A Celtic Country: 1 of 3, #1

By Delenn Harper

In a world where the Celts did not lose to the Romans, nowadays but well hidden, there are still druids and their schools in Europe. In Paris, Lania, 27 years old, is lost in her life, afraid of men and society. She observes her life as a city girl wondering where her childhood dreams and the magic that surrounds her have gone. But Avalonia, the school of the Priestesses of Avalon, had not forgotten her. She decided to follow this feminine spirituality where she thought she would study the Universe and its mysteries, but she would heal much deeper wounds. For her, it all begins now. Her life will be transformed by this journey, in the middle of Europe, at the end of the world.

In this modern initiatory tale, in three volumes that change like the seasons, follow the peregrinations of a young Parisian girl as she learns the practice of the sacred feminine...

• Language: English
• Publisher: BadPress
• Release date: Mar 1, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393270836

Book preview

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Lania: daughter of Katell of the Tudwall clan of Armoric

Luam: son of Meriadoc, student in Avalonia

Helori: Head of Bangor House

Cierdwyn: Old Priestess, Head of House of the House of Priestesses

Niam: Director of Avalonia

Ellylw: Priestess of Mona, Professor of Stories and Tales

Tamara: Cornish student in Avalonia

Gairech: Irish student in Avalonia

Deirdre: Irish student in Avalonia

Ailsa: Scottish student in Avalonia

Tifenn: cousin of Lania

Guilhem: cousin of Lania, twin brother of Iollan

Iollan: cousin of Lania, twin brother of Guilhem

Howel: Lania's uncle

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Britonnia: Name of Celtic territory

Briton, ne: inhabitants of Britonnia

Avalonia: School of the Summer Country

Bangor: College of Druids

Llydaw: Welsh name of Little Brittany

Breizh: Armorican Brittany

Alba / Scotie: Scotland

Kernow: Cornwall

Eire / Erin: Ireland

Cymru / Gwynedd: Wales

Mannin: Isle of Man

Galiza: Galicia

Autumn is spring of winter.

Henri from Toulouse-Lautrec

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She had been brought to the edge of the forest, and then into a dark, round room, where in the middle was a campfire that was stubbornly trying to light up the faces of her kidnappers. The smoky air stung her eyes and gave off an unknown smell, but she easily recognized the place as the Rouets camp. The meeting place had been decorated for the occasion but was still recognizable because she went there every time with her cousin. The head of the group questioned Lania with these terms.

The blood of Brittany has flowed in your veins for many generations young Lania, he began. 

He was silent and left the words to fall to the floor in a shadow that was behind the bulk of the group. His deep voice began again:

You must know that Brittany takes hereditary from the women of our country and therefore of their blood. That's why you're here at this early hour. Do you know what dawn means?

No, well, yes. Dawn is when the sun comes up.

He nodded and continued.

Dawn is the beginning. The beginning of the day and the beginning of life. Dawn brings millions of possibilities that are open to us. Dawn is the promise of a new day. 

He stopped, advanced towards her, and looked at her.

You are here, to promise your life a new day, a new possibility. We are born in Brittany, but to become it completely we must choose to be or not to be it. Do you understand?

Yes, I think, she answered shyly.

So, Lania, daughter of Katell of the Tudwall clan, like your mother and your grandmother before you, are you ready to serve Brittany, your country, and your land like your life? 

Lania was looking at the person next to her anxiously to see if it was time to answer, as no one had warned her of anything.

I'm ready and I promise, she heard herself say in a quiet voice that was more than a little restless. So little Lania, as they called her, suddenly felt grand and responsible, as after having passed a difficult ordeal. 

As far back as she could remember, Lania loved her country and her language. She was not of pure blood, but Lania was Breton through her mother and because of this she could never doubt her Bretonness. She had been told that she belonged to Brittany and she believed it, because on this very day of her seventh birthday, like all the other girls of her clan, as it has always been in Breton history, she was taken to the Heads. In this past, in the universe where she grew up, druids, dolmens, fairies, and korrigans were part of the national heritage, the collective unconscious, the eternal soul of a country that shared the same soil and nourished its inhabitants. The grand characters were of those myths that were told to the children, to revive the grandeur of a past nation, in the eyes of the heirs and the heart of the parents. 

As a child, she had been told that there was a time when the Celtic nation was only one. Of Brittany, Small and Large, a single continent, a single state where the same language roamed the country. Nowadays, the continent had been separated in two, the Celtic-speaking Brittany had been Frenchized since, but according to the elders, on the other side of the sea still existed this idealistic nation. Some spoke of Britonnia as pagan heaven. Others preferred to mention it as the Celtic nation. Lania did not know how to name it, all she knew was that in this reunited kingdom, the druids had schools to study and teach their ever-growing students. In her eyes, it was a strange country, foreign in some ways to its Breton customs too sterilized by the official religion of a dominant French central power. Too many years had separated the two continents, brothers and since, from their beliefs, there remained in Britain only patriotic habits to the first forgotten meaning. 

As a child, she had been told that on the other side of the sea, in this country, the inhabitants worshipped the Mother of the Gods and worshipped the earth that supported them, associating her with their Mother. This land, for them, was the most sacred thing to serve and protect. Lania had also been told that in this country people loved the land and its fruits, and here, everything that was getting older was gaining value. Of all this, only the sea breeze and the seagulls had informed her. Of all this, she had never seen the reality until this precise morning of her infancy, or she was just now convinced.

Lania's mother fanned the flames, smiling tenderly. The reflections of the fire illuminated her mother's blonde hair and further softened the features of her face. To celebrate the vow of fidelity to her country, in the evening, she told her in front of the corner of the fireplace, the story of the people of Brittany: - Once upon a time, and once it was not, a story full of magic and wicked wizards began. The story takes place in ancient times when Great Britain and Little Brittany were one. In very remote times, our little Brittany was a sacred land, as sacred as that of Brittany where reigned the High King, Arthur. At that time, there was an island, called Sein, which was as famous as the Forest.

What forest, Mum?

The forest. At one point for Lania, the Forest was a sanctuary, a sort of church made of trees where one entered with fear or respect. In the past, the forest was admired and feared by all. And if by some, she was not one, it was because they did not understand her. But even today, some still come to see her or realize her. This forest is the Forest of Brocéliande, but it has been a long time since it fell asleep."

Why?

Because people do not see anymore, and they do not want to understand the Mysteries anymore. The Mysteries once made the Forest vibrate, the same Mysteries as the Priestesses of the island of Sein worshipped.

Priestesses?

Yes, you heard my darling, Priestesses. Long before Brittany knew the Virgin Mary, Our Mother was still prayed to another name in the sacred islands of Brittany by women who were not considered as saints, but who were nuns in their own ways. And those funny women who had the same knowledge as men scared the Christian monks. Because at that time, Christian monks and fathers had all the power and they represented a new religion that they wanted to impose in Brittany.

But why were they afraid of women, mum?

Because these women were free. They could wage war with men to defend their country, they did not belong to any man, they knew the medicine of plants and called to the Moon when they were in danger.

She continued to fan the flames, as one does when one opens an old wound.

By wanting to forcefully impose their religion, these priests, who feared what they did not know, forbade all other beliefs. According to some, it is unfortunate for us that France has included Little Britain in its borders, because nowadays, the island of Sein is trodden only by seagulls and tourists, and the Forest has fallen asleep in waiting for the unlikely return of her Priestesses. But Her spirit is still there, she said, raising her head in a burst of hope, "watching over the sacred places while waiting for men to recall the Mysteries.

What else did the Priestesses of the island do?

On this island were kept, taught and celebrated the old secrets, my darling. The ones we learned in Avalon.

Lania listened to her mother sipping a hot apple juice that she had prepared for her. Her chubby little hands circled the hot cup and warmed her.

They were called the Priestesses of Avalon because that was where their school was, but they lived on the island of Sein, off the coast of Brittany because they were Breton first and foremost. It was often said at that time that Little Brittany had its Breton Avalon, an island where no one could enter without being invited or called. And you, my daughter, she said to her while probing her young soul, staring at her right in the eyes, one day, you will wake the Forest and you will be invited onto the Island.

You believe so? She said, opening wide eyes full of hope.

Of course, I believe so! She nodded. You are descended from a lineage of women who have all been devoted to the Goddess in all Her different names and aspects. And the time has come for her to return to Little Britain under her first name. Each one's destiny, my daughter, mine was quite different. It will be hard, but nothing is easy, you know. In times of doubt, my little girl, never forget where you come from, who you are. And above all, never forget your name, my darling, because it is, she who gave it to you.

***

The years passed since this event which seemed as a foggy memory in her mind today, like an anecdote. Lania had left Little Britain to work and study in Paris. For these calm and joyful, even naive years, her friends and her life went pretty well; until the day when everything was a revelation in her young life and that she wanted to only fill them with adventures.

The thunderous heat of the summer was still present and Lania did not fit anywhere. Paris seemed frozen in the heat of summer and the city had become stifling during this season. The holidays were over, and she had