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nocturnalsyrin · 2 days

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This was done by a friend of mine and I just wanted to join in and share my oc’s even though they have nothing to do with the Pokemon verse ^^

A/N: The story and concept of “Eternity of Dust and Stars” is owned and written by NocturnalSyRin. Anyone besides the owner does not have permission to steal, borrow, change, edit or copy anything that has been written by the creator

📒: If they keep a journal, what is the saddest thing they've ever written in it?

Raewyn (Rae): Being a scholar she doesn't really keep a diary for security reasons as she was never allowed to openly document her thoughts in fear of being found out by the Overseer's Warden and Royal Guards. They comb through her chambers regularly in search of items they deem prohibited by their countless laws that get added to daily. However, upon Rae's immediate termination of her status upon freeing the Goddess of Stars - Aetheria from her prison within the Runic dungeon and fleeing of her kingdom entirely, Rae managed to salvage a few papers detailing the horrific practices and study that was performed that has been kept hidden from the public eye. The saddest thing that stands out amongst the crowd of Raewyn's countless sketches, articles and documents that she has preserved over her endless life is the cruel experimentations upon the “Ungifted” that have been recorded for over five centuries. All of which give vivid descriptions about how the Ungifted were treated, kept in small cages barely big enough to fit a large dog, fed scrapes of food and smaller portions of water that would hardly sustain a rat, and left to sit in their own filth and rot as they were quite literally harvested alive, torn apart limb by limb, striping them of whatever little magic that still flowed through their blood until there was nothing viable left to take from their “useless husks” as the cruel scientists behind these heartless actions would define them as. And all of this was done under the name of the Overseer's ruling Queen, Aion - the end goal being a hope for being able to fully harness this useless energy and somehow transfer it to those she deemed fit enough to rule by her side and aid her in her conquest of world domination. As of today none of their experimentations have succeeded thus far and many children and civilians have silently lost their lives under the cruel reign of the Endless Queen… That is until they crossed paths with the Throne of Tears.

Aetheria: Being a celestial draconic beast of immortality and granted the powers of a God meant to empower and aid their subject in a time of need, Aetheria has seen many horrible things while seated upon the Throne of Stars. Things she wishes she could forget but will remain implanted into her brain like a pesty itch she cannot get rid of. And with these things that she has seen she has documented it all within her domain of stars. Displaying all of the world's treason, sins and greeds, victories, and accomplishments out in the open for all to bear witness to as soon as the sun dips over the horizon and the sky blankets itself in a glorious inky darkness speckled with a vast array of shimmering lights. All it takes is for one curious and brilliant minded spectator to take one simple glance at the carefully cultivated arrangement of stars to understand the Goddesses griefs she has laid out for all to see. All they have to do is look.

🩸: Has your OC ever been severely wounded?

Raewyn: Yes, she has canonly died a number of times - both self inflicted or otherwise - and her self-sacrificing behaviors have gotten her into quite a number of sticky situations. She thinks just because she is a Phoenix gifted with the powers of resurrection that her deaths are as meaningless as they are endless, but little does she know - everything, no matter how insignificant they may seem at the time, has a limit.

Aetheria: YES! For nearly four centuries after she helped defeat the plague created by the Throne of Tears by giving life to the Overseer's (Phoenix’s), Aetheria's well meaning actions would quickly come back around to bite her in the butt and she would soon find herself being captured, tortured, studied and imprisoned by her own creations for an unseeable future. Its honestly a miracle that after all that time kept locked in pitch blackness with her own self being the sole company she has ever known - minus the few passing scientists who ceaselessly poked and prodded at her trying to draw more of her magic out for harvest - that the dragon is still very much sane. All of it would come to an end however when a little scholar's curiosity makes them wander far too into the Runic dungeons and past the sealed off barrier she's been enslaved in and free them.

😢: Has one of their Pokemon ever died, and how?

Raewyn & Aetheria: Pokémon don't exist in their world here unfortunately, but they have lost many friends and lovers, as is the curse of immortality.

🧬: Tell me about your OCs' family problems, if they have any.

Raewyn: Living in a society that is solely focused on being the best you can ever be and then being ever greater than that, Raewyn has had plenty of conflicts with her family both when in service of the crown as a scholar and when she was a refugee on the run after betraying said “crown”. She never really understood why it was customary to trample the weak and worship the strong, something that is common practice for those who have been hand picked to serve the crown or have naturally been born into royalty.

Aetheria: Aetheria on the other hand has had minimal family problems. This isn’t due to the fact that she was hand chosen by the Entity of Dust to serve as its Goddess of Stars but just because of different familial and societal differences. The celestial dragons are far more relaxed and empathetic toward their own and the other species around them, having a deeper and more intimate connection with life and all of the world's creations; they - as a species - are rather peaceful by nature except when threatened.

✂️: Have they ever had an argument that shattered their relationship with someone close?

Raewyn: Most of the time the little Phoenix’s arguments are with the celestial dragon Aetheria. They often buttheads as Rae has a more optimistic and gentle view of the world while Aetheria has grown jaded and cold over her centuries of enslavement and torture. Rae is a pacifist and wants to save the world and right wrongs and always tries to see the good in people no matter how far gone they may be while Aetheria has only one set goal in mind - kill Genesis.

Aetheria: The most prominent argument Aetheria has ever had that completely shattered a relationship was with her own lover, Nakimera who now goes by the name Genesis. The argument was spurred on by Nakimera’s desire to achieve Godhood like her lover after she discovered the remains of the fallen and what was assumed to be the perished Entity of Tears. Nakimera wanted to try and revive the Entity in hopes that it would grant her the status of a God after she has been denied of such title again and again during the ceremonial selection ritual that is conducted every time a God falls into ruin, so both her and Aetheria could rule side by side for as long as they lived. This was something Aetheria was fully against as the Entity of Tears brings nothing but calamity and destruction in its wake. In an act of desperation and fueled by the maddening whispers of the Entity that spoke to Nakimera without Aetheria’ knowledge, promising her fame and all her heart desired - to finally be a God amongst men. Naki fled into the night in search of the Entity of Tears temple and attempted the ritual meant to revive it - only for the ceremony to backfire horribly. As soon as the Entity was awoken it immediately set its previous plans - that being the full eradication of the world and everything on it - back into motion. Quickly it set its sights on the knocked out and dying figure of Nakimera who lay bleeding out on his sacrificial chambers floors and it forced its way into her vessel like a moth drawn into a flame, taking over her and eradicating any and all traces of the former owner of the body in a heartbeat. And thus Genesis was reborn anew and with it the horrors that it would soon unleash back on to the world.

🫣: Tell me about a time when your OC has been truly terrified/horrified by something.

Raewyn: When she accidentally witnessed firsthand what happened to all the “Ungifted” children that got taken away from their parents once they failed to prove to the crown that they were not in fact “useless”. She was never meant to see that but she did and now she is on the run with a bounty on her head.

Aetheria: When Aetheria saw her lover Nakimera turned into the reborn Entity of Tears during the war with the Throne of Tears and she knew that she would ultimately have to kill her. She never did and that is something she will come to regret at a later date.

⚔️: Have they ever been in a fight against someone really dangerous?

Raewyn: Being a wanted woman on the run by multiple nations, the dangerous situations Rae seems to always find herself in are endless. The poor little birdy just can’t seem to catch a break.

Aetheria: The worst fight Aetheria has ever been in is when she sealed away her lover and the Entity of Tears for the second time. At the time during this fight no one really knew how to kill an Entity at all - they only knew how to “trap” it. For 6 years Aetheria continuously fought off all of the Thrones armies and forces while simultaneously devising a plan that would hopefully bring the Entity of Tears plans to a halt. What was this plan? It was simple really, lure the Entity back to its temple and tear it apart limb from limb until it could no longer regenerate itself. You see, for as all powerful the Entity’s of the world may be they are surprisingly helpless when in the general area around their domain and although they may be defeated in their domain they are far from “killed” as that requires and whole other set of steps that needs to be taken in order to achieve that outcome. What those steps may be - only the Entity’s know that. And so Aetheria and her army of Overseer’s (the Phoenix’s she created with her own lifeforce) was forced to tear her lover apart piece by piece, engaging in battle that seemingly had no end, spreading their blood, entralls, limbs and everything else over a span of about 3 football fields until nothing but a shambling corpse remained. Prideful, vain and blinded by an unquenchable fury was the Entity of Tears downfall and it only realized its mistake when it was far too late for it to be able to make a run for it once it noticed it was not able to finish the fight it started. Terrified the Entity had one last trick up its sleeve, in a final ditch effort to preserve what little of its life remained the Entity gathered up the last of its strength and sealed itself away within an unbreakable crystalized capsule that resembled a moth’s cocoon. At the same time it forcefully ejected the source of its powers - the Weeping Eyes - out into the world and scattered them into various unknown places where they buried themselves within the soil and grew dormant near the earth core to await the next inevitable revival of their master.

⏳: Has your OC ever been "too late" to do/say something, and it had serious consequences?

Raewyn: The first time Rae was too late was when she realized that her kingdom wasn’t so docile and friendly as they try to make themselves seem. They managed to take over nearly half of the world’s population with the help of the Throne of Tears aid until their tyrannical reign was brought to a sudden stop with Aetheria, Raewyn and the rebellion's aid. The next time was the third revival of the Entity of Tears.

Aetheria: She was too late to tell her lover Nakimera that she never had to join her in Godhood for her to always love and cherish her and that just being a normal, happy, healthy and nerdy doctor was enough for her. It would have always been enough for her. Unfortunately the Entity of Tears got to Naki first way before Aetheria ever had the chance to intervene and try to save her lover from her untimely fate.

🛡️: Have they ever failed to protect someone they love, and what happened?

Raewyn: Despite Rae’s difference with her family she has always loved them from the bottom of her heart. The Entity of Tears took advantage of this and tried to use them as leverage against Rae to try and gain access to the Entity of Dust domain so that it could destroy that which it despised above all else once and for all but it ended up killing them as soon as her family wasn’t useful at all to it anymore.

Aetheria: Nakimera will always be one of Aetheria’s biggest regrets. I am not going to spoil her other regret because that’s for me to know only~

🥊: Has your OC ever been betrayed, and how did it affect them?

Raewyn: Yes. Many, many, many times. It’s not to be unexpected considering how she’s on the run and is working with the rebellion. Being constantly on the run like this while also dealing with the third revival of the Tears Entity has put a massive strain on Rae’s mental state and also challenged her morals more times than she’d like to admit. She always smiles despite how worn down and defeated she may feel.

Aetheria: Only by Nakimera.

🧪: What is the most sick they have ever been?

Raewyn: When she was in her “Flightless” arc. For reasons unknown to everyone but Aetheria, Rae was a Phoenix born with tattered and useless wings. Had she not had an impressive and downright natural talent for magics that caught the crowns eye at such a young age, Rae would have met the same fate as so many other “Ungifted” children that came before her. This wouldn’t keep her from scrutiny however and she would have to always prove herself worthy of being in the crowns court. Rae would also be known as the “Flightless Phoenix” or “The Broken One”.

Aetheria: Aetheria can’t really get sick unless there’s some all powerful supernatural cause at play that quite literally forces her to be sick.

💣: Has your OC ever hurt someone precious to them by losing their temper?

Raewyn: Despite the claims that Phoenix’s are quick to temper and even harder to calm down, Rae goes against all stereotypes of her species. She’s naturally level headed and nice to all that approach her, finding comfort in the more welcoming and empathetic species of the world and tending to hang around those more than the others. But Rae has hurt someone by losing her temper when she was a kid and didn’t have full control over her powers. She was exhausted and overworked trying to become one of the top scholars on the crown which caused a flareup in her emotions and she nearly burned down the entire school building in a fit of rage and she scorched her professors back and nearly took off his wings with how hot her fire blazed that day.

Aetheria: She lost her temper on Nakimera and her impatience to be a God a lot of times and this unfortunately was what created a wedge in their relationship and drove Naki to the brink and confused by the miscommunication they endured in their fights as she felt like she had to become a God for Aetheria to love her again.

⛓️: When was a time that your OC felt truly, inescapably, hopelessly trapped?

Raewyn & Aetheria: This is hella spoilery and I’m not going to answer this one~ Sorry~

#oc #oc stuff #my ocs #original story #original character #story #my story #oc rp #rp #roleplay #loong #phoenix #dragons #mythology #folklore #magic #tragedy

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inscryptions · 4 months

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every year poses the same conundrum: what to gift the feeble scholar for his birthday? one would argue that it's an easy feat, considering kaveh has known the man longer than most. what they are unaware of, however, is the balancing-act that comes with this relationship of theirs. a gift should be thoughtful, yet not over the top. creative, yet still practical. an extravagant gesture would hardly do (though would alhaitham truly understand the subtle nuances of sentimental gestures?)

the sound of opening doors has the architect scrambling to get into position. hurriedly, he pins a sheet over the study's back wall and places a simple cake on the scribe's desk.

now, kaveh stands in front of it and waits.

"it only took you forever to get back," kaveh huffs, stepping back to reveal the dessert. "i was starting to worry the cake would go stale." he sighs. with nothing else to add, kaveh makes his way behind the desk. a tug of the sheet reveals a new set of bookshelves entirely — all carved from a rich wood. their sturdy frames bear intricate patterns of swirling vines and delicate filigree, each detail meticulously etched by skilled hands. his roommate's well-loved collection of books sit organized in neat rows, flanked by new additions kaveh has thought to add.

on the left side of the bookcase sits a lone, mounted glass shelf. kaveh clears his throat. "that's for your grandmother's book. i thought you might want a designated spot for it considering how important it is to you. anyway...happy birthday, alhaitham. no matter how you choose to spend it, i hope it brings you some joy."

The distinct feeling that Kaveh is doing something stupid prickles at the back of my neck, and I sigh as I do my best to brush it off. If all goes well, hopefully I won't have too much of a mess to drag him out of when I get back. Honestly, I just want to go home, have a nice bath, and curl up with a new book. It's been a game today of attempting to get my work done while also avoiding people with questions that don't actually need my help (is it seriously so hard to look up the latest research in the House of Daena? You'd think these researchers were practically bottle-fed by the Akasha), and as entertaining as it can be to dodge the rest of the Akademiya, after a while it gets exhausting. Today more than most, I do not want to be bothered beyond what is absolutely necessary, and though I am usually quite adept at being anywhere but where people want me, for some reason the fact that it's my birthday must have leaked, because I can't imagine why else people would be trying to find me now of all times (it's not a national holiday or festival, and there are hardly any meetings that need me, I checked and triple-checked). It's all bordering on overwhelming, so I really, really hope Kaveh hasn't gotten himself in too bad of a jam.

(He is smart, but still. This is Kaveh we're talking about.)

Once I'm off, I take a long and much-needed walk around the gardens, the sweet scents of the flowers and the calm quiet soothing my senses and bolstering me for the trip down into the city. Unfortunately, it's almost past dinnertime by the time I make my way down into Sumeru proper, and I debate whether it's worth it to go eat at Lambad's or just head straight home. My hunger wins out alongside my rationale and previous experienceーcan't think on an empty stomach. Which means it's long past dusk when I finally make it back home, moonlight spotlighting my door. The prickle returns, and I head in with a tired sense of unease. Whatever you've done this time, Kaveh, it better be able to wait until tomorrowー

Except the man is standing in front of my desk when I enter the study, and a giant sheet covers the back wall of the room. That can't be good. The blond steps back to reveal... a cake? And then takes down the sheet, and there are bookshelves, glorious and beautiful and filled with my things and so well-crafted, oh the details! There's even a place of honor for Grandmother's book? It's... it's all a bit unexpected and yet not... and so utterly Kaveh, to throw his whole heart into a single piece, especially if it's bound to get plenty of use like this one will. Were I a more emotional man, I might have teared up at the sight. As it is, I can't help taking a crack at him (he kind of deserves it for the anxiety he caused me today). "Don't tell me you spent all day working on this just for me. But... thank you. This is... it's good. You picked a good spot for it. As expected of the Light of Kshahrewar." I make to head towards my room, then turn back. "Go ahead and cut that cake, I'll join you in a moment. Seems that New Year's wine you gave me might go well with it."

#🌿 altruistic architect (kaveh).#🌿 natal anniversary (birthday).#aesthetecomplex #//me when gift: OMGOMGOMG TYSM?!?!?!? (vs) hthm when gift: sure thanks #//he is trying to be logical but OMG KAVEH YOU'RE SPOILING HIM STAWP (affectionate)

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ideas-on-paper · 7 months

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Celtic seasonal festivals - Part 4: Samhain

Part 1 ; Part 2 ; Part 3

[The following article contains references to human and child sacrifice; reader discretion is advised]

Hello, my dear readers! With today being the 1st of November, it's once again time for the next - and last - issue of our series about Celtic seasonal festivals. In this article, we will take a look at the origins and customs of Samhain, the most well-known and most influential of the Celtic seasonal festivals that the modern traditions of Halloween originated from.

As I mentioned in the first issue of this series, I already did an analysis on Samhain and how it morphed into Halloween previously, back when I was still active on Twitter. However, after finally making the decision to leave Twitter for good in the light of all recent developments, I thought it would be a shame if the content of these posts was lost to the public forever. Also, I was thinking about doing a revised version of my previous Samhain thread anyway, as I've been able to significantly expand my knowledge about Celtic culture and religion ever since starting this series, and I would like to put this new, broader perspective to use. There's no need to worry about anything being lost - I wrote this article based on my old scripts which I still have available, but rearranged and expanded it so it fits in with the basic structure of the other issues. So please, take your time to enjoy "From Samhain to Halloween - Enhanced Edition"! :-)

General/Etymology

Samhain, pronounced as SAH-wen (also known as Sauin in Manx Gaelic), is one of the Celtic threshold/"fire" festivals held on the night of October 31st to November 1st. It took place when the harvest was done and nature was dying, heralding the beginning of winter, the "dark season" of the year. Furthermore, while it was believed that the gateways to the Otherworld stood open during all threshold festivals, the veil separating the dwelling of supernatural beings from the world of men was supposed to be especially thin at Samhain, allowing spirits, fairies, and the ghosts of the deceased to cross over into the world of mortals.

It is said that out of the four Celtic seasonal festivals, Samhain was the most important one, with some scholars arguing that it was akin to the Celtic New Year. While this thesis can't be decisively proven, it does hold some relevance given that there are accounts of the Celts not counting their time by days, but by nights - since Samhain was considered the advent of the "dark half" of the year (=night), it might be possible that it indeed marked the beginning of the year cycle. Even the Calendar of Coligny, one of the few documents preserved from antiquity which was written by the Celts themselves, starts out with the month Samonios, which may be related to Samhain.

The lunisolar Coligny Calendar (depicted above) stands as proof of the Celts' ample knowledge of astronomy, enabling them to precisely define the dates of the festivals marking the change of seasons; despite being fragmented, it still remains the most important piece of evidence in reconstructing the Celtic year (Source)

Same as the other seasonal festivals, it's quite certain that Samhain has its origin as an agricultural festival: The date of November 1st exactly coincides with the time when herdsmen practicing transhumance (the movement of cattle herds in accordance with the year cycle) would bring their livestock down from the upland summer pastures into the valleys. This highlights the exceptional importance of livestock in Celtic agriculture, which is supported by both historical and mythological evidence (judging by the kitchen scraps from the Celtic oppidum Manching in Bavaria, 99.8% of the consumed meat stemmed from domestic animals; additionally, cows, bulls, and pigs feature prominently in many Celtic myths). Around the time of Samhain, farmers also had to decide which animals to slaughter, as not all of them could be fed through the winter. From this, the custom of holding a great feast on the butchered animals' flesh most likely developed, as a last opportunity for community before the harsh days of winter. Furthermore, the festivities probably served the purpose of people thanking the gods for bringing their cattle herds through the past year, as well as praying for their survival in the coming one.

The etymology of the term Samhain itself has been subject of much debate - some suggest that Samain/Samuin, the Old and Middle Irish term for the festival, might be composed of semo/sam ("summer") and fuin ("end"), but this never has been linguistically proven. Instead, a derivation from the Proto-Celtic samoni, meaning "assembly", seems to be a likely alternative, referring both to the gathering of people as well as their reunion with their ancestors - an assembly of the living and the dead, so to speak.

Ancient Customs and Rites

References to Samhain and its customs can be found in even the earliest Irish literature, the date being a popular setting for many legends and myths. In some tales, one can even find what might be a remnant of ancient sacrificial rites: For example, in the Lebor Gabála Érenn (known as "The Book of Invasions" in English), it's said the Nemedians had to give up two-thirds of their corn, milk, and their children to the demonic Formorians each Samhain (the latter in particular has been interpreted as an allusion to child sacrifice). In this context, the Formorians themselves - which are usually identified as the chaotic, destructive powers of nature - might act as substitutes for ancient gods. It's highly likely that the deities these sacrifices were dedicated to were chthonic in nature, as chthonic gods were not only associated with death and the underworld, but also believed to have control over growth and fertility. With the harvesting period having to an end, the Ancient Celts probably felt obligated to thank the gods of the earth for their bounty, offering them the "best fruits" of the year to invoke their blessing in the next one.

We don't know exactly which gods these sacrifices were meant for, but we do have some possible candidates: In his De bello Gallico, Julius Caesar reports that the Gauls worship a "night god" as their progenitor, comparing his role to the Roman Dis Pater, the lord of the underworld. Some scholars have chosen to interpret this god as Cernunnos, the Celtic god bearing deer antlers on his head and whose name means "the Horned One" (derived from karnon, Gaulish for "horn"/"antler"). Due to frequently being depicted as a "Lord of Animals" surrounded by stags, dogs, bulls, and a horned serpent, he is assumed to be a deity of nature and wilderness. On the other hand, his attributes also include a bag of coins (sometimes grain) and a cornucopia, as well as a torque in one hand, a very popular accessory in Celtic culture which was usually worn around the neck and symbolized power. This suggests that Cernunnos was also responsible for agriculture, being the master over every person's wealth in the form of crop yields. An association of chthonic deities with the growing of crops was very common in ancient times, so there is indeed a possibility that the "night god" mentioned by Caesar and Cernunnos are one and the same entity.

This depiction on the Gundestrup cauldron, a marvelous piece of silver workmanship presumably of Celtic and Thracian origin, shows Cernunnos surrounded by animals such as a stag, a bull, a wolf, and a dog, as well as leaves and buds; the antlered god is sitting cross-legged in the middle of the scene, holding a horned snake in his left hand and a torque in the right, in addition to the one he wears around his neck (Source)

Aside from this, there is also a Celtic god named Sucellus who appears to have possessed similar properties. A very popular deity in Gallo-Roman culture, he is usually portrayed as a bearded, middle-aged man with a wolf-skin as a cape, holding a long-handled hammer or a mallet in one hand (sometimes interpreted as a beer barrel on a pole), and an olla, a type of ancient ceramic pot used for cooking, in the other (it's interesting to note that in Ancient Rome, ollae were also used as funerary urns and for the purpose of animal sacrifices). Occasionally, he is depicted alongside the goddess Nantosuelta, who is believed to be his consort and a deity of fertility, the domestic sphere as well as the dead, her attributes including a miniature house on a pole (variously interpreted as a dovecote/temple model) and ravens. There is a Latin inscription which directly links Sucellus to Silvanus, the Roman god who acted as the lord over woods and plantations, as well as the protector of cattle herds and field boundaries. Some scholars suggested that his role as the guardian of borders might have been a little more ambiguous, identifying him as a chthonic deity who was also tasked with maintaining the border between the underworld and the world of the living. If this is true, Sucellus simply might have been a local variant of Cernunnos, or perhaps an epithet or aspect of one and the same deity. Either way, with our knowledge of ancient Celtic religion being so fragmented, it's difficult to reconstruct.

Still, it appears as though remnants of this god of death and fertility have survived in other Celtic countries: From Irish mythology, we know of Dagda, a major god said to possess power over life and death, the weather, crops, as well as the seasons. Also called "The Dagda", he is usually described as a bearded, large man wielding a magic staff (in some versions a club/mace) with two ends, one of which bestows life while the other kills everything it touches. Furthermore, he possesses a magic cauldron which never runs empty is able to sate every person, in addition to an enchanted harp which can control emotions and bring about the change of seasons. His wife is said to be Morrígan, the fierce goddess of fate, death, and war who turns into a raven on the battlefield. Several Irish tribes traced back their ancestry to Dagda, which is a characteristic that also applies to Donn, who is believed to originally have been an aspect of Dagda. Assumed to be a god of the dead, Donn's last request to his descendants was that they should come to his abode after they die, and to the Irish, "to go to the House of Donn" was synonymous with dying. Donn's dwelling was known as Tech Duinn (translating to "house of Donn"), said to be the place where the souls of the death gather and commonly identified with Bull Rock, a small island off the coast of the Beara Peninsula in the far southwest of Ireland. This would align with the traditional Irish belief that the souls of the death departed westwards over the sea with the setting sun, and the unique shape of Bull Rock resembling a dolmen or a passage tomb might have contributed to people thinking of it as a gateway to the Otherworld, the destination of the final journey of the deceased before they were reincarnated.

However, there is yet another Irish god who was specifically associated with rituals at Samhain: Crom Cruach. The etymology of the name has been debated, with Crom (Irish cromm) usually being translated as "bent/crooked", and Cruach (Irish crúach) meaning "heap", "mound", or "stack", denoting a pile of things like crops, gathered goods, booty, etc., but also the bodies of slaughtered warriors (possibly referring to a mound of sacrificial offerings). According to the Book of Leinster from the 12th century, the god's golden idol stood on the plain Magh Slécht (translated as "plain of prostrations" or "plain of the monument"), surrounded by a circle of twelve smaller bronze figures. The latter might hint at his function as solar deity, which would make him similar to Aed, the Irish god of the underworld who is also suspected to have been a sun god (although it may seem confusing why a chthonic deity should have a connection to the sun, it should be kept in mind that the sun in this context is tantamount to the wheel of the year, and thus, the natural cycle). In times past, the people of Ireland supposedly sacrificed a third of their firstborn children to Crom Cruach in exchange for a bountiful harvest in the next year, a ritual which always took place at Samhain. The Irish High King Tigernmas himself was known to kill a firstborn child in honor of Crom Cruach every Samhain eve, by smashing the child's head against the stone idol. However, one Samhain night, Tigernmas found his own demise on Magh Slécht alongside three fourths of the men of Ireland, all of them dying mysteriously while worshiping Crom Cruach. Apparently, word of these horrific rites even reached Ancient Greece, with Greek authors identifying Crom Cruach as the child-eating titan Cronus, and Ireland as the far-away island close to Britain where Zeus had banished him to. It was said by Plutarch that Cronus is the "sovereign lord of these islands (...) [who] sleeps within a deep cave resting on a rock which looks like gold." He also noted that "there are many deities about [Cronus] as satellites and attendants." Aside from the obvious resemblances to Crom Cruach's idol, a commonality between Crom and Cronus is that both of them are associated with the harvest - however, it can't be decisively said if one influenced the other, and whether Crom Cruach was a native god or Greek adaptation.

One might wonder why worshiping nature deities required such gruesome rituals, and why there seems to be such an inseparable connection between fertility and death in Celtic culture. In the end, we have to remember that the Celts lived in a time when survival was largely dependent on nature's whims, and a single period of foul weather could destroy an entire harvest. Cultivating a harsh region like Central Europe undoubtedly taught the Celts that nature is just as brutal as it is bountiful, and that reaping yields from the earth always came with a price to pay - thus, appeasing nature deities and winning their favor was most likely seen as particularly important. In addition, we shouldn't forget that the Celtic people probably viewed death quite differently than we do: It seems that to them, death was merely a transition from one existence to another, and much like nature and the year with its twelve months, life was seen as a continuous, never-ending cycle. The Celtic belief in reincarnation has been cited by ancient authors such as Caesar, but transformation and rebirth as animals or other objects is also documented in various myths from Celtic countries, such as the Irish tale Tochmarc Étaíne. And just like every new life begins in the darkness of the womb, Samhain may have been viewed as the time of winter and the advent of darkness, when the seeds from which new life would sprout were already lying in the ground.

Unfortunately, it's difficult to piece together the exact rituals and procedure of the ancient festival, due to all sources referring to it having been written long after antiquity by Christian monks. However, it's evident remnants of these ancient customs lasted until medieval times: In several texts, there are accounts of gatherings during the time of Samhain which would last multiple days, where nobles and ollams (masters of a specific trade who held influential positions, particularly bards and poets) would come together in peace. For example, in the Irish tale Serglige Con Culainn, the feast the clan of the Ulaid held at Samhain is said to have lasted a week, beginning three days before Samhain and ending three days afterwards. Another story known Echtra Cormaic mentions the so-called "Feast of Tara" hosted every seven years by the Irish High King, during which the lords of Ireland would meet, pass new laws, and make political decisions. All nobles were obliged to adhere to the laws enacted during this period - not doing so would result in banishment. In addition, these gatherings also had a more jovial side, involving feasting, drinking, and contests. The main course of these feasts was most likely the meat of the cattle butchered on Samhain, part of which the guests would sacrifice to the gods while consuming the rest themselves. Aside from conveying their gratitude, this "shared meal" was also meant to win the gods' favor, ensuring that both the people and their livestock made it through the winter.

However, it appears Samhain may not have been a time of rejoicing for every ruler: According to legend, the two Irish kings Diarmait mac Cerbaill and Muirchertach mac Ercae both die a threefold death on Samhain by wounding, burning, and drowning. Interestingly, this description almost exactly mirrors the three kinds of sacrifices the Gallic gods Esus, Taranis, and Teutates allegedly required: Humans that were to be sacrificed to Esus would be hung from a tree and flogged to death, victims dedicated to Taranis would be burned, and sacrifices to Teutates were to be drowned in a tub of water. Presuming that these accounts are a remnant of ritual killings, they most likely took place when a king was deemed unworthy due to his reign being unfruitful, which was considered a sign of offense by the gods (it's been hypothesized that the inauguration of an Irish king involved a symbolic marriage to the goddess of the land, meaning that any bad harvest or other misfortunes would be directly blamed onto him). While there is no decisive proof to confirm this thesis, some bodies found in Irish bogs seem to belong to nobles who have been ritually killed in a similar manner, a few of them even around the time of Samhain.

In general, Samhain was seen as a time when all debts would have to be settled, and everyone who owed something to another person would make sure to repay them before this date. Also, there are accounts that Samhain marked the official end of the harvesting period, and any crops that had not been gathered until then would be left in the field. In fact, it was even considered dangerous to consume anything harvested after Samhain, be it crops or wild fruits, as it was believed that a spirit known as the Púca had claimed it as its own by spitting on it (or, according to some versions, urinating on it), thus making the yields inedible for humans.

Much like on Beltane, bonfire customs were an important part of Samhain. As a sign that the light half of the year was over, all people would extinguish the hearth fires of their homes and come to gather around large common fires. These bonfires would be ignited by Celtic druids on hilltops, such as the Hill of Tlachtga, today known as the "Hill of Ward". Traditionally, only certain types of wood like oak would be used for the bonfire (according to Pliny the Elder, oaks were sacred trees among ancient Celtic druids), and it was custom to light it by the means of friction, creating sparks and thus kindling a need-fire. The dousing of household fires and subsequent ignition of common fires might represent the dying of light and its rebirth, and one can surmise that the bonfires were meant to invoke the powers of growth that would bring back life to the world in the coming spring. In addition, the fires as well as their ashes and smoke were believed to possess cleansing properties, and there were a lot of rituals meant to ensure that people purified themselves of harmful influences during this time of transition. In some places, two bonfires would be erected side by side, and in a custom very similar to Beltane, people would run between them as a purification ritual, sometimes with their cattle in tow. Meanwhile, in the Scottish region of Moray, young boys would go out to collect firewood from every house in the community, and once the bonfire was lit, they would lie down as close to it as possible to let the smoke blow over them. When the flames died down, the boys would scatter the ashes, vying among themselves for who was allowed to scatter the most. Sometimes, people would even use the ashes to blacken their faces, which was meant to grant them protection from harmful magic. It was also custom to cast the bones of slaughtered cattle into the fire, which was probably meant as a sacrifice to the gods. Once the celebrations were over, everyone would take an ember of the sacred fire home with them, and walking sunwise around houses and fields while carrying burning torches of fir or turf was a common ritual of protection. Following this, every family would solemnly rekindle their own hearth with the sacred flame - yet another ritual symbolizing the end of the old and beginning of the new.

Since Samhain was a liminal time, bonfires were lit which were believed to have cleansing and renewing properties, facilitating a smooth transition into the new half of the year; the Hill of Tlachtga in the Irish County Meath supposedly was the site of a Samhain bonfire and great gathering (Source)

Reigniting the household's fire was not the only duty for every family, however: Since the souls of the dead returned from the Otherworld on Samhain, they would visit their kin's homes, seeking warmth and hospitality. As such, people were obliged to set an additional chair at their dinner table, preparing a special dish of porridge for the deceased. Sometimes, a bowl of fresh water would also be placed near the hearth to welcome them. Additionally, the windows would be left open or the doors unbolted, so the spirits of the dead could come in and partake of the meal. Thus, the whole family, living and dead, would be reunited and dine together - a custom which feels very reminiscent of the Mexican Día de los Muertos.

Alongside the spirits of the deceased, the Aos Sí - spirits and fairies from Irish folklore - were said to emerge from the gates of the Otherworld and roam the land at Samhain night. Judging by the offerings the Ancient Celts left in natural caves and near peculiar rock formations in Central Europe, it appears these places were believed to be portals leading to the Otherworld. In addition, it seems the same was true for the entrance of graves: Legend has it that the Cave of Cruachan, an ancient Irish burial mound belonging to the archaeological complex of Rathcroghan in the County Roscommon, was a gateway to the Otherworld from which hordes of monstrous beings would emerge at Samhain. There are accounts of a flock of red birds causing every plant to wither with their breath, a herd of pigs possessing similar powers of decay, and finally, the Morrígan herself, who would appear riding a chariot draw by a one-legged chestnut horse.

Although these descriptions sound terrifying, it should be mentioned that in ancient times, there might not have been such a clear distinction between good and evil spirits. Just like nature has its live-giving and destructive sides, spirits were believed to be able to bestow both luck and misfortune, and people would take care to appease them so as not to incite their ire. As such, many measures were taken to propitiate the Aos Sí, like placing offerings of food and drink outside for them, leaving a portion of the crops in the ground for them, and pouring libations into the sea. (Considering some scholars theorize that the Aos Sí are remnants of pagan deities, these customs may have originated from ancient sacrificial rites.)

Nevertheless, people were generally advised to stay home during Samhain night, as fairies were notorious for playing tricks and restless souls might be out to take vengeance on those who wronged them. Dusk and midnight in particular were very precarious times, and people would stay away from waterways and the west side of houses since they believed fairies frequented these routes. Whoever still dared to venture out into the darkness would take special care to protect themselves from any mischievous spirits by wearing their clothes inside-out, or carrying salt or a piece of iron with them. However, if one of your relatives or friends did happen to have been taken by fairies the previous year, there was a way to free them: If you came across some fairies on Samhain night - which usually announced themselves by playing music while wandering from one fairy hill to another - you would have to throw dust from under your feet at them, and they would be compelled to release any person they had taken captive a year and a day ago. When tossing any kind of water out of the window at Samhain, it was also advised you should shout "beware!" (seachain) or "water towards you!" (chughaibh an t-uisce) - after all, you never knew when any spirits might be potentially passing by your house, and unintentionally upsetting them would mean great misfortune.

In addition, people would take precautions to keep any malevolent spirits away from their home: A dead ember from the hearth fire or a piece of iron would be placed under every child's bed, to protect them from being abducted by the fairies. Alternatively, a mixture of salt and oatmeal would be daubed onto their foreheads. In southern Ireland, a so-called "parshell", a woven cross made from sticks and straw similar to the Brigid's cross, was a popular Samhain talisman. If hung over the inside of the doorway or in the barn, it was believed to ward off bad luck, illness, and sorcery, as well as grant protection to the livestock. Its effect would last until the next Samhain, when it had to be replaced by a new one.

Still, it might have been possible that you found a procession of eerie figures knocking at your door - not any fairies or spirits, but people dressed in costumes imitating them. It's believed that the tradition of mumming and guising originates from Celtic priests/druids impersonating the souls of the dead or the Aos Sí, going from house reciting verses and songs in exchange for food offerings, fuel for the bonfires, or other supplies for a Samhain feast. Since they acted as representatives of the spirits, everyone was obliged to make a small donation - otherwise, who knew what misfortunes might befall you. While the disguise was clearly meant to show their status as deputies of the Aos Sí, it also served the function of protecting the wearer from any spirits intending to cause them harm. Disguising oneself was one of the only safe ways to go out at Samhain night, as the spirits would be unable to recognize you - maybe even mistake you for one of their own - and thus leave you alone.

At Samhain, people took great care not to offend any spirits or Aos Sí, putting out offerings to appease them; people would prepare an extra seat and meal at the dinner table for their dead relatives, leaving the door or windows open to let them in, while porridge plates dedicated to the Aos Sí would be placed into a small pit in the ground (Source)

Interestingly, this was not the only almsgiving custom on Samhain: With lots of solemnity, every family would bake an oatmeal cake, which would then be offered to a complete stranger. It's assumed that this generosity was meant to ensure the donors themselves would have plenty of food in the future, being reminiscent of some Imbolc customs where the scraps of a feast were given to the poor.

Since the borders between the magical and the mortal world were thinned, Samhain was also believed to be a particularly good time for divination. As during all seasonal festivals, the weather was of particular interest to the diviners, with the wind at midnight hinting at the weather of the coming winter. If visible, the moon was also used as an indicator: If the skies were clear and the moon wasn't obscured by any clouds, it meant good weather, while a clouded moon meant rain, the amount depending on how many clouds there were. If there were clouds drifting quickly past the moon, it meant storms were coming in the following season. Some divination customs also involved the bonfires, such as a tradition practiced in the Scottish Ochtertyre, northern Wales, and Brittany where multiple rings of stones would be laid around the fire on top a layer of ash, each of them representing a person. Afterwards, everyone would pick up a torch and run around the circles merrily, and when any stones were found to be displaced in the following morning, it was said the respective person would die the coming year. (It has been suggested that this developed from a more ancient ritual of selecting a human sacrifice which would then be burned.)

During more private gatherings, seasonal fruits like apples and hazelnuts would often be used in divination rituals. These fruits held great significance in Celtic mythology: Apples symbolized fertility, immortality, and the Otherworld, while hazelnuts were associated with divine wisdom. Apple bobbing was a very popular game, where young unmarried people would try to catch an apple floating in the water with just their teeth - the first person to succeed would be the first to marry. Alternatively, a small wooden rod would be hung from the ceiling horizontally, an apple at one end and a candle at the other. The participants would take turns trying to catch the apple hanging at head height with their teeth, all the while the rod was spun around for increased difficulty. Aside from this, people would peel apples in one long strip, toss the peel over their shoulder, and allegedly, the peel's shape formed the first letter of their future spouse. There was also the custom of roasting two hazelnuts next to a fire, with one representing the person roasting them and the other their beloved. When the nuts roasted quietly near the fire, it was the sign of a good match, but the two nuts jumping away from the heat signaled the relationship was not meant to last.

In addition, people would prepare food with hidden items inside it: In pre-modern times, this was usually done with cakes or barmbrack (a type of yeast bread with raisins), but champ (a dish made of mashed potatoes, scallions, butter, and milk), colcannon (a dish of mashed potatoes with cabbage), or various kinds of pudding (such as cranachan or sowans) were also used for this purpose. The dishes were served to the guests at random, and the item they found was supposed to give a hint at their future - for example, a ring stood for marriage and a coin for wealth. Furthermore, baking a salty oatmeal cake, eating three bites of it, and then silently going to bed without drinking anything was said to result in a dream where one's future spouse would offer you a drink to quench your thirst. Even children took part in the divination games, chasing birds like ravens and divining things based on how many there were and which direction they were flying in.

St. Martin's Day, the banishment of Crom Cruach and the history of the jack o'lantern

Although the festival of Samhain may have been widespread in Celtic Europe once, the introduction of Christianity brought an end to this tradition. Nevertheless, it seems like some distant memory of it still remained in the people's minds: In the Stuttgarter Psalter, a richly illuminated medieval manuscript from the 9th century, there is a depiction of a horned figure that looks strikingly similar to Cernunnos, sitting cross-legged with a ram-headed serpent wound around his left arm. This portrayal of Cernunnos is part of the "Descent into the Limbo" scene, thus connecting him to the underworld (in Christian theology, the Limbo is the place where the souls of those go who did not disregard their belief in God, but still were unable to attain salvation by Christ during their lifetime). This might be an echo of Cernunnos' presumed status as a chthonic deity, or the association might be due to him being a horned god - either way, both attributes most likely would've contributed to him being considered a devil figure.

Despite this, some of the old pagan traditions still survived, albeit under a Christian guise: In many regions across Europe, people celebrate the Christian holiday of St. Martin's Day on November 11th, just a few days after the date of Samhain. One of the usual customs was to slaughter an animal, most commonly a goose, rooster, or sheep, and sprinkling its blood on the house's threshold for protection. The meat was then offered to St. Martin and eaten as part of a feast. This carries obvious resemblances to the custom of slaughtering livestock at the beginning of winter that Samhain originated from, and it has been suggested that St. Martin acts as a substitute for one or multiple gods.

In the Celtic regions of the British Isles, the custom of mumming and guising on the night of October 31st also persisted. However, it was no longer Celtic druids, but youths who would dress themselves up and go around the neighborhood, carrying turnip lanterns to light their way. In Scotland, young man would don masks, veils, paint their faces or blacken them with bonfire ashes, going house-to-house and demanding hospitality under the threat of committing mischief. If any house owner was so stingy as to not donate anything, the youths would have their fun playing pranks on them, much like the mischievous fairies of yore. Meanwhile, in Ireland, farmers would knock on the doors with sticks and ask for food on behalf of St. Colm Cille. In the south of the country, the procession also featured a Láir Bhán ("white mare"), a hobby horse which was impersonated by a man covered by a white sheet and carrying a decorated horse skull. Led by the Láir Bhán, a group of youths would go from farm to farm, announcing their arrival by blowing cow horns. Every farmer was expected to donate some food - if they did, the "Muck Olla" would bestow good fortune onto them, but if they didn't, they would suffer from bad luck.

The latter seems reminiscent of the Welsh folk belief that a white horse is a harbinger of death as well as the Irish legends about the horseman Donn, who is most likely inspired by the eponymous death god. In the County Limerick, a phantom horseman named Donn Fírenne was said to have his dwelling in the sacred hill of Cnoc Fírenne, riding a white horse whenever he roamed the land. On the western coast of the County Clare, people told tales about Donn na Duimhche, also called Donn Dumhach ("Donn of the Dunes"), a horseman whom you would often encounter at night. Later on, "Donn" simply became a title for any kind of Otherworld lord from folklore.

At the same time, we see a clear desire of the Irish people to distance themselves from some of the more gruesome rituals of the pagan Celtic religion: In the 9th century-hagiography Tripartite Life of Saint Patrick, Crom Cruach, the god who allegedly demanded the sacrifice of firstborn children in exchange for fertility, appears as Cenn Cruach (cenn meaning "head" or "chief" in Irish). When St. Patrick approaches his cult image made of gold and silver surrounded by twelve bronze figurines, he raises his crozier high, burning a mark into the central figure and toppling it face down, while the twelve smaller idols sink into the ground. The "demon" inhabiting the image then comes forth, with Patrick cursing him and banishing him to Hell. According to other versions, St. Patrick destroyed Crom's idol with a sledgehammer - either way, the god's bloody cult was put to an end by the Christian saint.

According to legend, it was St. Patrick who defeated Crom Cruach, knocking down his idol on the plain of Magh Slécht (top; Source); interestingly, a broken stone engraved with La Téne motifs has been found near the historic site (bottom; Source)

Interestingly, there is a large, carved stone which was found near the town of Killycluggin in the County Cavan, Ireland. It was discovered in close proximity to a Bronze Age stone circle, suggesting it may have originally stood at the center of it. Upon excavation, the stone was broken into several pieces, but one could still make out the swirls typical of the Celtic La Tène period art covering it. What could be restored of the roughly cone-shaped stone was brought to the Cavan County Museum, though a replica can be seen near the discovery site. According to estimations, the original monument was at least 1.8 meters/6 feet high, and there were four additional, rectangular panels at the base of the stone, each measuring 90cm in width and thus giving it a total circumference of 3.6 meters/12 feet. It's possible that the stone was always in the round shape of a head (the Celts saw the head as the seat of the human soul, leading to the development of their infamous head cult), although there are several hints that it might have been an anthropomorphic statue once. It has been suggested that the engravings at the sides represent the edge of a garment, and the furrows at the top resemble the depiction of hair in other La Tène-period sculptures. Moreover, the stone as a whole leans obliquely from the vertical, and if one imagines it as the head of a bigger statue, it would mean that the figure stood slightly bent over as well - perhaps this is what earned Crom Cruach his title of "crooked one of the hill". The original image may or may not have been gilded, although it wouldn't be unusual if it was: Among Celtic artisans, gold was a very popular metal for jewelry and other precious items, and we do know of a golden cult tree found in the Oppidum of Manching in Bavaria which was probably used for sacred purposes. Adding to the evidence, Killycluggin not only lies near the historic plain Magh Slécht, but the region has also several associations with St. Patrick. There is even a poem from the Book of McGovern written in the 14th century stating that the women of Kilnavert - a town close to Killycluggin - would tremble in fear when passing by the stone of Crom, which was situated at the side of the road. The local tradition identifies the Killycluggin Stone as the Crom stone, though it is unclear whether Crom Cruach or Crom Dubh (a folkloric figure based on Crom Cruach) is meant by this. Still, considering all of this, one might wonder if there is some kernel of truth behind the bone-chilling legends.

Nevertheless, the Christianization of Ireland was a peaceful process, and the pagan traditions slowly assimilated with the new Christian faith. Still, for some reason, the Christian holiday of All Hallow's Day was moved to November 1st during the course of the 8th century, the celebrations beginning one day before with a vigil held on All Hallow's Eve. In the Catholic Church, All Hallow's Day was a day to commemorate all saints and martyrs, usually taking place some time in spring. In 4th century Edessa, it was held on May 13th, the traditional date of Lemuria, an ancient Roman festival dedicated to honoring the dead. After Pope Gregory III had dedicated an oratory to all apostles, saints, and martyrs in the St. Peter's Basilica, however, November 1st gradually became the new accepted date. Theories about the reason for this vary, but it might be possible that the people of Celtic and Germanic regions found it to be more reconcilable with their former pagan beliefs, as the beginning of winter was when they held their festival in honor of the dead.

Whether this is true remains up for debate, but either way, the old pagan customs proved hard to kill, and the Irish people even made up their own folkloric figure associated with the holiday who was anything but a saint: the infamous Jack O'Lantern. Also known as Stingy Jack, he was a good-for-nothing scallywag earning his daily money by swindling and fraud, only to spend most of it on the joys of alcohol.

The most well-known version of his story goes like this: "One evening on All Hallow's Eve, while the drunken Jack was sitting in a pub, the devil suddenly appeared next to him, beckoning him to come with him. Not wanting to go to Hell, Jack quickly devised a trick: In the face of his impending death, he begged the devil to buy him one last drink, which he agreed to. However, after the devil had transformed into a sixpence piece because he had no money on him, Jack quickly stuffed it into his bag, where he kept a small silver cross. Because the devil was unable to get out in turn, he struck a bargain with Jack to leave him alone for ten more years in exchange for his freedom.

After ten years had passed, the devil once again returned on All Hallow's Eve to claim Jack's soul, only for the latter to ask him yet another favor: He begged him to get him an apple as a last meal. The devil agreed and climbed an apple tree to pluck the desired fruit, but Jack was quick to carve a cross into the bark with his knife. Being stuck on the tree, the devil made yet another deal with Jack, this time relenting to leave his soul alone for all eternity.

As Jack died many years later, he went to the gates of Heaven, asking for entry. However, since he had been anything but a good man during his life, he was denied and sent away. But when he arrived at Hell, the devil wouldn't let him in either, as he had given his word to never take Jack's soul. Thus, he directed Jack back where he came from - but since he took pity on him for having to go alone through the dark, cold, and windy night, he gave him a burning piece of coal straight from the fires of Hell, which Jack put into a hollow turnip he had taken along as a provision. Henceforth, barred from both Heaven and Hell, his doomed soul wandered through the night of All Hallow's Eve, and shall do so until the day of the Last Judgement..."

One of the most famous Halloween legends tells of Jack O'Lantern, also known as Stingy Jack or Jack the Smith, a cunning swindler whose evil deeds earn him an existence of eternal restlessness, left with only a turnip lantern to illuminate his way through darkness (Source)

It's remarkable that Jack's Limbo-like existence, banned from Heaven and Hell alike, provides an interesting parallel with Cernunnos' depiction as the lord of the Limbo in the Stuttgart Psalter. Furthermore, this tale pretty much invented the folkloric background behind the tradition of hollowing out and carving ghastly faces into turnips, putting a candlelight into them and placing them on the windowsills as protection. It was said that the lanterns represented spirits or supernatural beings, and they were believed to ward off the devil and any other malevolent spirits.

Still, it's noticeable that the turnip lanterns not only appeared in Ireland, but also the Scottish Highlands, the Isle of Manx, and parts of northern and western England - in short, all Gaelic-speaking and former Celtic regions of the British Isles. Meanwhile, they weren't widespread in England until the 20th century, which might suggest they have a deeper-rooted, pan-Celtic origin. Although it has been noted that the Irish have been carving turnips and other root vegetables for centuries, the cultivated form of the turnip as we know it was only brought to Great Britain in the 18th century. There are, however, accounts of lanterns made out of beets, a vegetable which did exist back in antiquity (beta, the ancient Latin name for the beetroot, is believed to be of Celtic origin as well). From a historic perspective, celery roots would make for another plausible candidate: Celeriac was a plant that was known since ancient times, being mentioned as far back as the Iliad and Odyssey, and was used for a variety of medical and religious purposes. In fact, celery even had associations with chthonic deities and the cult of the dead in Greek religion, with the leaves being used to make garlands for the deceased out of them. As for the Celts, archaeobotanical research conducted near the Heuneburg in Bavaria, a Celtic settlement from the Hallstatt period, proves that celeriac was cultivated and consumed by the Celts. So, perhaps what might have been a celery root lantern in antiquity became a turnip lantern in the 19th century.

However, the jack o'lanterns, as the carved turnips were called, would still undergo one major transformation: During the 19th century, droves of people emigrated from Scotland and Ireland to America, a process which was fueled even further by the Great Famine from 1845 to 1852. Everywhere they went, the Irish and Scottish people brought their traditions with them, and thus, the festival of All Hallow's Eve spread to the American continent. When they came to America, however, the emigrants discovered that the pumpkins growing abundantly there were much easier to carve than turnips, leading to the traditional turnip lanterns being replaced by pumpkin ones. Over time, they would become one of the most recognizable symbols of All Hallow's Eve, which eventually became known as Halloween.

Modern traditions and Halloween

Although the celebration of Halloween as we know it today is largely derived from Irish and Scottish customs, there are many local variants of Samhain across the British Isles. On the Isle of Man, the festival on the night of October 31st is known as Hop-tu-Naa and believed to be one of the oldest Manx traditions, continuing until today. The name stems from one of the various silly rhymes sung by children during the festival, who dress up and go from house to house asking for sweets. To light their way, they carry carved turnip lanterns with them, with the decorative motifs varying depending on the locality. Furthermore, there are various cultural events taking place across the Isle of Man during this occasion, including competitions in artistic turnip carving, the singing of folk songs, and the so-called Hop-tu-Naa dance, a traditional procession dance for pairs. In the past, there were also various divination customs associated with Hop-tu-Naa, primarily centered around death and marriage just like the Irish ones: Before retiring for the night, people would rake the hearth's ashes smooth, and if there were footprints pointing to the inside of the house, it heralded a future birth - if, however, the footprints led out the door, it meant that someone would die. Girls and young women would come together to bake a Soddag Valloo ("Dumb Cake") in silence, preparing the ingredients including flour, eggs, eggshells, soot, and salt and baking the cake over the embers of the hearth. Dividing the pieces between them, they would eat them without a word and walk backwards to bed, expecting to see their future husband offering them a drink of water in a dream. Other means to learn the identity of your future spouse were to steal a salt herring from your neighbor, eat it including the bones and then retire to bed at midnight, or to take a mouthful of water and a pinch of salt into your hands while listening in on your neighbor's conversation - the first name mentioned would be that of your spouse. Finally, any leftovers from the evening meal - usually consisting of mrastyr, a dish made of potatoes, parsnips, and fish mashed up with butter - would be put out for the fairies, in addition to jugs of fresh water.

The characteristic turnip lanterns can also be found in the West Country of England: In a local tradition known as Punkie Night, the children of Somerset will go around with a jack o'lantern on the last Thursday of October, singing ryhmes like "Give me a candle, give me a light/If you don't, you'll get a fright" or "Give me a candle, give me a light/If you don't, a penny's all right". The lyrics originates from the tradition of children begging for candles and money, possibly to help their families through the winter. In times past, farmers would also put a "Punkie", as the lanterns are called by the locals, on their gates to ward off evil spirits.

Meanwhile, in Cornwall, Kalan Gwav ("the first day of winter"), also known as Allantide or Saint Allan's Day, is a festival held on the eve of November 1st in honor of St. Allan, who was the bishop of the Briton city Quimper in the 6th century. Although dedicated to Christian souls in an intermediate state, the most recognizable symbol of the holiday were the large, red, glossy Allan's apples which people would buy from markets to gift them to friends and relatives as tokens of good luck. Girls put the apples under their pillows in the hopes of dreaming of the person they would one day marry, and similar to the Irish variant of snap apple, there was a local game where four apples would be fixed to a cross with candles on it which was hung from the ceiling - if you failed catching the apples with your mouth, you would be hit by the hot wax. In addition, the custom of throwing two walnuts into the fire to divine the fidelity of a partner also existed in Cornwall, as well as pouring molten lead into water to see what shape it took, which was supposed to indicate the occupation of your future husband.

Turnip lanterns were not only common in Ireland, but also Scotland, Wales, the Isle of Manx, Somerset, and Cornwall; above is an example from the latter region (Source)

In Wales, the same festival is known as Calan Gaeaf, with Nos Calan Gaeaf - the night preceding November 1st - being one of the three Ysbrydnos, the "spirit nights" of the year. Around this time, people avoid going near churchyards, stiles, and crossroads, as spirits are believed to gather in these places. According to old tradition, a bonfire would be lit on the night of October 31st, while women and children would mark rocks with their names or other signs and place them in and around the fire. All of them would dance around the fire it died down, and once it did, everyone would rush to their homes, believing that two fearsome apparitions known as Yr Hwch Ddu Gwta (a tailess black sow accompanied by a headless woman) and Y Ladi Wen ("the white lady", another headless ghost) would chase them and devour the soul of the last one to remain behind. On the following morning, all stones of the villagers would be checked, and if they were burned clean, it considered a sign of good luck - if any were missing, however, that meant the person who marked it would die within a year. Apple bobbing, known as Twco Fala in Wales, was also a popular game at Calan Gaeaf, and there were various customs which allegedly allowed you to see into the future. For the boys, it was cutting ten leaves of Ivy, throwing one away and placing the rest under their pillow before going to sleep, while the girls would have to take their time to grow a rose in the form of a hoop, pass through the ring three times, and then cut the rose to place it under their pillow. If unmarried women darkened their rooms and looked into the window at Nos Calan Gaeaf, it was said they would see the face of their future groom - if not, they should peel an apple and throw the peel over their shoulder, which would form the initial letter of their husband's name. However, if the woman saw a skull in the mirror, it meant she would die during the next year.

Still, there were some Welsh traditions that slightly differed from the usual Samhain ones: The custom of the caseg fedi, also known as "harvest mare", was once very common in Wales. When the harvest was almost done, the last sheaf of corn on the field would be left standing, with the men of the reaping party trying to cut it down by throwing their hooks. The most unskilled worker would begin, and it was a great honor for whoever managed to cut the caseg fedi, which would be braided into the shape of a small horse or a woman afterwards. Female grain figures were colloquially called "Cailleach", after the old, sorcerous hag from Gaelic myth who acted as a personification of winter (alternatively, the word cailleach could also mean "witch"). Still, the ritual was not complete yet: The one who cut the caseg fedi also had the duty of bringing the sheaf into the house without it getting wet, which was made difficult by servant maids who were waiting next to the house with buckets of water to douse the reaper. If he managed to keep it dry regardless, the house's owner would give the reaper money for as much beer as he desired; if not, he would have to endure sitting at the foot of the table in shame. Once the harvest was brought in and the livestock to be slaughtered had been chosen, a large feast would be prepared, with all the women of the village lending a hand in cooking the food. As thanks for the harvest, people would eat a dish known as stwmp naw rhyw cooked over a large fire, usually containing various kinds of vegetables, milk, and butter. Although many of these customs have died out nowadays, it's evident the Welsh folk beliefs have strongly influenced some later All Hallow's Eve traditions observed in the country: People would light candles in the church, believing to be able to predict the future from the way they burned, as well as preparing the hearth at home for the arrival of their dead relatives, put some food outside, and leave the doors unlocked. The Allhallowtide tradition of "souling" - gathering soul cakes in exchange for reciting songs - was known as "collecting food for the messenger of the dead", and people would pray to God to "bless the next crop of wheat" upon receiving soul cakes.

Meanwhile, the Christian customs of All Hallow's Eve are largely discontinued in Great Britain itself, but still practiced in areas like Sheffield and Cheshire. Formerly, every family would bake soul cakes filled with treats like raisins, currants, allspice, nutmeg, cinnamon, or ginger, marked with a cross to signify they were alms. Afterwards, some would be placed together with wine outside the door - an offering for the dead in early Christianity - while the rest was given out to soulers, children and beggars who would go from house to house during the days of Allhallowtide from October 31st to November 2nd. While going "souling", they would carry a turnip lantern and sometimes wear a disguise - either a long black cloak, or a costume of a saint or imitated spirit. Bonfires were also lit at Allhallowtide, being associated with purgatory from Christian tradition. Alternatively, the fire might be replaced by candles, such as in Lancashire where there was a custom of carrying candles up a hill an hour before midnight to ward off witches. Ironically, although Christianity deemed any kind of pagan magic ineffective, the divination games also survived the change of faith, with Halloween being colloquially called "nut-crack night" or "snap-apple night" in some regions. In Cheshire, the souling party occasionally even featured an "Old Hob", a horse head on a pole which was carried by a man hidden beneath a sheet - sometimes, the soulers even performed a death-and-resurrection play, with one of the participants being required to wear a horse skull. Although souling is not wide-spread in Great Britain any more nowadays, it has equivalents in Portugal and the Philippines, where the tradition is still very much alive. Furthermore, the evening before Halloween has become known as "Mischief Night" in northern England (being locally called "Mizzy Night" or "Chievous Night"), a time when teens throw around eggs, stick chewing gum into car door locks, and wrap their neighbors' trees in toilet paper as a kind of coming of age ritual - something which certainly doesn't seem a far cry away from Halloween pranks.

In continental Europe, people more commonly celebrate St. Martin's Day on November 11th, which is occasionally called "Old Halloween" or "Old Hallowmas Eve". In many countries, it's celebrated as the time when the first wine is ready for tasting, but in some regions, specifically Germany and the Netherlands, there are various traditions quite similar to Samhain: For example, it was very common to light bonfires in the Rhineland up until the 19th century, with young people dancing around them, leaping through the flames, and strewing the ashes across the fields for fertility. A meal of Martinmas goose is a widespread custom, as is a procession of children going around the town with paper or turnip lanterns, singing songs for candy in return. Sometimes, these processions are led by a horseman representing St. Martin, handing out gifts like apples, nuts, cakes or other sweets to the children. In the Czech Republic, there is a proverb saying "St. Martin is coming on a white horse". Interestingly, this belief seems to have taken on an entirely different note in the Irish County Wexford: It is said that no one should go to sea on St. Martin's Day, as St. Martin is riding on a white horse across Wexford Bay, bringing death to any seafarers by drowning - a folktale which seems quite reminiscent of Donn the horseman.

However, the most widespread celebration still has to be Halloween as we know it today, which developed in America and subsequently spread to all of the western hemisphere, albeit with some local variations. On October 31st, millions of people all around the world don costumes of vampires, witches, skeletons, werewolves, and other scary creatures, going to parties and parades to celebrate the occasion - not so much to drive off evil spirits, but to simply enjoy the creepy atmosphere. Just like centuries ago, trick-or-treating is a very popular custom among today's children, who love to dress up for Halloween and go from door to door asking for sweets - and whoever is stingy enough not to donate anything might just find themselves at the butt of a mischievous prank. Although today's jack o'lanterns are made from pumpkins instead of turnips, they have become a true icon of the holiday, with pumpkins being a popular choice for Halloween decorations, merchandise, and food.

Today's Halloween is a time for spooky parties and parades (bottom right; Source), and an opportunity for people to adorn their homes with jack o'lanterns and scary decorations (top left; Source); some of the old Celtic gods even made their way into pop culture, such as Crom Cruach who is depicted as an underground snake in "The Secret of Kells" (bottom left; Source); in addition, the Horned King from Disney's "The Black Cauldron" (top right; Source) bears a striking resemblance to Cernunnos

Even the ancient Celtic gods have found their way into modern media: In the 2009 movie "The Secret of Kells", Crom Cruach is depicted as a giant, ravenous snake living underground. Arawn, the king of the Otherworld from Welsh mythology, was adapted into the ruler of the land of death in Lloyd Alexander's fantasy novel series "The Chronicles of Prydain". The power-hungry, cunning Arawn not only seeks to rule all of Prydain, but also possesses a magic cauldron enabling him to revive the dead, who serve him as his merciless warriors. In "The Black Cauldron", Disney's loose adaptation of Alexander's novels from 1985, Arawn's role is passed to the Horned King, whose appearance is quite reminiscent of Cernunnos.

With all of this being said, we can conclude that while Halloween has certainly come a long way from its roots, it has lost none of its essence as a night of spirits and the supernatural. So, as a piece of good advice: Honor your ancestors, don't upset any spirits, and take care!

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Alright, that's it for Samhain! To everyone who joined me during this series, I want to express my heartfelt thanks for accompanying me on this exploration of the celebrations of our pagan ancestors and the modern holidays that developed from then. It's been one hell of a ride, and I hope it was just as insightful for you as it was for me.

Thank you all for your overwhelmingly positive feedback, and may we meet again in the future! :-)

#samhain #halloween #paganism #celtic paganism #cernunnos #sucellus #nantosuelta #dagda #the morrígan #crom cruach #jack o'lantern #stingy jack #all hallows eve #allhallowtide

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potassium-pilot · 9 months

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FFXIVWrite 2023, Prompt 29: Contravention

In the midnight hush hanging over the Sito household, Oliver slept soundly in his bed in the cabin, tucked away beneath his warm sheets. It was a sound sleep until it wasn't, a strange noise prompting him to blink awake. He sat up, looking around the place, only to see that Hector wasn't in bed with him. The Midlander rose from bed and began a search about the cabin. It didn't take long as five fulms away from him, his Highlander life partner sat on the floor in front of a hastily made crib held together by what little carpentry skills Hector had and magic from Oliver, carrying his axe in his hands, staring intently at the door.

"Go back t' sleep, Ollie."

Oliver did no such thing. "Hector, what in the name of the Scholar are you doing?"

"If anyone's takin' our baby from us, they're eatin' metal."

"What?! Who would try?"

"I dunno, but I'm prepared for anythin'."

"Hector, no one knows but us."

"That we know of."

Oliver sighed. "Please come to bed. The baby will be safe in there."

"No. I ain't riskin' a damn thing."

"Gods sakes, Hector..."

Before they could argue the point further, a wailing sound erupted from the crib behind Hector. He threw down his axe and hopped up to look. The baby was crying, and Hector would answer quickly, the Highlander reaching in and taking hold of her, trying his best to shush her gently.

"C'mon, ye got nothin' to cry 'bout, do ye? Whatcha need? Ye hungry?"

"I fed her not long ago. Check her diaper."

Hector undid her tightly swaddled blanket and checked her diaper.

"Clean as a whistle. Maybe we just woke 'er up." Hector tried rocking her gently, only for the baby to start coughing between her cries.

"...d'ye hear tha', Ollie?"

"I did..."

"Ollie, c'mere."

Oliver approached him and the baby. "She feel warm t' ye?"

Oliver took a hand and placed it gently on her forehead. "A bit...let me see her for a moment."

Hector handed the crying baby to him, and Oliver took to examining her with magic.

"Oh...oh dear."

"Ollie? What is it? What's wrong?"

"I suppose it's to be expected. We don't know how long she was left in the forest alone."

"Ollie, is our baby sick?"

Oliver frowned. "I believe so. Thankfully, I believe this is something I can heal." Oliver sat on the bed and hovered a hand over the baby with the blue glow of Esuna. The baby continued wailing as he healed.

"Oh, I know", Oliver cooed, "Everything hurts, doesn't it? You've gone through an ordeal today, little one."

"No kiddin'. I dunno 'ow I lost me own mother 'n father, but I 'ope it wasn't nothin' as 'arsh as greenwrath."

"Well, we don't know if it was both. It may well have been just one of the parents."

"Don't be puttin' anxieties in your 'ead, Ollie. E'en if was just one, we ain't gettin' out, and they ain't gettin' in."

"I'm aware...but dear..."

"I know. E'en if they both passed on, we're proper kidnappers."

"That is true, but I was thinking something else."

"Ollie?"

Oliver kept his focus on the child, trying to get the last of the disease purged from her body. About ten seconds of focus, he could feel as the disease left her, soothing any remaining inflammation as a result and leaving a happier baby overall. Her crying ceased.

"There. Isn't that better?"

The baby reached her arms out towards Oliver, who took it as a sign that she wished to be held closer. He lifted the baby towards his chest, and let her wrap her tiny arms around his shoulders.

"She already looks better", Hector sighed in relief.

"Much better." Oliver slowly fell backwards that he could rest his head on the pillow while the baby could rest against him. Hector went to his side of the bed and sat down to join Oliver and the newly healed infant.

"Do we want to stick with the name stitched on the blanket?" Oliver asked quietly.

"I like the simplicity, Ollie. Whoever dropped 'er gave 'er a fine name."

"That's something I was thinking about, Hector."

"Whaddya mean?"

"Isn't it peculiar that she was found uninjured?"

"I...guess so. Just means the forest didn't 'urt her."

"No, it didn't. But if it was a swift case of greenwrath, then don't you think she would have been dropped?"

"...maybe they saw it comin'."

"'Tis possible, but then another thing springs to mind. Why would they leave her name on a blanket?"

"I dunno. Some parents're crazy."

"That is also true, but I couldn't help but inspect the remains we found nearby whilst you searched for wood for the crib. They had nothing on them. Some gil, and that was it. Don't you think if they were to care for a child, they would have brought something for the child?"

"If it was 'er mum, she 'ad food right ready for 'er on command."

Oliver turned his head to face Hector with a disgusted look. "That's...not even remotely how it works...though I do see your point..."

"Well, what? Ye thinkin' she was left behind on purpose?"

"It just feels odd to me. Everything about the way we found her, that large boom, that purposeful placement...I just think that maybe, even though what we are doing right now is very much illegal, it might be the only hope she has. I don't think her parents were like to keep her."

Hector shrugged his shoulders. "Guess we'll ne'er know. But look, we got 'er, righ'? So let's not think too 'ard 'bout the 'ow of it, and let's just focus on keepin' 'er alive now."

"Hector...you have to sleep. You can't protect the baby if you're exhausted. This cabin is entirely cloaked from view. The chances of anyone coming in are nigh non-existent."

Hector sighed. "Fine."

He took to staring up at the ceiling, thinking of the choices that led him here. He wondered what his former crewmates from his days of marauding Limsa would think. He wondered what the version of him that swindled Ul'dahns would think. He was a father now- illegally so, but he took his role seriously nonetheless. There wasn't anyone that could take that away from him. He's committed plenty of crimes before. What's one more? Especially when it led to the tiny life that laid against the chest of the love of his life, this was a good final crime for him to hang up his hat and never look back.

He heard tiny "Ah! Ah!" from his left ear. He turned and saw the baby's outstretched arm reaching for him, her fingers flexing. Hector reached a finger for her hand. The baby grabbed hold of his index finger with a tight grip. Hector grinned.

"Good nigh', Dia. I'll see ye in the mornin'."

#ffxiv #ffxivwrite #ffxivwrite2023 #f elezen wol #original characters #fanfiction #ill have to expand on this one later

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zorkaya-moved · 11 months

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Fuyumi slips into the infirmary where many of the downed Scions rest, their bodies recovering from the ordeal of coming back from the First. With her spending most of her days lately hiding in the Rising Stones, her face was a welcomed sight. She was always here paying the others a visit, assisting them, delivering news of anything that is going on the outside world. Mercifully, it's been as peaceful as it can be lately.

She greets everybody with her usual smile, waving towards them as she makes her way towards the person who was getting her attention this time. Very carefully, she sits down on the edge of Zarina's bed. Before she could say anything to her however, she hands her a slip of paper. As soon as Zarina takes it she covers her face, suddenly very giddy. Oh dear.

' Alphinaud kissed me while we were out yesterday for his physical therapy. Don't make a scene. '

@galaxiasus

Return from the First remains as one of the hardest ordeals she has ever gone through. Unlike other Scions, she was separated from her body for a couple of years within the world of light. How grateful she is to have such a close companionship with Fuyumi. Zarina, even since her return, has been recovering just a bit longer than the others. It's a pathetic feeling, really. She knows herself to recover at a fast pace, but Krile almost beat her into submission when she tried to get out of the infirmary. Damn scholar and her scholarly behaviors. She and Y'shtola can go and—

Oh, Fuyumi walks in. Immediately, golden eyes watch the Warrior of Light as she strides forward. It seems like there is lightness to the girl's step, it's obvious from her behavior, her speed, and the way she walks. The boy language tells more than any word or expression can. How curious. What got the Au'Ra into such a good mood?

The answer to the Juggernaut's question comes with a slip of paper. Zarina raises her eyebrow as she takes it, but not taking her eyes away from the other. This girl is akin to daughter to her, a younger sister for sure. Fuyumi is family and returning to the Source means that there is something else that made the girl happy. It becomes even more obvious when Fuyumi covers her with a blanket, giddy behavior not escaping the watchful eye of the older woman.

What's gotten into her? But the answer comes to her in a second as the paper slip is given to her and then Fuyumi hides herself under the blanket. Her giggles make the Elezen raise her eyebrow in curiosity, but she immediately takes the paper slip and looks at what's been written there.

Her sweet little daughter (or sister) has been underestimated by those around her when it came to her determination and her patience. It's something Sokolova knew since the beginning, especially when one infamous kazanova and one childhood companion have both spoken against her speaking those tender feelings out.

Zarina can feel her pride for Fuyumi swell in her chest, but her face remains relaxed and calm as if she's reading off a list that Fuyumi brought for groceries to give her knowledge about what she'll be fed today. Oh, but inside she is clapping at Fuyumi's message. Oh, she knew the young Warrior of Light will win and will remain victorious.

I'm going to get so fucking rich, is what Sokolova thinks when she folds the paper again and puts it under her pillow. It seems the ongoing for years of bets will finally be resolved the next time Thancred gets up and Estinien comes back. She cannot wait to see the faces of those two men and rub it in their faces that women must never be underestimated. Oh, her pockets are going to be even heavier. I need to buy Fuyumi whatever she wants with that money.

#galaxiasus #❄ ― IN CHARACTER. ╱ you breathe by the sun，i breathe by the moon.#fuyumi: teehee #zarina: teehee indeed. :)

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queerbrownvegan · 1 year

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My return to California led me to Northern California in Monterrey, where I was climbing rocks in Dr. Martin's boots (which I don't recommend). I've been focusing on producing slower independent media that highlights climate solutions, working with a series of experts in a moving interview of landscapes. I haven't been able to truly feel aligned with my work until recently when I realized that my work is constantly evolving into a space that seeks to go beyond the binaries of what is constructed of climate digital media. The biggest issue I still face is getting funding for my career; every day, it's a battle. I never saw myself being around academia after experiencing trauma and constant doubts about my intelligence. But then, I'm reminded of all the academic scholars who believe in my work and want to collaborate. I recently worked with one of my mentors who has influenced the way I see and shifted my climate work to looking at evidence-based hope (coined by academic scholar Elin Kelsey) that celebrates the continued momentum of progress that is being made. Sometimes we cannot see hope visible because we are fed with fatalistic media. We see biodiversity loss, we see plastic pollution, and we see that our anxiety rises for the future of the planet. But then, many of us need to remember the wins happening locally, whether the whale population increases or even other species creating resilient systems on rocks, trees, and under the water. Sometimes we cannot see hope! I sometimes feel so conflicted calling myself an environmental scholar-activist because I never got my Masters and decided to omit my applications to grad school. The work I do today has brought me back to the scholarly world, so I cannot be more than thankful for the life I have today. I plan to continue working with academic scholars to help communicate climate solutions and spread more power in information than problem identification. I focused the last few years on identifying issues and now want to build solutions for our collective well-being. -qbv

#queerbrownvegan #hope #evidence based hope #activism #justice #social justice #environmental justice #mental health #sustainability #climate change #climate crisis #environmentalism #bipoc #intersectionality #intersectional environmentalist

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the-great-elwisty · 2 years

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Day 10: Fish out of Water

A/N Set not long prior to the NWN2 Original Campaign.

Nevalle dreams of schoolrooms, ink and heaps of fresh parchment. There will be bundles of goose feathers and reeds already prepared for use, though only for the older children and the best scholars, of course: most will have to make do with chalk and slate tablets, or styluses and wax. There will be abaci. A map of Faerun on the wall. Books of reference. Even if the teacher is a drunken lout and a fool, as one of his certainly was, the children will be able to learn despite the limitations of their background. Though he will personally monitor the selection of the teachers to make sure that no time-wasters or boozers slip in.

He dreams sitting at his desk, a list of the most recent commodity prices before him, and annotates, rounds and estimates. He estimates to two decimal points, as an expert clerk should.

In total, it will cost ten point six ounces of fine gold to stock a school of fifty children for one month, inclusive of a simple breakfast of oatmeal and milk, and excluding the teacher’s salary. He knows that in theory – if he compromised on the quality of the teacher, if he forgot about any but the most basic resources and left seeing the children fed to the purses and tempers of their parents – one school could run for a month on fewer than ten ounces.

But that would be like the miller he had seen on trial the other day, fined for mixing sawdust in with the flour, or like the case of the Greycloak sergeant Griffon who had contrived to sell his troop’s weapons on the black market and buy in cheap replacements for half the amount, just in time for the Luskan army to arrive at the walls: an abasement of standards that devours the greater purpose. The worst kind of compromise.

“Attend. Are you ready for your lesson?” The bland voice of the knight Melia echoes through the wooden door of his bedroom-cum-study.

He stands smoothly and carefully, as he has learned to do. As a new recruit to the palace guard, he would have hurried to open the door to his superior in rank and length of service. He had been trained out of that quickly.

“I am. Who may I expect?”

“Open and see,” she says. Sometimes she gave him a straight answer The second or third lesson, she had replied “the unexpected!” but since then she had stopped making light remarks in her own person. She understood that he would not appreciate them. Today she is testing him, as is fair, and is furthermore a much more effective way of learning than shadowing Sir Darmon on his spinning, springing, laughing progress through the court.

Melia stands approximately three feet away from the threshold of his room. Her dark hair is worn up in a nest of complex plaits, though a few strands have been allowed to curl at the side of her cheeks, as if through chance. It was a statement: long loose hair in a woman signalled remembrance of Aribeth and suspect loyalty. Hair in a single plait down the back, or curled into a bun, was to be seen throughout the Blacklake District these days, and meant faith in Lord Nasher, or at least the wish to appear true to him. What Melia wears today is referencing either the old regime, the Amnish, or Waterdeep where such styles persist.

The cut of the dress is simple, loosely belted at the waist and unpadded at the breast and hips, the colour black, as would be appropriate for mourning, or for a priest doing penance, or for a member of one of the more unpleasant cults of the Sword Coast. Despite the dress’s simplicity, the material looks to him like velvet. There are discreet froths of ivory Moonshae lace at each wrist.

He has already seen the pin worn on the left to show a connection to the heart, and it makes the test far too easy. The blue-and-white bud of gemstones that might be taken for an Eye of Tyr, would have been taken for such by him a short time ago, but in fact stood for the delphinium crest of one of the old houses, one with few living representatives, and no children.

“Lady Tamberlis, you do me great honour.” Because this is not really Lady Tamberlis, it is not hard to filter any wisp of displeasure out of his tone. He hopes he can do as well if confronted with the real woman.

Melia raises her chin. Looks at him askance from under silvered eyelids. “Honour is all very well, young man, but only if actions match words. The door to the audience chamber is behind you. You and your honour are in my way.”

So that is his task in today’s play: to learn what the aristocrat wants from Lord Nasher, and then to let her through or find a means of turning her about, as the case demands. You may hate it and them, Melia had said in an earlier trial, and may look at them and see nothing but painted toy dragons, but they still have connections, and status, and wealth. Treat them as if their teeth can still bite.

“My apologies, milady,” he says with a small bow towards her, but does not otherwise change his position. “I must beg your patience a little longer.”

Although she is much shorter than he, Melia contrives not to seem so. A twist of a lip, a flicker of an eyebrow, and she disappears into her projection of the tall, sharp-featured Tamberlis, an improbable apparition to encounter in this obscure back corridor of Castle Never. “Beg, by all means. I expect I will enjoy it. But as for patience, I have none, and rate it as no great virtue.”

He does not attempt to counter her ‘humour’ with a jab of his own. That is not how he works best, and he knows it. “Then let it be such, and we shall come straight to the matter at hand. You must be driven by some urgent business to travel here in person at this hour.”

It is within the usual audience times, but still well before noon, and few people of rank in Neverwinter stir themselves to activity before then. Lord Nasher is in the habit of rising before dawn and going straight to work; when Nevalle attended him at breakfast a ten-day ago, the city’s Protector had said to him confidingly that if his courtiers could only manage to get out of bed at a reasonable time, they would have succeeded in deposing him years ago. Nevalle was very glad that they had not, and said as much.

“Perhaps it is so. And if that is the case, would I be liable to share my business with Nasher’s door boy, and not Nasher himself?”

Melia has captured the mixture of condescension and arrogance perfectly. He suspects she is enjoying herself.

Even though he knows this is not real, his temper sparks. “Since you have no other means of gaining your audience, certainly.”

Without changing her expression, she adjusts her stole so that it hangs from one shoulder. “And go prattling the secret knowledge of state to a guard? To the son of an excise clerk? You see, I take an interest in palace affairs, young Nevalle.”

“My father is a loyal servant of Lord Nasher, as am I.”

“For clerks, loyalty is done and undone in the slash of a pen. They can have no real concept of higher loyalty, the loyalty of sworn soldiers, knights and princes. For your kind it begins and ends with a monthly pay-packet, loyalty till sunset on working days then home to supper in a house on the peninsula.”

He feels his cheeks flush with anger, and regrets the light complexion that gives him away so easily. Tamberlis – no, Melia playing Tamberlis – lets a hint of amusement show, but, seeing it, he collects himself. Yes, his father is an exciseman, and he is proud of him. It is people like his father, literate, sober and honourable, who have kept Neverwinter alive and ensured the state could fend off the attacks from Luskan and the orcs. When Tamberlis and her circle of spoiled bullies were in charge, the city went bankrupt and the Greycloaks mutinied. Lord Nasher remembers that, owes his throne to the long-ago turmoil in the Year of the Bloodbird, and has given many indications that he feels as Nevalle does on the issue of which class of person has more to offer the future.

“I would die for Lord Nasher,” he replies calmly. “I have sworn to do so as a guard, but even if I were not bound by an oath, he is my master and I owe him my life as part of my duty to the state.”

Melia raises her eyebrows. “How novel. Do you really mean that?”

“Every word.”

The disguised knight pauses, watching his face as if she can search out the truth of his pledge there. At last, she says, “I suppose you’ll do.”

And she pulls off her stole and stuffs it under one arm. A few plucks of the fingers to draw out concealed pins, and with a shake of the head her plaits fall free to rest on her shoulders. Her posture subtly shifts, not relaxing or becoming more official, but seeming to pass through a mirror, so that, where Tamberlis had stood there was now an oval-faced young knight wearing a black dress that sits ill with her complexion.

“Here’s the news then,” continues Melia. “Lord Nasher will leave a few days from now on a progress round his territories. From Fort Locke in the south to Old Owl Well and Helm’s Hold and up to Port Llast on the border. And every village and town of any size in between. We expect trouble: the land has been unsettled ever since the war. You will lead his personal guard, while Sir Darmon commands a troop of Greycloaks detached from Callum’s mountain men.”

When he nearly lost his temper, he thought he had failed the test that day. Now it seems that his mistake did not matter: the responsibility Melia has given him is a great one, and an unmistakeable sign of favour for she would not have done so without Lord Nasher’s blessing. The possibilities, the probabilities that lie before him are ones he would not have dared imagine for himself a year ago. The only blight on them will be sharing the road with Sir Darmon and his clowning and jokes and triviality for the next month or more.

“Thank you,” he says. “I will not disappoint him.”

She cocks her head on one side. “You don’t seem surprised.”

He blinks. The sudden switch from apparent failure to reward and success, from being insulted by an imitation of an old, ugly witch to being given a promotion in fact if not in name yet, had surprised him. But he is not shocked by the task itself. “I am well-qualified for the task. It requires someone who is well-organised, knows the roads, knows the guard, and who can fight. I match the description.”

She gives him an odd unaccountable smile that he has only seen her wear a few times before, when she listens in on council meetings from discreet corners of the chamber. “Yes, well I’m sure that all helps too.”

After she has left, he returns to his room and spends the next hour noting the tasks that will need to be completed, and the equipment that will have to be gathered, inspected and packed before the expedition can depart. Then he has to leave for his guarding shift between noon and sunset, and afterwards he is invited to share the dining table that evening with Lord Nasher, a few of the Nine and the usual tideline-mess of courtiers, merchants and aristocrats. In the short time he has left before bed, he hurries through more of the preparations, visiting the kitchens and armoury and consulting with the old retainers who have been working in supplies and logistics since before Nevalle was born.

It is midnight before he is able to lie down again. The reed lamp on the table continues to smoulder, giving off an uncertain light. Now and again footsteps pass in the corridor outside his room. And as he lies awake, exhausted by his long day yet still burning with satisfaction at his new status, his new advancement, he lets his eyes wander over the ceiling, and he dreams.

A network of schools over the city is feasible. He knows it. And one day, when he has proved his competence so many times that no one can doubt him, he can show his plan to Lord Nasher, and they will build them together. Just one at first, as a trial model. But once that is refined, the same pattern can be replicated in every district of the lower and middle-ranking citizens.

Nevalle’s dreams are weighted with figures and lists. In his imaginary schoolroom, the children sit in neat lines and wear clean, if darned and patched, clothes – though that has not been included in the budget. Clothes will have to wait for a third, unplanned stage to be realised. None of the children have faces and – as he finally drifts off to sleep – they look up at him standing at the teacher’s lectern, and their heads are simply outlines framed by the plain limewashed walls. But they will be the future. The school will happen, and Neverwinter will thrive.

#nevervember #neverwinter nights #nwn2

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nihiladditaenihilperdidi · 2 months

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Plundell Street Pt. 1 || Rune + Enoch || September 25th, 1924

Enoch: He had stayed out longer than expected. He knew he shouldn’t have, but curiosity led the young scholar to push aside responsibilities in favor of exploring the unknown. And everything about Rune was just that. Felix. The name felt foreign on his tongue, but a few more repetitions would take care of that as Enoch got ready that morning. A glance at his clock told him he would run late if he got distracted. But the scene from last night played out in his head much like the first night. It left him doubting the space between reality and his imagination. Here he was, chasing ghost stories with a stranger he barely knew. Yet…

Nimble fingers worked the last of his jacket buttons, and with that, he grabbed his leather satchel and flew out of his room and down the stairs. A piece of toast hung loosely between his lips as he fixed himself a cup of tea to go as he set off for his lecture. Already, students had gathered in the classroom as Enoch finally walked in, having eaten his toast, and only a small amount of his tea was left to swallow down as he nodded to the class.

“Good morning.”

The class was made of men close in age to Enoch, and because of that, sometimes it was a struggle to demand respect when some of his students saw themselves as superior to their instructor. But that wouldn’t be the case today, hopefully.

“Let’s get started, shall we?”

The leather satchel was set on the desk as Enoch nodded at the class and started his lecture. Today's topic was chemical analysis using polar graphics. Almost immediately, the blond turned to the chalkboard and started writing down the details, drawing a diagram, and answering any questions that came along the way. He was well within his element, becoming more animated as he fed off the energy his class gave as they engaged in the topic.

Rune: Another restless night. Another morning with rope burn, thick red indents around his wrist leaning all of his weight into his arm as he slept. A calling somewhere, perhaps. He stared at his damaged skin and sighed. There was no perhaps about it. Something somewhere, someone, wanted him. There was always something, but he wasn't the only mage to exist. He wouldn't kill him to pass the reins every now and again.

More besides, he had a duty to attend to here. He couldn't call himself an exorcist and leave Diana to wander aimlessly. Tethered to a fetter and too scared to leave her neighborhood.

But, first came a bath, and a lecture. He closed his eyes, feeling the hour and realizing, if he didn't move his ass, he would miss Enoch altogether.

Enoch: Teaching a new subject was always exciting, especially when it was cutting-edge. Today’s topic explained how to test these polar positions via chemical assays, and that was exciting! At least for the chemist in the room. Seeing where a proton or even an electron would reshape the scientific world. Enoch had stayed up going over the recent publishings that had come out over the subject he was teaching and was more than willing to brainstorm ideas on how to use these techniques to push the needle of knowledge forward.

But he pushed forward as he drew out the diagrams and even broke them down to the mathematical equation from which this all came. Perhaps he could use this to study magic on a molecular level… He kept this to himself as he turned to the class to ask them a question.

“So what current theory could benefit from this type of analysis?”

Rune: He didn't know which room belonged to Enoch, or whether he was in the correct building in the first place. Saying he wanted to be here had been a tease, and yet there he was, satchel over his shoulders, peeking on his toes through each little window, straining his good ear for the sound of that familiar voice.

When found, Rune pressed his back to the adjacent wall. The door was closed. He knew better than to open and potentially trip the scholar's momentum.

Why he ran all the way here, why he had put in this effort, he couldn't say. He slid to the floor, knees raised, and waited quietly on the other side.

Enoch: Few ventured to guess the answer after Enoch had posed the question. The scholar patiently waited for anyone to raise their hand, and ultimately, a few did yet their answers weren't on the mark.

"You've all heard of DNA, right?"

There were a few chuckles from the students as they realized the answer but Enoch was a kind teacher that didn't reprimand his class like older colleagues would. The lecture continued even as Rune arrived at the classroom. He would be able to hear the English tones of Enoch as he turned back to the board to work out practice problems. All together it would take a little while before class was dismissed. But when it was, the students filtered out of the room, murmuring about the class or what they had to do next.

Enoch lingered behind to pack his satchel and tuck away his notebook before he emerged from the classroom. He wasn't expecting to see his mentor there on the floor.

The blonde did a double take before he stopped, staring at Rune.

"Why hello there....I didn't think you'd actually come..."

Rune: "I didn't want to cause a disturbance," whispered the mage, keeping his German between the two of them. With students still in the hall, he wanted to keep himself small and unintrusive.

"You sound very confident with a chalkboard behind you," he smirked.

Enoch: Enoch shook his head as he looked down at Rune. It would have been fine. He wouldn't have seen it as a disturbance. Quite the opposite, it would have been nice to have a familiar face in the lecture hall.

"Ah, because that is my true element, not time manipulation or spirits," Enoch chuckled, having grown accustomed to automatically switching to German whenever Rune was around.

But the mage had picked up on it, there was a certain enjoyment in teaching when it came to sharing knowledge, and Enoch found it exciting to explore the new advancements in the field and feed off new ideas.

The scholar still had that young professor's energy since he had only been recently hired on to the academy. Over time it would wear out.

"Next time you'll have to sit in, now that you know where my classroom is."

A pale hand stretched out to help the Rune to his feet, the fact that students were still around didn't seem to bother Enoch as he focused on his mentor.

"Up to joining me for lunch and some research at the library?" A study date of sorts.

Rune: "We'll see," Rune smiled. He wanted to see that same passion applied to every aspect of Enoch's life. He wondered if it would. They would both know soon enough.

The offered hand was taken, hauling himself back to his feet.

"Next time I won't be late, professor." But, moving on. He gestured down the hallway. "Would the library have old newspapers?" A glance down the hallway. German or not, this conversation wasn't for everyone. "Diana's clothes were out of date."

Enoch: Enoch grinned as he helped his mentor up on his feet.

"Good, because I will deduct points from your participation next time.”

The blonde led the way down the halls of the familiar building, his attention on the conversation as they weaved through the student bodies as they headed toward the library. “Yes, and they date back pretty far, just our luck.”

He would have appreciated being able to see Diana, but perhaps after his awakening, he’d be able to commune with the spirits. The thought of the fast-approaching weekend made his stomach do a nervous flip. He couldn’t help but worry about his awakening.

“We can start by the home address and go from there,” suggested Enoch as he turned to push open a set of doors, leading them out to a courtyard. The library was in another building across campus.

Rune: "I'm getting conflicting information," he sighed. "The newspaper says a haunting, that someone else's child was sick in the house, but it's clearly not Diana. I'm assuming a new family comes in and she gets upset. So I still need to know when she died. I can't find her sister without this."

He didn't belong here. As comforting as Enoch's presence could be, he felt like a fish out of water in a place like this. He suddenly missed the ocean.

Enoch: Quickened footsteps slowed as he listened to what information Rune had found. Well, that wasn’t promising. The usually chatty man was quiet as he considered what other avenue was available to them to figure out how to help the little girl.

“Let’s see what the database has at the library, and perhaps talking to the neighbors might give us more insight.”

Ever the optimistic. Enoch was very much a glass-half-full type because he was confident that this could be resolved with enough persistence and resources. Little did he know how Rune was actually feeling while being dragged across the campus.

Rune: "I think we're going to make the most progress door-to-door. The neighborhood is old." Which meant fewer fresh faces. People with a history on that street would more likely know the name.

At least the newspapers would give them better lies when they finally knocked on a few doors.

"How long have you been here?"

Enoch: It was beneficial to know that the neighborhood was old. Perhaps that meant someone had an idea of who Diana was and what happened to her family. But unlucky for Enoch, he wasn’t the most convincing person to approach people and ask questions. Rune had been the first one to give him the time of day.

This time, it would be different.

“Here at the university? Or in England?”

Rune: "Are you not from England?" It hadn't occurred to him that would be the case. The accents in this city varied.

Enoch: "I am. Born and raised English by my grandfather, though I think my father was German. I never got to meet him."

As they talked, Enoch's pace slowed down as they approached the library and he moved forward to hold the door open, following Rune inside.

Rune: "So then, the university," he was whispering before they even crossed the threshold.

Enoch: " Half a year, and it's been ok so far. I have my own lab space and I'm already teaching a course. I can't complain," he whispered back as they entered the library.

Inside, it would become obvious that Enoch knew his way around because he weaved them deeper towards the back where he knew the documents, journals, and newspapers were kept. They could start there and then visit the neighborhood.

"Why?"

Rune: "I'm trying to get to know you." Rune tried to keep his smile to himself, keep his face and tone neutral, but there was a small fern curl to the corner of his mouth.

Enoch: Enoch's gaze became half-lidded as he gave the other a sideways glance, not buying it, especially after seeing that shadow of a smile on his lips.

"Uh-huh."

Though Enoch's own smile gave him away as they reached the back where it smelled of old newspapers and magazines.

"What else do you want to know about me?" The scholar asked, his back turned to the mage as he opened a cabinet to rifle through, looking for the address of the old house.

Rune: The scent had hardly changed to Rune's nose. Ink and leather and old books were already associated with Enoch. It was pleasant, and his secret.

He would need to ask the nearest librarian about some microfilms, but in the meantime, "Tell me more about your imaginary friend."

Enoch: "Mm, Raine?" Enoch asked over his shoulder as he flipped through the catalog, looking for the street name.

"The last time I thought about him was when I was little. He was a boy about my age, looked exactly like me, but he was very quiet."

Perhaps a reflection on how the scholar had been brought up by his grandfather.

"Hide and seek was one our favorite games, but sometimes..." His voice drifted as he thought back on those memories, remembering the feeling of fear but never associating the reason as to why.

"But he was always there with me."

Through the good times and the not-so-good times. Silently watching.

Rune: The story hadn't changed, to his memory. Much had been on his mind since meeting Enoch, but all of it began and ended with the scholar.

"Playing hide and seek with your Avatar, always knows where you are," he smiled earnestly. "That's new."

Enoch: "Is it?"

Enoch stopped mid-rifling through the cabinet to look over his shoulder at the brunette. But that smile eased his worry, quietly admiring how charming Rune could be.

"So it's my avatar that will give me my powers?" Something like that, right?

Pecan Circle...Pickett Court. Piedmont... Plum Street. Plundell Street.

"Aha!"

The little catalog card was plucked out with a series of numbers that referred to news articles associated with it. Enoch held the card out for Rune to hold as he moved to now shift through the stacks of papers.

"What does it say?"

Rune: "It's - yes." There was no need to elaborate when Enoch had a better gist than he had at his age.

"I need a microscope," Rune turned, looking for the microfiche he'd heard about. Science and technology didn't excite him very often, but this, yes, brought out the child in him.

Enoch: “Microscope?”

He wasn’t sure if that was exactly what Rune needed, but he had a general idea.

“Do you mean microfilm?” he asked, which was the next step, and Enoch was already moving towards where the machines were stationed, eager to help Rune on this quest.

Enoch hadn’t seen that look of excitement on Rune’s face before, but it was a sight he found himself relishing.

“Are you familiar with it?” he asked as he led them deeper into the research section and stopped, nodding to the three machines that sat next to each other.

Rune: "The machine for the microfilm," so, yes. Enoch was followed, holding the film up to the warm light, fascinated by such a tiny thing.

"I've only read about them," he confessed, feeling rather sheepish to be this interested in something when he had a job to do, but, this was part of the job, so he might have a little leeway.

Enoch: Enoch nodded. He was slightly familiar with operating the machine only because he had used it before. But he wasn’t shy about calling for assistance, only because he didn’t want to be responsible for accidentally breaking the thing.

“Well, I’m more than happy to show you around to all the advances the school has to offer,” he teased with a grin, though there was truth behind his words.

It was true; while Rune was willing to teach the scholar all about magic, he was willing to repay the favor in his own way.

“So, what do you know about them?”

Enoch asked gently as he reached to take the film from Rune, coaxing him to peer over his shoulder as he figured out how to feed it into the contraption.

Rune: "A means of preservation. We're living in a time of progress." However, he had a healthy apprehension in predicting how far technology would go. Some mages were already in on jokes he couldn't yet fathom. Fucking Cultists.

"I think it goes through here. It should show on the screen." But what he wasn't telling Enoch was the little silk-thin strands he was seeing connecting the dots for him.

Enoch: “And it’s about to boom; I can feel it.”

It was exciting to be on the cusp of a breakthrough, especially with all the exciting research coming out of the different universities.

Enoch leaned over the machine with the film, nodding as Rune correctly guided him to where to put things and remembering what he had done before.

“And with that…”

Click. They had pictures!

“Aha!”

Enoch grinned triumphantly as he scooted around Rune to lean in and read over the enlarged images.

“Beautiful. Alright…now let’s work.”

Rune: Finally. As much as he wanted to play with the instrument, work came first. Technically, they could do both. Sliding one article across the other in the obituaries. One death after another for what felt like an hour. So far, he'd seen one other thread - unrelated to his duty, but where, he suspected, a thread of a killer head to a victim. Another job for another day, perhaps.

At last.

"There," he pointed, careful not to touch. "Diana Davies. That's her. Pneumonia."

Enoch: Enoch was a proponent of doing both. It’s how he felt whenever he was working in his lab. Most of the time, his research didn't feel like work when he was trying to find the answer to his questions. And so far, Rune’s blood didn’t provide anything out of the extraordinary. Maybe he was right; everyone was capable of magic. They had just forgotten.

The scholar let Rune take the driving seat, and he stationed himself on the mage’s right side, leaning over his shoulder to watch as the obituaries scrolled past. He missed that thread, but he did spot Diana’s name at the same time.

“Ah, yes!”

A hand landed on the other’s shoulder as the blonde leaned in.

“Was she survived by any family?” he mused quietly as he continued to read the article.

Rune: In that moment, nothing spurred his heart but the thrill of investigation - he would realize later, that hand had added a little something.

How far back had they gone before finally finding their target?

"Mother, father - says their youngest, Samantha, was still recovering. This was - This was almost twenty years ago." Her little cream-colored dress made sense, now. Just noticeably outdated, if one were paying attention to trends. Alas, nothing about the family moving homes. He hadn't expected an obituary to go into too much detail.

"Davies. Davies. We have something to work with."

Enoch: “Maybe the sister is still alive. How old did you say Diana looked?”

Some basic math would tell him that the sister would probably be in her early to mid-twenties. Even the parents could still be alive, but that was a tinge too optimistic.

The obituary was a great score, and it provided enough leads for them to start talking to the neighbors and find out what had happened to the family.

“And you were being doubtful,” grinned the scholar as he gave a gentle squeeze to Rune’s shoulder before he dropped his hand away.

“We could grab a bite to eat on the way back to the house. Personally, I’m starving.”

Rune: "Five, six." But, they no longer needed to guess. According to the article, she had died a month shy of her birthday.

Rune just smiled, carefully pulling the microfilm back from the machine.

"You have a place in mind?" That was becoming their ritual, he realized, and didn't mind. Secretly, he enjoyed that extra unnecessary time. Bonding, people called it.

Enoch: "Then we may be in luck!" And wasn't that one of the mage's feats?

Enoch stepped back, watching as the microfilm was taken out and he started back towards the cabinet he had collected it from.

"I recently found this Polish shop, and I very much enjoyed their perogies. I'll even consider sharing," grinned Enoch.

And it very much was becoming their little tradition and even something Enoch was fond of. There was something to be said about sharing a meal, especially with someone whose company you enjoyed.

"It's on the way."

And with that, the blonde would lead the way back out of the library and towards Plundell Street with a detour to the perogies shop.

#plundell street #rune #enoch #whisperedfromthevoid

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halcyonglimpses · 6 months

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New Ashra

"I have been to Teralis!

I have walked the streets of the Imperial city from sunless depths to glittering spires. I have strode from the great walls that hold back the sea to the gardens of the palace. I have fed their beggars and feasted with their lords, prayed with the ten arch priests and studied with their scholars. So it is that I tell you here, now, today that they will not stop.

They will not relent. They will not surrender one inch of ground not soaked in blood. They hunger for the land we have carved for ourselves. They crave the nation we call their own. The mourn the loss of the people who once toiled under their yoke.

It is for us to deny them. To stand against them. To safeguard all that we have achieved. New Ashra belongs to us, to we who have bled for her freedom. It is Ours!"

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lesfeldickbiblestudy · 11 months

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Through the Bible with Les Feldick LESSON 1 * PART 1 * BOOK 78 CHRIST AS THE ROCK OF SCRIPTURE Various Scriptures Okay, it’s good to see everybody in this afternoon. For those of you joining us on television, again we want to thank you for joining us. We have just come back from a rather long trip. And you know, the thing that just rings in our ears when we get home is the word “every.” They all say the same thing – we watch you every morning. Well, you know we love to hear that. And a couple right here just told us the same thing. That tells us that there’s a hunger. You’re not watching it just to kill half an hour from time-to-time, but to really get hooked on the Word of God. And as one of my listeners I was talking to last night said, “I never had an interest in this before, but now I just can’t get enough.” Well, that’s as it should be. You know, just as soon as that new baby is born, it starts crying. What triggers the cry? Hunger. They want to be fed. And that’s the way it should be with a new believer. So those of you out in television, again, we just thank you for your response. We thank you for your kind letters and your financial help and everything that makes this possible. All right, we’re going to start a new book today. It is book number 78. We finished our review of Genesis to Revelation in the last taping. I’m going to be looking at something new today. We’re going to look at the many times in Scripture that Jesus Christ is referred to as the Rock or the Stone. And there’s a lot of confusion of that simply because of one verse. The studio audience already has it, so those of you in television go with us to Matthew chapter 16. We’re going to drop in at verse 13.�� These are verses that we’ve used many times, but we’re going to comment when we get down to verse 18. Matthew 16:13-17 “When Jesus came into the borders of Caesarea Philippi, (up there in Northern Israel) he asked his disciples (the Twelve), saying, Whom do men say that I the Son of man am? 14. And they said, Some say that thou art John the Baptist: some, Elijah; and others, Jeremiah, or one of the prophets. 15. He saith unto them, But whom say ye that I am? 16. And Simon Peter answered and said, Thou art the Christ, the Son of the living God. 17. And Jesus answered and said unto him, Blessed art thou, Simon Bar-jona: for flesh and blood hath not revealed it unto thee, but my Father who is in heaven.” Which, of course, is the normal way of enlightening people. Peter isn’t the first nor the last. Now here it comes in verse 18. Jesus is speaking. Matthew 16:18 “And I say unto thee, That thou art Peter, and upon this rock I will build my church; (And remember, the word is always ecclesia, so it was a called-out assembly. Not necessarily the Body of Christ Church, but it would be a Jewish called-out assembly.) and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it.” I’m not a Greek scholar, but I went into some of my Greek dictionaries and I didn’t find anything that I hadn’t heard before. And that is that there’s a play on words here. They’re pretty much the same—the Rock or Stone. One of the Hebrew words, or the Greek, is Cephas—from which we get Peter’s other name—which is the word for rock or stone. The only difference is that when He says, “Thou art Peter,” it’s in the feminine, if I’ve got it right. But when He speaks of the other, “upon this rock,” then it’s masculine. Then I went to a couple of the other commentaries and they both maintain that, yes, indeed, He was speaking to Peter as the “little stone,” but upon Himself as “the Rock, I will build my church.” And then I was really shocked when I got into Augustine. You know I’ve been rather critical of Augustine, because after all he became the father of Roman Catholicism. Yet even Augustine maintained that the Rock on which Christ was speaking was Himself—not Peter, but Himself. Of course, we are all aware that Roman Catholicism stresses the fact that that’s why Peter became the first pope, because of this statement right here.

But the Roman Catholics aren’t alone. There are a lot of other Protestant groups that adhere to the same thing. That when Jesus said “upon this rock,” He was speaking of Peter. And I’m going to show, hopefully from Scripture, contrary to the tradition of Christendom, that the Rock in Scripture is always Jesus Christ. He is the Rock. He is the Stone! We’re going to chase them down and see if we can make sense. Now, before we go back and look up our Old Testament reference to that, I want you to go ahead with me to Romans chapter 15. I think it’s either verse 3 or 4—verse 4. This is the basis for our study today. We’re going to go back to the Old Testament, and we’re going to look at these terms concerning Christ as the Rock or the Stone, because Paul writes and tells us that: Romans 15:4a “For whatsoever thing were written aforetime (in other words, back in the Old Testament) were written for our learning,…” And you know I’m always stressing there’s a big difference between learning and doctrine. Doctrine is that which influences our behavior. Doctrine is what brings us to salvation. But learning is just simply background. So all these Old Testament Scriptures are for background more than they are for our doctrine. In the Old Testament we get a good understanding of how God has worked from the very onset of the human experience. All right, reading on: Romans 15:4b “…were written for our learning, that we through patience and comfort of the scriptures might have hope.” Now, we’re going to go back to Exodus. As you turn back to Exodus, I want you to be thinking of one or two instances in the Old Testament where that is so apropos. The first one that always comes to my mind is Joseph. Now there was Joseph, the favored son, hated by the brethren. And because of their hatred, they sold him into slavery, and where did he end up? Down in Egypt! And another unfortunate situation was in the house of Potiphar when Potiphar’s wife accused Joseph of trying to assault her, and he was consequently thrown into prison. And if I’ve got my timing right, the poor guy must have been in prison about 10 years. Did God ever give up on him? Did God forget about him? Why, no! So it tells us—no matter how tough things may get, no matter how deep the valley we’re going through—God is there. And in His own time He’s going to bring us out of it, even as He did Joseph. Well, I think that’s what Paul refers to then. That we study and learn from these Old Testament Scriptures so that we, too, may have the patience to wait on God—knowing that in His own time He’s going to bring us through to the fruition of everything. All right, now one of the first instances in Scripture where we have Christ as the Rock is here in Exodus chapter 17. Of course, Israel is out there on the desert. Not a very pleasant place to be in the Middle East. And how much of our everyday resources are on the desert? None. There’s nothing. You know, the best time I can picture the desert is, if any of you went with us, when we went down to Petra. From Amman all the way down to Petra is an all day drive in that bus, and it’s just nothing but flat gravel, nothing even for an animal to eat. There were a few camels out there. I don’t know whether they eat rocks or what! But that was the perfect picture of the desert. There’s nothing! Well, that’s where these Israelites are. They’re out there on the desert. You know, it just happened that Iris was going through some of her stuff yesterday and she came up with a little internet article that somebody sent me several years ago. I’m sure you’ve all seen it—where someone in our American Army took the time one day to put together the logistics that were necessary for Israel out there on the desert. I’m sure most of you have read it and seen it. And they were looking at the same figure that I have used over the years—three million people. I remember the first time I taught this, I used Dallas-Fort Worth as an example.

Because in the 1990 census, if I remember right, in Dallas-Fort Worth there were a little over three million people. So I used the example: can you imagine Dallas and Fort Worth moving out in mass and then ending out there on the desert with nothing of natural provision. They were totally dependent on God. Totally! But they were human, so what did they do? They griped. And they complained. And sometimes it got worse than others. And Moses said, “God, these are not my people. I didn’t conceive them. You can have them.” And God said, “No, they’re not Mine. They’re yours.” But nevertheless, get the picture? The poor people were out there on that flat desert living in their tents. I don’t image they even had the wherewithal for a pick-up basketball game or a softball game. What did the poor people do for diversion? And that’s why things got pretty difficult. But nevertheless, the Nation of Israel is out there completely dependent on their God. Now what are we to learn from that? Well, that’s where we are. We are totally dependent. We can’t do anything on our own, because as soon as a believer thinks he can do it on his own, he’s in trouble. So here’s one of the lessons that we learn from this – that as Israel was totally dependent on their miracle-working God, so we have to be dependent day by day. Now, when I say miracle-working—as I was going over all this the last few weeks—has there ever been a greater miracle than God moving a Nation of three to five million people out of Egypt, across the Red Sea, out onto the desert, and taking care of them for forty years? What a miracle! But anyway, imagine how many millions of gallons of water it took every day just for their routine use? Cooking and bathing and what have you. And the car loads of wood that it would take for their fires! And we know they cooked the manna. They fried it. They boiled it and everything, so they had to have fires. This article, that I forgot to bring today, went through all the humongous amounts of material that those three million people needed—not just for a day or two, not just for a week of campout, but for forty years. And yet God provided. Well, that brings us all the way up to Exodus 17. Again, I’m going to start at verse 1, because we’ve got plenty of time. Exodus 17:1-2 “And all the congregation of the children of Israel journeyed from the wilderness of Sin, after their journeys, according to the commandment of the LORD, (See, this is all under the Lord’s direction day-by-day.) and pitched in Rephidim: and there was no water for the people to drink. 2. Wherefore the people did chide (or began to complain) with Moses, and said, Give us water that we may drink. And Moses said unto them, Why chide ye with me? wherefore do ye tempt (test) the LORD?” Well, I don’t know what Moses expected them to do. You sure don’t get water on the desert. Exodus 17:3 “And the people thirsted there for water; and the people murmured against Moses, and said, Wherefore is this that thou hast brought us up out of Egypt, to kill us and our children and our cattle with thirst?” That’s the other thing I think a lot of time we forget. They didn’t just move out with humanity, but they had all their livestock. And it must have been tremendous numbers of it. Everything had to eat and drink. Now what I’m building on is the miraculousness of it all, and how God constantly supplied their need. All right, now just to show you how they complained, I think it’s in Numbers 11. Turn there with me. Numbers 11 and jump down to verse 4. Now, this was the attitude of these Israelites, I imagine, during the whole 40 years out there on that sandy desert. Numbers 11:4 “And the mixed multitude that was among them (Now, that was probably non-Israelites—maybe a few of the Egyptians. We don’t know.) fell a lusting: and the children of Israel also wept again, and said, Who shall give us flesh to eat?” Well, what have they been eating? Manna. The provided food, but they were getting sick and tired of manna.

They cooked it. They boiled it. They fried it. They baked it. And it was still manna. All right, so now they want flesh. Now look at verse 5. Now all we think of these Israelites is that they had been in absolute slavery. And slavery, we know, is never a very pleasant experience. That meant that from the time the sun came up in the morning until it set at night they were under the slave masters. But on the other hand, it wasn’t all bad, because look at the next verse. Numbers 11:5 “We remember the fish, which we did eat in Egypt freely; the cucumbers, and the melons, and the leaks, and the onions, and the garlick:” Isn’t that amazing? And you know what? That’s the favorite diet of a Jew today. My, our breakfasts over there when we go to Israel, that’s what it is. It is cucumbers and fish and you name it. It hasn’t changed. So, you see, we don’t want to blot out certain parts of these things and be overcome by this. Along with their slavery and the horrors of it, they still had the good things they were willing to eat. They had their fish and their vegetables, and they had plenty of water. They were up there in the richest area of Egypt. Now you want to remember, Goshen was the most productive part, agriculturally, of Egypt. So we know that these are not just so many empty words. They had the wherewithal to produce a lot of food. Now, as they’re out there on the desert, I think we can appreciate the fact that they were reminiscing. My goodness, back in Egypt, even though we did work all day, at least we could sit down and have a meal when we got home at night. We were always with plenty of water to drink, and here we are with nothing to eat except this manna and nothing to drink. There’s no water. Okay, now let’s move on. Exodus 17:4-5a “And Moses cried unto the LORD, saying, What shall I do unto this people? they be almost ready to stone me. 5. And the LORD said unto Moses, go on before the people, and take with thee of the elders of Israel; and thy rod,…” Now remember, that’s been an important thing from day one when Moses went back to Egypt with that shepherd’s rod. All right, He said to be sure you take your rod. Exodus 17:5b-6a “…take the rod, wherewith thou smotest the river, (Back there when he was in Egypt and he smote the Nile—and all the things that would happen when he would use that shepherd’s rod.) take in thine hand, and go. 6. Behold, I will stand before thee there upon the rock (There’s your word.) in Horeb;…” Now remember, that’s just the other name for Mount Sinai. Exodus 17:6b-7 “…and thou shalt smite the rock, and there shall come water out of it, that the people may drink. And Moses did so in the sight of the elders of Israel. 7. And he called the name of the place Massah and Meribah, because of the chiding of the children of Israel, and because they tempted (or tested) the LORD, saying, Is the LORD among us, or not?” Now it doesn’t say here, but in another account we have what came out—a dribble or a river? A river! A river of water coming out there on the blank desert out of this rock, which was sufficient for these millions of Israelites plus all their livestock. And what does that tell us? God provided all their needs. Well, what’s the lesson for us? We’re going to see it more distinctly when we get back up into Matthew, when the woman at the well said, “Give me of this water.” Well, what was Jesus talking about? The water of Life! And this was a picture of it. This was simply a symbolic picture of what Christ would be to His own of any period of time. So out came this river of water with which they were all satisfied. Now the next verse is the next step after salvation, for us even today. Things never change. Verse 8: Exodus 17:8a “Then came Amalek,...” Amalek, you remember, was one of the sons or grandsons of Esau, and they were arch-enemies of the Jews. They were their constant torment. So these tribes of these Amalekites, when they saw this river of water

out there in the desert, what do you suppose they did? Well, hey, they’re going to come and take their part. And as they did, of course, it caused a fight. So we have a war between these Israelites and the Amalekites. But what’s the spiritual lesson? Well, it’s the same way in the spiritual. Just as soon as we feast on salvation, what’s the first thing that comes in? Opposition from the devil and the evil part of the world. They taunt and they torment. So here’s the lesson. But when you go on, of course, then we see that Israel prevailed. But anyway, here is a perfect illustration. Now we’re going to go back to the New Testament for confirmation. Come back up to I Corinthians chapter 10, and see what Paul says concerning this Rock out there on the desert. This is where we learn – when you compare Scripture with Scripture. Otherwise you would never stop to think that just because Moses struck that rock that it was something special. But it was. And I’m going to let the Scripture tell you rather than myself. I Corinthians 10:1a “Moreover, brethren, I would not that ye should be ignorant, how that all our fathers (In other words, all of those Israelites that had come out of Egypt—three to five million of them.) were under the cloud,…” In other words, it was their shade for that desert heat during the day and it became a pillar of fire at night that protected them as well as gave them the light that they needed. I Corinthians 10:1b-2 “…they were all under the cloud, and all passed through the sea; (the Red Sea experience) 2. And were all baptized (Not the water baptism that Christendom thinks of, but they were placed by an act of God--) unto Moses (Or under Moses, or into Moses; however you want to put it. They were all placed.) in the cloud and in the sea;” As they came through—they were under God’s protective care. I Corinthians 10:3-4 “And did all eat the same spiritual food; (The manna. And then the experience that we just covered.) 4. And did all drink the same spiritual drink: for they drank of that spiritual Rock that followed them:(And now here it is.) and that Rock was (Who?) Christ.” Now, you see, that’s hard for our feeble little human minds to comprehend. That piece of rock out there on the desert, over there on the other side of the Red Sea—that was Christ? It’s what The Book says. And what did Moses do? He smote it. Well, what was the smiting a picture of? The Cross! When Christ was smitten for mankind, what did He become? He became that river of life-giving water. All the pictures and symbolisms fit. Everything from Genesis to Revelation fits. Here we have it as clear as language can make it. When Moses struck that rock with his rod, he was smiting the Christ of eternity, and out came the water. So here is another perfect example of how Christ is the all-sufficient Rock. He is the One that gives eternal life. He supplies all the needs of not only Israel, but the whole human race. It’s just a beautiful picture of symbolism, again, how that all these things are teaching us and preparing the Nation of Israel. Now, the point I want to make before we go any further, is that Israel is the primary recipient of the work and miraculousness of the Rock. We’re going to come later this afternoon to when Paul speaks of the foundation of the Church. But it won’t be a rock; it’s just going to be a foundation. But for Israel, all these references to the Rock as being Jesus Christ were predominately between God and Israel. Now maybe I can make one point on that. Turn ahead with me a little bit to I Peter chapter 2. I’m going to come to it a little later. But for now, just turn to I Peter chapter 2 and see how this is such an affinity between God and Israel—this role of the Rock and the Stone. I Peter chapter 2 and dropping all the way down to verse 8. I Peter 2:8-9a “And a stone of stumbling, and a rock of offence, even to them who stumble at the word, being disobedient: whereunto also they were appointed.

(But now verse 9, here’s where I really want to come in.) 9. But ye (These Jews to whom Peter is writing. And remember, Peter is writing to Jews. He’s writing to those who are scattered. All right, he says--) are a chosen generation, a royal priesthood, an holy (or set apart) nation,...” You see, none of that applies to the Church like most people like to think. This is Jewish language. They are the chosen Nation. They are the favored ones. They’re the peculiar people. They are the priestly nation. I Peter 2:9b “…that ye should show forth the praises of him who hath called you out of darkness into his marvelous light:” Well, yes, in a degree that applies to us as believers, but this is all primarily God dealing with His chosen people. They were the ones who were the Holy Priesthood. Remember way back in Exodus, we used it over and over, “and you shall be unto me a kingdom of priests.” Well, you see, the Scripture never tells you and me that in the Body of Christ. But Christendom as a whole can’t separate all this and makes the mistake of telling us this all belongs to us.

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