attack against our people. Here, as innocent and sacred as life is, change, unfortunately is also inevitable. As the "internationale" arises, the innocent then must suffer. Before me were men, women, and children falling as their robes of white were soaked in red. Rather then to cry, rationalize, or feel fear or anger, I took Briget as we ran to the hillside, to make our way to the other side of the island. I knew within my heart that if no one else had escaped, then they all surely must be dead from the attack of theses unholy terrorists.

When we arrived we noticed three young women praying to the watery depths.
As they were calling for the vindication of their people, they were chanting,
"Oh, Great Domnu
We call forth now your children
From the bottom of your endless sea
Oh, Great Mother
Vindicate us
As we pray before thee."

The footsteps of the soldier’s march and their apparent shouts and laughter made us aware they were following and coming closer. Climbing to a small crevice within the cliff rocks, Briget and I made a place to hide. Hurrying behind us also were the three young women we had seen chanting. We all reached the small cave and could see clearly the ocean below us. We gave our thanks to the Gods that for now we went unnoticed on the cold, wet, and misty morning.

Out in the distance we noticed several portions of the water growing dark. Something large was moving closer to the soldier’s vicinity and it was not alone. Without warning from the mouth of the cave in which we were hiding reared a head. What peered at us had an intelligence of pure horrific evil. With eyes of a cloudy, and milky gray it stared at us with its pitch-black slimy face as it opened its mouth to reveal three large cutting plates each armed with hundreds of razor sharp teeth. For an instant it observed us, only to inform us it knew of our presence. It then disappeared to feast with its companions on the soldiers below.

Looking below we could see the soldiers trying helplessly to escape from these scavengers of the sea. With their cutting plates, the creatures had locked onto their victims. I covered Briget's ears to prevent her from hearing the carnivorous slurping and sucking sounds as these monsters slowly fed on their victims for several hours. The screaming of the soldiers slowly dwindled, when in weakness by near death and loss of blood they could finally scream no more. When the incident was over the creatures slithered back into the dark depths from which they came.

We are now sailing for the mainland. There are twenty people other than Briget and I who had survived the slaughter of the murdering "globalist." The ocean is cold, and soon we will have reached the western shore of Scotland. To our Gods we give our thanks, for surviving the horrors of the world outside, and for the sacred godchild within the womb of my lovely wife.


2000

© 2012 zogzog


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Added on December 15, 2012
Last Updated on December 15, 2012