Vaughn made his way to the Temple. People had gathered at the hill’s base and up the path itself. Vaughn carefully weaved his way through the crowd of people, avoiding causing any nasty fall. Vaughn approached the two guards protecting the courtyard and temple proper from being flooded with pilgrims. They raised their staffs upon glancing at him. Unlit torches lined the stone patio behind the temple leading up to the cliff itself. At the edge was a narrow, yet tall tree. It shot out of the ground like a stalk of a flower, its roots not visible at the surface. Its branches funneled from top of the tree brace, leaves all pointing skywards. At the tips of the branches hung budding flowers that would bloom at the end of the festival. They always did. In front of the tree stood the Priestess, Senga, and Rhia.

"Altar Keeper,” said the Priestess, “I’m glad you could make it on time for once. I knew I could count on you.”

“Thank you, Priestess,” said Vaughn as a small grin formed on his face.

“Prepare the torches,” commanded the Priestess.

Vaughn nodded and went inside the temple. He grabbed a torch from the wall and went outside. Vaughn lit each of the torches and returned the temple torch in its proper location. After the torches were lit, Vaughn took his place behind Senga and Rhia. Rhia handed Vaughn the ceremonial bowl and Senga pulled a small clay jar from her satchel. She opened the jar and poured the mixture of ground up herbs and rocks into the bowl. Next she pulled the foot of the rabbit Vaughn had caught earlier that morning from her satchel and placed it into the bowl as well. Senga and Rhia then took their place behind the Priestess, who stood at the edge of the cliff above the pilgrims gracing Penmawr.

“Ladies and men,” proclaimed the Priestess, “Tonight we continue the eternal cycle of birth, death, and rebirth. Long ago Drustan and Eselda…”

Vaughn tuned out the Priestess’ speech. He heard that same speech twice a year every year. Once in the Spring and then again in autumn. Even at funerals she would repeat the speech about the earth and water and how they are what living things are made of, they are not life – the breath of Laima is. The Priestess loved to go on and on about Laima and how she saved the people from death after the Great Dying.

What a bunch of nonsense, Vaughn thought. Birth and death are natural phenomenon, not the work of some invisible being in the sky who never listen to the prayers of the masses. We get it, mom, oh I’m sorry, ‘Priestess’! Men are terrible people who need to be managed by women. No one makes that point clearer than you. Vaughn looked down at the crowd below. Towards the front of the crowd Vaughn saw Gamila and Joiyan. He could see the boredom in Joiyan’s eyes that was also present in most people below. Vaughn smiled at the fact that he wasn’t the only one bored by the Priestess’ ramblings. But in Gamila’s eyes Vaughn saw the exact opposite – genuine fascination with the Priestess’ speech.

“… and that is why we ask for Laima to bless us with her breath and rejuvenate the land.” The Priestess finally finished her speech.

Senga grabbed a scroll from her satchel and handed it to the Priestess. She unraveled the scroll and read the prayer off. As she did, the congregation below and behind, Senga, Rhia, and Vaughn repeated after the Priestess. The chant ended and the Priestess and diviners walked to the tree. Senga put away the scroll and grabbed an ornate dagger from her bag. The trio began a chant in a language long since lost to the currents of time. Vaughn placed the bowl in beneath their arms. Once the chant was finished the Priestess took the knife and slashed the palm of her left hand and let the drops of blood flow into the bowl. Senga and Rhia followed suit, receiving the knife and producing gashes on their left hands as the bowl filled more with blood. Senga grabbed bandages for her and the other women from the bag.

Once they had applied the bandages to their hands, Vaughn handed the bowl to the Priestess, who poured some of the blood on the tree’s base. The bowl was then returned to Vaughn. Rhia took the knife and stripped a small piece of bark from the tree, placing it in the bowl. The four formed a procession and departed from the tree, the Priestess leading them while Vaughn held the rear. Their destination was the unlit bonfire. Rhia and Senga each grabbed one of the patio torches on their way down. They walked down the pilgrim-lined path, every one of whom bowed their heads as the procession passed. They stopped in front of the tower of logs stacked 8 feet high. Vaughn handed the Priestess the bowl and left for the sidelines. Senga and Rhia lit the fire with their torches. Everyone stood silent as the bonfire consumed its way through kindling and onto the wood itself. Once flames were visible, the Priestess poured the contents of the bowl onto the bonfire, temporarily making the flames green.

“Praise be to Laima!” announced the Priestess to the crowd.

“Praise be to Laima!” repeated the crowd.

The Priestess raised her hands high. “I, Priestess Enid of Clan Ufoch, proclaim the festival to be open!”

The crowd cheered and dispersed. Some remained around the bonfire while others left to the market stalls or to a clearing near the storehouse where a long table had been erected. The Priestess, Senga, Rhia, and Vaughn were among those who remained at the bonfire. Vaughn hesitantly rejoined the trio. He didn’t know if the Priestess was ready for him yet. When she didn’t stop him at first glance, Vaughn kept going until he was in the group.

“Great job, everyone,” said the Priestess. “Laima will be pleased for sure. Three days from now the flowers on the Tree of Life will bloom and soon life shall return to the land.”

“I am hungry,” said Senga. “I will join see you all at the feast.” She glanced at Vaughn. “Well, most everyone.”

“There’s no need to run ahead, Diviner Senga,” said the Priestess. “We’ll go together. Altar Keeper, guard the fire until the first shift of Fire Watchers shows up. Then clean this bowl and return it to the temple.”

"Yes Priestess.”

“Good luck, Vaughn,” said Rhia as she kissed him on the cheek. “I’ll see you later.”

"Stay strong, Altar Keeper,” said Senga.

            The trio walked away. Only a few steps away from Vaughn, the Priestess turned around. “Alta- I mean, Vaughn,” said the Priestess. “You did a great job. Thank you for making me a proud mother this evening.”

“You’re welcome, mom,” said Vaughn.

“Don’t push it, Altar Keeper,” said the Priestess.

The trio continued their journey, leaving Vaughn alone to guard the bonfire. The flames had since reached the top of the stack of logs. All around Vaughn people played games and chatted. His responsibilities as fire watcher were pretty straightforward – make sure the fire did not go out and that no one got too close to the flames. A few people sat at the tables conversing or playing checkers, but most were not in the commons, off enjoying the feast or doing something else like changing into something more festive, so Vaughn just had to stand around until his replacements showed up.

Half an hour later a trio of guys in plaid kilts and bead necklaces showed up. Vaughn did not recognize any of them.

“Hello Altar Keeper,” said the shortest of the group. “My name is Glynn. We are here to relieve you of duty.”

“Thank you, Glynn,” said Vaughn. “Stay vigilant.”

Vaughn grabbed the ceremonial bowl and ascended the hill. The pilgrims gone, the path was empty once more. When Vaughn reached the top of the hill the guards were nowhere to be seen.

Vaughn groaned. Great. Now I have to do their job for them. And I'll probably be blamed somehow for their absence, too.

He trudged up the hill and went into the storage shed and grabbed the pitcher of water on the bottom shelf. He took it outside and poured the water into the bowl and dumping it. He inspected the bowl; it still wasn’t clean. Vaughn repeated the process, swishing the water filled bowl for good measure. It still wasn’t clean. Vaugh repeated it for a third time. The bowl was finally clean. He placed the bowl and pitcher in their proper places and left the storage shed.

Vaughn walked to the temple. If he had to wait for the guards, why not do it indoors? He entered the temple and stopped himself in the entrance. In front of the altar lay the guards, their long bangs somewhat blown to the side by their snoring. Behind the altar was Gamila.

Vaughn ran up to Gamila. “What are you doing here? The Temple is closed to visitors at night.”

Gamila groaned. “I was incredibly bored at that feast. No one bothered to talk to me, not even my compatriots, and all they had to eat was this rabbit stew with barely any rabbit in it, fish eggs, and the thinnest slices of stale fruit bread I’ve ever seen!”

“Yeah, sorry about that. We’ve been in a bit of a drou… Wait a minute! What are you doing up here?”

“I just informed you why I came here,” said Gamila. “I was bored.”

“Not why. How. How are you up here? Did you knock out those guards?” Vaughn nervously took a step back from her.

“There’s no need to cower and flee,” said Gamila. “I’m not going to hurt you. Those guards were passed out when I got here. My guess is they had too much to drink after you all left. Just look at them. They are the standard definition of drunks.”

Vaughn peered over the altar. There was a small open pot filled with mead in between the two temple guards and a trail of spilled liquid running down their armor.

Shit! The Priestess would kill me if this spills on the floor. Vaughn picked up the open jar and set it on the altar. Vaughn looked back at Gamila.

“If you’re so bored then why didn’t you go back to your campsite for a bit or go explore the non-restricted parts of Penmawr?”

“I still have to show you something, silly!” Gamila let out a chant in a language that Vaughn could not decipher. Then she vanished in an instant.

Vaughn’s mouth hung agape. His mind was racing with thoughts and scenarios as to how she vanished until it just overloaded. Magic wasn’t real. All the stuff he had seen the Priestess do over the years and claim to be magic was easily debunked. But this? Nothing logical could explain it except for magic and Vaughn’s mind wasn’t ready to accept that. Vaughn’s mind shut down, the last conscious thought being the feeling of hitting his head on the stone floors of the temple.