Sunrise Over the Mawn

A hill mound dominates the immediate skyline. Two circular stone formations are situated on the wide flattened hilltop. Twelve stones - each roughly the height of a man, weighing ten times as much, and equally spaced by the length of a man outstretched from fingertip to fingertip - form the outer ring. The inner circle - six stones at a height nearly twice that of a man and twenty times the mass, spaced just as equally as the outer ring. The stones have been aligned to capture the sun specifically on this morning.

Long ago, this place was given the name of Brigadgen Mawn, why or by what people has since been forgotten. The far more popular and fantastical belief is the Hill embodies the spirit of Brigadgenedig. A Goddess who mothers the dead into their next life. The stone ring monument was constructed as a sacred site for rituals and ceremonies. Believers are instructed to deposit remains of the dead in the center of the inner ring on the morning of the Winter Solstice for Brigadgenedig to receive and reward with new life.

A small conclave of High Druids are locked in chant at base of the structure. Lower Druids assist the crowds of people arriving en masse.

Similar congregations are gathering throughout the known world at comparable structures of stone, timber, and earth. All having one belief or another for the purpose behind the celebration. A collection of human understanding fractured by specifics but unified in the acknowledgement and acceptance, that this morning marks the end of a period of cold, long, dark, nights.

Life can begin again.

A new dawn is waiting just below the horizon.

******

On the west side of Brigadgen Mawn, a road has been dug by generations of congregants having made the walk up the hill. In the waning hours of night, families huddle together on the road, and scatter about grassy hillside. The late arrivals scramble to find a suitable position in the back.

A great majority have traveled with remains of loved ones they have been saving, awaiting this morning of rebirth.

Others travel out of tradition. An annual pilgrimage both spiritual and social in practice.

A familial habit.

Wulf, a young man arrives with his wife Ana, having traveled for five days to reach this most celebrated of places. They like most, have traveled with much of their possessions fit in a wearable pack made of skins and furs. Ana unfurls out a large aurochs fur on the ground as blanket for her and Wulf to sit. Wulf unpacks a few scraps of food.

“It’s more crowded than before.” says Wulf

“You say that every Solstice.” Ana quips back

“No I mean, it, we arrived this same time last Solstice and we were so much closer. I can barely hear High Druids.”

“I can hear fine, maybe it’s just your ears.”

“My ears are perfect, I can hear a rat taking a shit in a rainstorm. It’s not my ears.”

Ana laughs at this, Wulf smiles as well.

“We certainly weren’t as crowded as before.” As Wulf says this, Lower Druids are positioning newly arriving families tightly together, trying to squeeze as many people into as much real estate as possible.

“You are right about that, but, remember Taranwen burnt down, all those people must have come here.”

Wulf nods in agreement with his wife. In deed, the great timber monument know as Taranwen was mysteriously reduced to ash a few weeks prior. Parishioners of Taranwen, seeking a new center of devotion, would need to travel an extra week to reach Brigadgen Mawn.

“Beautiful just beautiful, isn’t it my love. Ah, you know you hear about a place but it just can’t compete with seeing with your own eyes.” A voice says from behind Wulf.

“Of course it can’t compare with Tegocelydd, but let’s be honest not much can.” says Derwen, the owner of the voice.

“You are so right my love, so right. Though we are a bit far away wouldn’t you say, I can barely make out the High Druids, I hope they haven’t started the ceremony.” answers Rokena, his wife.

Derwen does not hesitate to form community with those around him. He makes polite with other families, before engaging with Wulf.

“Gwen Awel! I am called Derwen and this my lovely Rokena… They haven’t started the ceremony, have they, you know for the dead?”Derwen asks.

“Gwen Awel…and no, not yet, this is the pre-ritual incantations, it charges the site with its power or something.” Wulf responds. “The air is turning cold so I think dawn is approaching soon.”

“Ok, will they make an announcement you think or ring a bell or something, you know to let everyone know to bring up their dead?”

Wulf turns to see three sacks piled up near Derwen and Rokena.

“We have them all ready to go, we have my mother, here” Rokena points down at a soggy one. “And then our children here in the others. This one has twins if you can believe it.” Rokena holds up a particularly bulky sack.

“We haven’t had too much luck with the children you know, keeping the little ones alive… they never seem to want last too long, I guess the spirits just have other plans for our young ones. They must need them more than us. But we just keep trying, one of them is bound to stick.” Derwen says.

Wulf is at a loss of words but can only nod in agreement, or sympathy, he’s not quite sure, but Derwen looks satisfied nonetheless.

“Gwen Awel! I am Ana of Lindubra, this is my husband Wulf of Lindubra. You should have received a length of dyed fur from the Druids, when you got here. Tie it to your arm or something so they see it and they will come by to pick them up.” Ana says.

“What’s this? we can’t even bring the remains up ourselves?” Derwen asks.

“No, people used to bring it up themselves, but it took too long and some would get upset if the light moved off before they could place their bones. And others thought people walking up whenever they wanted was disrespectful. So to make sure everyone gets Happy and gets equal light, they come around now to collect them.”

“A little impersonal wouldn’t you say, you know it’s our loved ones, we’ve been hauling them around with us these many months, it should be us going up there. Not some Lower Druid who’s just going to dump the sacks like a heap of trash. You remember at Brynelen, with Ranog and Sare, we placed them right ourselves, even let me say a few words to them. We really felt apart of the process. Now that was a Solstice. They knew how to do it right.”

Wulf shrugs, “This is just how we do it here.”

Ana can sense the frustration building in her husband, she tries to make friends.

”Are you from Brynelen, we haven’t seen you here before?” Ana says

“Oh no, no, we travelled up through Taranwen actually. But we spent last solstice at Brynelen. And then it was Cairnnodens, the summer before that, and then Morwyn was it? For the winter?”

“Taraskald, remember, water fell, the sky was flashing , and the darkness blocked the light, and the Druids declared the spirit dead. Morwyn was in summer.” Rokena replied

“Oh right, right. A sad thing really, at Taraskald, it all washed away. The ceremony shrine was made of dirt. People were all crying and wandering off, just leaving the dead they brought there, just dropped them right in the mud. And the Druids, oh they didn’t know what to do. They were all trying to keep it together, calm everyone down. Some of the High Druids started ritualizing to try and bring the light back and reawaken the spirits, but it was no use, they were dead. A shame really, it was such a beautiful site, not like you have here where it’s all flat, and boggy, ugly trees everywhere, it’s just boring really. Sure the hilltop is nice. But, Taraskald had majestic mountains and lush bodies of water falling over hills, animals leaping and flying about the land, you really felt the spirit alive.”

Wulf hesitates to respond. Knows he shouldn’t poke, but does so anyway.

“…it was probably just clouds.”

“What’s that?” Derwen says.

“Clouds, from the storm, the rain, it was probably just really cloudy when the light came up, that’s why it wasn’t bright but the spirit was still there, I think.”

“Oh you think so, well you weren’t there now were you. Because we were, and it wasn’t just clouds as you say. Okay, we all know falling water is an attack by Deywos, the Sky Father, on Anaraga the Land Mother, and if the light can’t shine, the spirit dies. And now that land is cursed and all those Druids were forced to die along with the spirit. It was a tragedy not clouds!”

Derwen turns away, overwhelmed by emotions of this memory. Rokena puts a hand on the back of her husband.

Ana tightly grips her husbands arm, the spousal signal to “drop it”. She re-engages to keep the peace.

“Wow that does sound horrible…so you two travel quite a bit, do you have a land you go back to, someplace you call home?”

“Certainly we do, up near Abernanthe, but it’s been ages since we’ve been back. What happened was this, many Solstices ago, Derwen had just delivered the remains of Wendag, our fourth born, for a rebirth, and he comes back and I see the water in his eyes. And he looks at me and says ‘Rokena, I want to see a Solstice at every major sacred Hill…Wendag would have wanted it’…and what could I say, other than of course, I mean we owe everything to the spirits and it can only please them to spread our devotion. We packed up and we’ve been on the road ever since.”

“The way I see it, we don’t know how many lives we are getting, maybe 3? Maybe 14? 37? Certainly more than one, so maybe this one is best served in complete devotion and gratitude to the spirits that have given us everything.” Derwen says.

“What if it’s just the one, though?” Wulf responds. “Then you’d spend your one and only life in service of some invisible spirit?

“Well I hardly call them invisible? Is a bird invisible? Or the rocks? The trees? Certainly the sky isn’t invisible.”Derwen jumps up and down. “Thats pretty real to me, the dirt is real and if it’s real then it must be alive with the spirit. And if that part is true that’s all I need. These spirits give us life we must bow to them in service, and they will provide for us in this life, and reward us in the next. This is simple stuff, here Wulf.”

Wulf has swallowed a lot so far but he is reaching his limit. His agitation is broken by a Lower Druid coming by to pick up remains.

“Gwen Awel! travelers, have you dead your wish to offer to Brigadgenedig” asks the Lower Druid.

“Gwen Awel! Druid, is it true we cannot take these up ourselves and we must turn them over to you?” Rokena asks.

“Yes, we will take your dead and make sure they are touched by the rising light and born anew. “

“We only ask because we have been to a lot of Solstices all over and we have always been the one to deposit the bones of our children. We don’t understand why we can’t do that here.” Rokena asks with an increased tone of insistence.

“It is our policy, and we feel it’s better for all of you to experience the Solstice this way.”

“Well is there a High Druid I can speak with because this isn’t right. The great spirits put these babies inside of me “she motions down to the sacks at her feet. “ I carried them for more moons than I can count. They were delivered from inside of me. Then when they were called back to the spirits, we carried them in these sacks for even more moons, just to bring them here for your Brigadgenedig.”

“Don’t forget my mother too, she’s in one of those.” Derwen says.

“I think we deserve to bring them up ourselves.”

“Again, this is our policy if you would like your loved ones kissed by the reanimating light of the new morning, then I must take them up.”

“I want to speak to your High Druid.” Rokena demands.

“Of course, let me see if someone is available.”

The Lower Druid moves on, with little intention of returning with a High Druid.

Derwen takes his wife in his arms. The confrontation with the Lower Druid has done her in, and she is a mess of tears.

Wulf tries to keep his attention towards the skyline, hoping he can avoid any further interaction with these two.

“Wulf, how does the food work here? Is there signal with your hands or something? Do they just bring you food or are their options? I am starving.” Derwen asks.

“Food? No, not sure how that would work.”

“It’s really quite simple, I mean, they have them everywhere else. Lower Druids walk around and they have small bags of nuts and fruits and whatnot for trade. At Avongarth they even had meat on a stick. But come on Brigadgen Mawn get with the times, maybe if they weren’t so busy spoiling a parent’s right to offer their child’s bones to Hill Goddess they could be giving out food. I tell you, we won’t be recommending this place to anyone.”

“Why don’t you just go then, you don’t have to be here, you don’t like it here, leave, we don’t appreciate you speaking of our home this way.”

“As soon as we do what we came here to do, which is lay the bones of our loved ones in the center of that hill, and be rejuvenated in the bathing light of Sulinodena, the blessed Sun of the new morning and delivered by the hands of Brigadgenedig then we will gladly leave this stinking bog. But we need to be here when the light rises and offer our love and service, so they know to reward us.”

Wulf inhales deeply and spins around to meet Derwen face to face.

“I’ve been coming to hill my whole life. This is my twentieth Solstice. Sometimes the light came and I was stunned by its beauty. Other times, it was dark, cold, and cloudy, like you described at Taraskald. Only there was no panic, no death, we accepted it and continued with our lives. And light or no light, the warmth came and flowers bloomed just as always. You know what I learned, there is no spirit up there or down here or in rocks or tress or birds controlling everything. We can come here or not come here. Have a ritual or not, supply an offering of everything or nothing. But the light is going to rise each morning. We don’t matter. And the world will get warm, then hot, then cold again, and we will be right back here. We have no control over it just like it has no control over us. There is some other force at work here, a force I don’t understand but it’s not spirits and sacred places. It’s just natural.”

Derwen angrily laughs as he launches into his response.

“Are you joking ? I have never met anyone so lost in all my life. So what the light just goes up and down, the birds fly, the fish swim, the sheep fuck, and the wind blows, all because it just wants to? Do they put stupid in the water here? Life moves because of the spirits within them. And those spirits are guided by higher spirits that feed on the celebration we offer them. You are not deserving of the light or its power. You deserve nothing but darkness!”

“All, your spirits and light couldn’t help to keep your children alive, could they?”

Even a pious devotee like Derwen has a breaking point, and this was it. He lunges at Wulf, who aptly catches him. Derwen fights through Wulfs arms, swatting and scratching and slapping as best he can. His determination beats Wulfs strength and blows connect to his face. The scuffle becomes more fierce and they grapple to the ground.

“Wulf get off of him, please!.” Ana pleads with her husband to get up.

The two boys refuse to listen and continue their fight. A gasp of awe spreads through the congregation as the sky turns blue to purple to orange; the light creeps over the horizon.

“Derwen! The light! It’s coming! Our babies!” Rokena in a panic piles the sacks of bones in her arms and goes running up the hill towards the monument.

The ceremony begins, and the boys continue their scuffle. Two Lower Druids and a High Druid descend on the brawl and pull them apart.

“For desecrating the sanctity of the Solstice, you are hereby banned from Brigadgen Mawn. Please collect your belongings, go and never return. May the light rise always with you. Just not here.” The Higher Druid proclaims.

Wulf and Derwen are escorted by the two Lower Druids from the sacred hill.

Derwen resists and invokes the power of Sulinodena.

Ana gathers their life and follows her husband out.

******

The light spreads over the land. The masses praise in adoration of the new morning. The prophesy fulfilled. The natural contract abided. The sun has risen signaling a turn in seasons. And its worshipers, its believers, and its admirers are witness to its awesome power. Magic or not, a sunrise is a time to stop and appreciate the new day ahead.