Authors note: this is a continuation of the "A Trip to Celtic Corner" story, if you havnt read it yet, please do so. Thank you.
Martin left the Celtic Corner with his parcels and headed to his best friend and mentors, Jessie, place. It was a short walk from the store and Martin wanted to enjoy the cool October afternoon.
He felt a sense of excitement and wonder as he walked down the leaf strewn street. The trees begining to shed their folaige, the bright reds and oranges pooping out on a slightly dreary day.
Storm clouds had rolled in around noon, and after spending several hours perusing the Corners many secrets, Martin looked up at the sky and hoped the rain would hold off till the ritual was done.
Martin quicky arrived at a large brick home, draped in ivy with an old willow tree standing sentry in the front yard, the home of his best friend and mentors, Jessie Drake.
He walked up the walk as Jessie was locking up her front door. She turns and smiles, then picked up a box of items in the doorstep. "Ah, perfect time Marty, hopefully this storm will hold off till our task is done." She glances at the box Martin is carrying and nods approval. "I see uve done some shopping? Things for tonight I guess??"
Martin and Jessie talk for a few minutes, making sure they had everything they needed: candles for focus, salt for purification and grounding, incense to clear the air, and an offering for those they planed to , as a thank u for coming. Everything was set, and so they headed off.
It took about half an hour by car to reach the small town in which Martin spent most of his early life and where, in a small cemetery near the sea, his mother was layed to rest. For it was here that Martin and Jessie were going to perform a very personal ritual, one to and honor the dead.
They arrived just after sundown, as the sun light up the sky in deep purples and reds, and they quickly made their way through the gate, the storm clouds looming ever closer, threatening to rain out tonights ritual plans.
It didn't take Martin long to find his mother's stone. Her visited here often over the years, and as he stepped close, he felt a shiver course through his core, and he saw a figure standing just out of the corner of his eye, but when he glanced that way, there was noone there. He smiled a knowing smile, his mother had arrived be they had and it was nice.
Jessie and Martin set up their area. Cleansing the space, setting out the candles that would be the focus of the ritual. Mentally preparing for the ritual to come. When everything was ready, Jessie showed Martin the basic steps, then left him to meditate an commune with his mother, taking her own place nearby, not to be a disturbance, but there just in case Martin needed her.
Martin took up the white candle, holding it in his hands, he visualizes the life that he ed with his mother. The joys and the sorrows, the laughter and the tears, allowing his emotions to flow through him, but not to be swept away by them. He then set the candle down and lit it, ing his mother as she was in life.
He then took up the black candle and held It in his hands, letting the memories of her ing flow through him. The pain of loss, the feeling so alone and lost, adrift and afraid. It was harder this time, but he allowed the emotions to flow through him, visibly shaken by the intensity, letting the tears flow freely, but again, not letting himself be swept away. He then set the candle down and lit it, ing that even though she had ed, she lived on in his heart and mind.
Lastly, he picked up the Jasmine scented candle, inhaling the fragrance, brought back more memories, things he thought long forgotten. Memories of home.
He set the candle down and lit it, he then got comfortable and began to control his breathing, slowly allowing himself to drop into a meditative state. Peace and calm draped over him like a warm blanket and he felt at home.
As Martin sat there quietly, trying to quiet his racing thoughts, he begins to hear whispered words all around him. He tries to block them out through ground and shielding techniques that Jessie had taught him, but to no avail. Finally in frustration, Martin opens his eyes and starts in shock. He is no longer alone.
He finds himself sitting in the center of a circle of grave stones, a lightning storm flashes overhead. He can feel the hairs on his arms raise from the electricity in the air, and before him sit a cloaked and hooded figure. Someone that he had never seen before.
The person was dressed in dark browns and greens, the hood of the cloak obscuring it's face with shadows. But Martin could make out glimpses of a white, almost bone like, countence and he definitely couldn't miss the pair of antlers protruding from beneth the hood. He could feel the eyes of the figure on him and he felt very uncomfortable by its presence.
As Martin stared in shock, the figure pulled back it's hood, revealing a bone mask with the antlers of a deer , being the source of the unusual face. They then reach up and removed the mask, revealing the face of a woman. Someone that Martin didn't recognize.
The woman smiled, sending a shock of recognition through his very core, in that smile, he saw his mother, but he knew this woman wasn't his mother. But there was definitly a connection.
"My dear child," the woman spoke with a lilting accent that wasn't quite Gaelic, "u have come to this place to honor the dead, and as one who walked with u mother for years, long before u were born, I find joy in the fact that u carry on her legacy" She gently reached out her hand and stroked Martins cheek, as memories that Martin thought long forgotten flow back to him. "I give u this gift, that even though it mother has already ed beyond the veil, memory will keep her alive in ur heart."
Tears stream down Martins face as the figure continues. "You have a special gift. One that your mother shared. And as I did for her, I offer you. Training. To learn to control and use your gift. It is up to you." The figure removed her hand but the memories stayed clear. A true gift from the mysterious stranger.
Martin sat there in shock, but finally found his voice "Who are you?" He stammered. And the figure smiled a knowing smile "I have been known by many names over the centuries, but you may call me Morgan if you like. It was a name your mother gave me."
Morgan then stood and offered a hand to Martin "Come, we have much to discuss and my time is short, the storm is coming." They walked among the tombstones for what seemed like hours, talking of the past, of Martins life, and of what Morgan hoped for him for his future. But to soon, Morgan ends their walk "I must go now. I'll be watching. And when your ready, your training can begin" and with that she turns and walks into the gathering mist and is gone.
Martin opens his eyes as a crash of thunder rumbles overhead and drops of rain begin to fall. Jessie is quickly gathering all their items and looks back at him. "It's time to go, the storm is coming" early echoing the very words Morgan had spoken, sending a chill down Martins spine.
They quickly gathered all the items and headed back to the car. Martin felt the need to share what had happened, but also hesitant, so he kept his encounter to himself. And as he headed back to his car, in front of Celtic Corner, the fortold storm broke open the heavens, and a cold autumn rain began to fall.
What awaits Martin in this next journey? Only time will tell.
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