Samhain Story
by Blayze

It is late afternoon and an old woman is slowly walking westward across low hills. She leans heavily on a thick blackthorn staff, her body hunched over beneath a black mantle. Her long silver hair is crowned with woven poppies, cornflowers and pomegranates. She is walking across the hills towards a deep blue sea that is glimpsed in the distance. 

As she walks, wind lifts her hair in silver sheets, and her mantle blows back from her body. Her gown is as black as her mantle, but trimmed at cuff and hem with a thick embroidery of wheat sheaves, branches of ripened apples and red-shouldered hazel. About her waist is a girdle of vines and dark grapes. The wind becomes stronger and her mantle strains at its clasp of yew sprigs.

Slowly her path takes her downwards to the shore. As she walks the gentle slopes, the sun blazes in the west as it too descends. She walks the path of the sun as it kisses the sea and shore. 

Finally she arrives at the water's edge. Still leaning heavily upon her staff, she steps from the sand into the beam of the setting sun upon the waves. She walks upon the red-gold rays that seem solid beneath her feet. As she walks, the sun rests upon the horizon and her hair appears golden for a moment. Hair and mantle streaming around her, she walks ever onward towards the setting sun. 

Finally the sun sinks into the west and the old woman steps upon another shore. An island, hidden in the glare of fading light, sits alone in the western sea. The shore is wild with salt spray upon the rocks, waves crashing upon grey cliffs.

As the twilight fades to true dark, small points of light appear on cliff and crag. They dance amongst stones and small bushes that cling gamely to the thin soil. These are fireflies and they light a path that leads upwards from the small beach of the old woman's landing. A path that leads to a cave within the cliffs. The old woman follows the fireflies as they dance their dance in the Otherworld.

She walks the path, feeling her way with her staff. There is grief and sadness in her eyes, but joy is there too. 

Finally she reaches the cave. Silver vines like spiders' silk shot with midnight, shroud the cave's entrance. The old woman reaches out with her staff and the veil of vines parts before her. Beautiful music echoes from the walls of the cave as, with a soft sigh of longing, she crosses its threshold.

The cave is very large and the walls have a soft green glow that is highlighted by more of the dancing fireflies. At either side of the cavern is a pool of water with a glass-like surface. 

The Lady moves to the pool at her left. Carefully she places her staff upon the ground beside her and then reaches up to remove her crown. She takes the woven circlet of poppies, cornflowers and pomegranates and places it upon the surface of the pool. There it floats for a moment, before sinking slowly in a stream of silver jewel-like bubbles.

The Lady takes up her staff once more and moves to the right-hand pool. Once again she lays her staff beside her, but this time it is her girdle that she removes. She places the woven vines and grapes upon the surface of the pool. It too floats for a moment before it's descent, this time in bubbles of gold.

Again, taking up her staff, she walks forward between the pools, her offerings accepted and given with love. By the light of the fireflies it can be seen that she is approaching a large chasm where the floor of the cavern has fallen away. Shadows writhe in its depths, shadows of memory, not fear.

Beyond the chasm rises the back of the cave that looms above a large stone altar. A figure can be glimpsed sitting enthroned upon it. Small flickers of gold are seen in the fireflies' gentle glow.

The lady moves to the edge of the chasm. She takes from her mantle the sprigs of yew that held it closed. The mantle falls in dark drapes to the ground at her feet and she throws the sprigs into the air. They hang above the chasm for an instant and then fall into its depths. She holds aloft her staff, bent back straightening with effort.

A mighty wind rushes from deep within the heart of earth and her hair, no longer contained by her crown, is blown back from her wrinkled face. Shadowy figures emerge from the chasm, brushing past the Lady as she grips her staff. The shadows take on a human shape and touch her with gentle caresses of love before they fly the winds to the entrance of the cave and beyond.

The wind's sigh is added to music that echoes from cavern walls, music of longing, of grief and love... music of mystery.

The Lady now lowers her staff and makes a bridge of it across the chasm. She takes up her mantle and throws it across the staff, a black path of shadow and night now shot with rainbows in warp and weft.

Wearing only her embroidered gown, the Lady walks across her new-made bridge towards the altar on the other side. The altar with its gold-hued occupant, now sitting with arms outstretched in welcome.  The Lady's hair seems to shade to gold once more, her back straightens, yet is still bowed as her form shifts back and forth. Her hair, now silver, now gold, now silver again.

She steps from the bridge and shivers in the cold air. The figure upon the altar stands up. It is a tall, strongly built man covered with the scars of old battles that can be clearly seen upon his naked skin. Upon his head sits the gilded skull and antlers of a King Stag. Tattoos of wheat, hazel and apples weave across his skin amongst the scars, echoing the embroidery of the Lady's gown.

He bows low before her and then reaches behind him to take something from the altar. It is another skull, this time a gilded human skull cunningly worked into a cup. She sinks to her knees before him as he passes her the cup filled with dark red wine. Slowly she sips the liquid, it stains her lips to ruby red. She passes the cup back to him, the Lord of Death and Resurrection.

He takes the cup from her hands and drains the cup. He then sends it spinning into the chasm before him. He takes her hands and assists her in rising. They embrace. No longer bent or old, she stands straight and tall. Her hair is golden now, no trace of silver remaining. Her face is smooth and white, her skin soft. 

Slowly their embrace ends and with tender hands, he removes her gown. The beautiful maiden of his past and his dreams, stands before him. Gently he lays her upon the altar. He kisses her feet, her knees, her womb, her breasts and her lips as one by one, the fireflies' glow winks out.

In darkness, the Lord and Lady have found each other again. As the spirits fly between the worlds, she has crossed the veil to join with him. Love and light will be born to the world once more.

The passion of their union within the cave echoes across the worlds, spirits dance to its rhythm upon the hills and faery fire glows within the mists, for this is Samhain night!