Sapling To Oak

[Vada of the Caves]

Age and perspective went hand in hand. As the first climbed the ladder of time the second widened and with it the scope of the bigger picture tended to become more clear. While other people spent their lives searching for the whys and the reasoning's, Vada Buckley had focused more on the cause and effects. Her belief was simple: You could beat yourself over the head repeatedly for why something was done but it didn't change the fact that it was. No, what mattered was what would happen after. Likewise, it had not mattered why the girl had been chosen for her tutelage, though all would be revealed in time. What mattered was that Aingeal was to remain under her eyes and actions for the time being.

She was every bit cloaked in midnight. The one exception lay in her skin tone where the sun had seen fit to grace a bronze color. Vada herself stayed on the pale side of tan regardless of how much time she spent outside, which was considerable. Recitation beget candles, beget tendrils of haze as the worlds crossed paths and touched effortlessly. Innocent hazel eyes belied the harsher edge that existed as they met the deep brown of the Mother, for that is the embodiment that existed now. Mother and Maiden. Vada inhaled as the spark caught her attention.

Reflections of four years post this moment gazed back from Aingeal's eyes. There was no denying the sight, so present in her new charge.

- - - - - - - - - - -

Meticulous fingers dug gently at the soil. Every now and then her dark hair would pull up as she examined the leaves. Her eyes casting a glance to the petals disappointment shown clearly. Gingerly she cupped the inner blue with the yellow tinge. concentration etching her features she whispered aloud as she heard the steps behind her. "It's spreading. I've given it water and sunlight. And yet it does not strengthen."

"How long have you been observing it?" Vada's tone was soft but probing.

"It's been five sunrises. Each a little worse than the one before."

Leaning down for a closer look, her head almost even with Aingeal's she took in the scene. "You've aerated the roots?"

The young girl nodded. Her care of the Flax plant had been detailed in both action and written word. Reaching her hand out she patted the journal before handing it back to her mentor.

Scanning her notes, Vada exhaled. "If you cannot heal it...."

"I cannot do what you wish. It would kill the plant."

"Cannot or will not?"

"I do not see the difference." Her tone almost pleading.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Compassion and empathy often accompanied those who gleamed the possible through the eyes of others. This was worse when the seer was already solitary to begin with. Aingeal's heart had always been this way. She was capable of such trust, of such love with a fog of distance that very few mode through. Empathy could drag one's senses into that fog blacking out the ground from the sky and erasing all sense of the road they so desperately had clung to.

Such was her lamb....

[Deleted]

Much like the thousands of lily pads that hugged close to the shore, Aingeal’s skirt bloomed out from her waist float atop the water. Her hair several braids held the bulk of her hair from her face, except for the wisps that seem to defy their proper place.

“Aingeal?” Someone yelled from the high land that cradled the waters of the lake from plain view. “Aingeal… Lamb come along you have to finish your lessons…”

Vada even then was plump, the grey just started to highlight her hair. Ignoring her calls, Aingeal leaned back letting the water drown out the sound of her commands. The sun was high in the sky, its rays painting the land in a golden hue; warming the water to a temperature that made one think of a welcoming bath in the cold of winter. Opening her eyes the blurred image of Vada standing at the edge, her hands on her hips, made Aingeal smile beneath the water, lifting herself up, the water streaming over her face catching on the healing scars that marked her face redirecting its path over her dark skin, “Vada do not look so harsh.” Aingeal laughed.

“Lamb… " Vada's tone could not be mistaken by the cool control tone she chose to address her in, "The time of acting childish has passed. Come you must finish your work.” Splashing the water in defiance Aingeal made her way towards the shore, but the muddy bottom seems to want her to stay. Reaching the shore, the girl looked up at the woman that stood on the verge of Mother to Crone before her eyes. “Aingeal, soon I will send you from me, you know this, but we must finish. You must become the Priestess you were bred to be.” Vada held out her hand, the blue woad tattoos faded but as much a part of her as the ropey veins; Aingeal thought would her own markings seem a part of her.

The log snapped as the fire fed upon it, bringing Aingeal back to the small cottage she now shared with Minalan. The memories of her time on the far off Isle with Vada and the others seemed a million years away, but the dam began to leak. Was Vada there to save her from herself? To bring her back to her true calling? Micaela Amaya, had been her connection out among the People, but even she held ulterior motives, she was sure of it. Why else would she try to cleanse her of her place?

Taking a twig from the ash one end pointed, turned to charcoal. Standing and finding the bowl that held water from the sacred well, she peered in inspecting her face.
Unblemished.

The markings she earned washed away in some soiled magic. Aingeal took the charcoal marking her forehead as Vada did so long ago; Now she was ready to begin again.

[Vada of the Caves]

Her gnarled hands cut up the root of the Kava plant into small pieces before grinding them down even further with the stone mortar and pestle. Carefully she added the Yerba, a touch of Sage and a thumb of Ginger to counter any nausea. It had taken weeks to locate all of the proper components.

Ever a practitioner of patience and timing, only now as dawn of the equinox began did she place the mixture into the dark brown cloth satchel and begin work on the tea leaves. Knotted and tired, her hands began once more to grind down that which the Mother provided. Once the task at hand was finished she took her creation down to the water's edge west of the camps. A clay container in her other hand she dipped it into the cool surface and began the words thru even breathe as the ripples cascaded outward.

Even Dark and Even Light
Only now when time is right
What once was stripped and torn away
Is given back with Clarity

Bog Glàba

Si e kerdo!

Only a small amount of water was allowed to drip unto the leaves making sure the color was thick enough to last but thin enough to be able to pass the barrier of skin when needed. Returning to her tent, objects in hand she set them down on the table and flipped the very last card in the formation...