Letting Go
The sounds of conversations where drowned out by the roar of giant bon fire. It was court night being hosted by the Crone. On the other side the local hirophant lead the others in a traditional Beltain ritual while the Little Dragon stood on the other side. Minutes seemed to pass in a haze as she stood captivated by the fire. The heat lashed out and occasionally wrapped around her only to be beat back by a cool breeze through the trees. Her hand fished through her pocket then came out to produce a small, carved spider that had been painted yellow. Carefully, she rolled it in her fingers for a last minute inspection. A sharp claw sliced its way into her index finger letting blood flow. Slowly she traced the letter D onto the back of it. The paint and wood hissed and spat as the blood bubbled and burned its way into the sculpture. Her lids closed as a sigh escaped her and with a simple movement tossed it into the fire. Gracefully it landed onto the embers and joined the flames.
Prick you finger it is done,
the moon has now eclipsed the sun,
the angel has spread its wings,
the time has come for bitter things...
Solemnly she turns from the flames and wanders into the woods to once again return into the darkness.
Prick you finger it is done,
the moon has now eclipsed the sun,
the angel has spread its wings,
the time has come for bitter things...
Solemnly she turns from the flames and wanders into the woods to once again return into the darkness.