The Brightness of summer: A Celtic Land, #3
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About this ebook
In a world where the Celts didn’t lose to the Romans, nowadays and well-hidden, there are still Druids and their schools in Europe. In Paris, 27-year-old Lania is lost in her life, frightened by men and society. But Avalonia, the school of the Priestesses of Avalon, didn’t forget about her.
Find Lania in the final volume of the trilogy and the end of her mysterious studies in Avalonia…
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The Brightness of summer - Delenn Harper
A Celtic Land
The Brightness of summer
Book 3
https://fontmeme.com/temporary/92d022af665c053d89e9ee88d8d23a1e.png"Adopt the rhythm of nature: its secret is patience."
Ralph Waldo Emerson
Main Characters:
Lania: daughter of Katell of the Tudwall clan of Armorica
Luam: son of Meriadoc, student in Avalonia
Helori: head of the Druids House in Bangor
Cierdwyn: old priestess, Head of the Priestesses House
Niam: Director of Avalonia
Ellylw: priestess of Mona, professor of Tales and Stories
Tamara: Cornish student in Avalonia
Gairech: Irish student in Avalonia
Deirdre: Irish student in Avalonia
Ailsa: Scotish student in Avalonia
Tifenn: Lania’s cousin
Guilhem: Lania’s cousin, Iollan’s twin
Iollan: Lania’s cousin, Guilhem’s twin
Howel: Lania’s uncle
Places:
Britonnia: Name of the Celtic territory
Briton: resident of Britonnia
Avalonia: school of the Summer Land
Bangor: high school of the 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
Chapter 1.
The next days went calm and silent. As if time had been frozen, a still scenery, the birds didn’t sing, silence had taken the lead in nature. There were no more living houses on the land. There were no more bells to be heard in the distance, not a single crane screamed. Not a sound whatsoever. My grandfather was surely received on the other side, and Ankou had silenced Brittany. Ravens had flown to announce the news from Brocéliande. The Forest accepted it, he had finally returned home. The rain in my eyes celebrated its departure to the Other World, walking with him on his last journey. It had been the warmest day of his favorite month.
I observed this Breton landscape that once was so familiar to me, and yet today seemed so foreign, even hostile. I realized only today how fast a lifetime had gone by without even noticing.
When I was a child, my grandfather taught me to read the signs of the landscape and the sky to predict the weather, anticipate the next rain or a clear sky.
- And by following the position of the sun I’ll never need a watch, he taught me.
Today, I realized that I do it without even thinking, and I remember his lessons with tenderness and gratitude.
My spirits, always alert, heard some words coming from an unfamiliar source, and my mouth mimicked them even so. I didn’t understand the words, nor the people, but my body ceased to obey and joined them. My uncle had told me about an underground Breton pagan resistance that the elders practiced with intensity so that the treasures of our wisdom didn’t get lost. But my grandfather never mentioned it.
After his burial, three times, three men from the group of the eldest of the clan were reunited secretly to not shock the Christians, and be able to greet him and walk with him one last time in Brittany as it should. There were nine big fellows, would’ve said my grandfather, and the memory made me smile. The eldest of the group played the biniou to set a rhythm for his speech, or maybe to evoke lost memories, and make soft hearts cry.
- He was an outstanding leader with a formidable command, and a familiar guide for his troupes. No friend nor companion will soothe my sorrow. I can’t stay indifferent at the death of a man that was like an anchor in a deep and desert sea. My heart burns in long memory like a fire burn the logs.
His friends, his brothers, his companions paid him the last tribute and a last farewell. Together, like a well-aligned army, they placed their binious under their shoulders and the sound came out. The epic and touching note filled the space, and many other men sang along. Lania cried and her tears fell silently at the memory of the man who was her Grandfather. There were no women, she was the only girl in that small improvised group, but she felt like she had the right to stay among the living memories of her clan. And, quietly, Lania sang for him the Song of Departure of the druids, because she knew that he was listening.
––––––––
All that’s born has to live
All that lives have to die
All that dies will return
We come from the earth
We will return to the earth
We will reborn from the earth
––––––––
The season of love was ending at the end of a lifetime. His life was over, the Wheel had spun. He won’t see the harvests. It was the first time in ninety years. Such as Karl Lagerfeld not attending his last journey.
I was taught that death was just a transition. And when he took his last breath, I knew a part of me would die with him. I wouldn’t be here without him. He was my mother’s father. If it wasn’t for him, my mother wouldn’t exist, and neither would I.
The love that we shared was like a chain. One of the rings was starting to break, we needed to reinforce our ties so that the chain wouldn’t break. This chain is our family for many generations before. My ancestors were with me at this moment. The family ties were very clear right now.
And so, the circle of life was real in every sense. If love and death have a similar word in Italian, it’s because they’re two sides of the same thing. Like the two inseparable sides of a coin.
****
Lania understood, the season of love was gone. And that was too much for her, this season had many beneficial virtues but also carried a lot of trauma. This season, which was only starting, had made a lot of the elders around her depart.
But Lania now knew the ancient way to make a quick ritual whenever she had to. All that she needed was a couple of herbs and a good focus. She got ready to spend some time in the garden while the appropriate tea for this kind of ceremony perfumed all her Breton kitchen. She gulped down her tea so that she didn’t have to remember its bitter taste for too long.
The moon was in a new state so it was hidden in the sky.
Lania went outside, at the center of the circle, and started meditating:
- I’m calling you, O Mother, into my circle.
The effect of the Common Mogwort was bitter but opened well the doors of perception. The effect of the tea attracted the flow of my blood and made it burn. I felt sick and I cried, but I still focused. The effect of the tea was at its worst. I could feel a loud noise inside my head that didn’t seem to end, and then I heard a snip of Her voice loud and clear:
- I can feel in your heart the sorrow and mourn but know that everything’s meant to die and born again. This unbreakable law applies to everything that exists down here. All that starts must come to an end, existence for sure, but also the ideas, good and bad things, everything changes and evolves. And to evolve, we must first end the old ways. Nothing lasts forever, everything changes, that’s the rule, because the Wheel keeps turning no matter what happens. Be reminded also that Life is sacred and death is the same, that it is in the shadows that lie the sparks of light. If you’re able to remember and use what the Universe offers you, remember that women are naturally spiritual.
With a fading voice, I still heard:
- All the Women are sacred. All of them. Because you are the receptive energy from divinity, the lunar force. The true nature of the receptacle is also to be filled and emptied successively.
***
Lania was on the train that went through the tunnel underwater; on the first seconds of darkness, before the car lighted up, she saw her reflection on the glass as a stranger. All dressed in red, that train became her Voyage of Bran to get to the Celtic Other World. Avalon was also the Isle of the Death. Avalon, the Iceland of the Summer Land.
Her decision was firm and now she was ready to discover the Mysteries that a Priestess needed to know. She was determined, she would take her vows on during the fall equinox.
The train got out abruptly from the tunnel, and Lania lost her train of thoughts. Sitting on that train, projected out of the dark tunnel, just like her old life. Her place in the world became clear to her mind, and in one last movement forward, the train was entirely out of the tunnel. The train went from the French side to the Brittonic side, and Lania went from darkness to light. At her left, a proud standard engraved in its hills appeared to confirm her name and her paganism, the White Horse of Folkestone marked the entry of the Britonnian land.
Résultat de recherche d'images pour "white horse folkestone"Chapter 2.
When she arrived in Avalonia, Lania was surprised to see so many people in such a small town. Tamara reminded her of the reason being the imminent festival of Glastonbury.
The crowd gathered in groups in the assaulted city. There were more people than stars in the sky and were tighter than ears in a field. During the Glastonbury festival, all pagans came in pilgrimage to listen to rock on the plains of the small city of the Summer Land and crossed the border for a weekend. Lania looked everywhere for him, but she couldn’t find Luam. He wasn’t at the boarding school lounge, at the refectory, neither at the study nor the Library.
After spending all morning looking for him in all the places she knew at the school, she decided to explore Bangor to the Druids High School.
The entrance of Bangor was different and reminded her of the Priestess’s entrance. Over the door was written in golden letters the mantra of the Druids: The truth in the face of the world.
I wandered quietly on the white hallways of the big house. I was looking blindly for his classroom. I didn’t know that place and all my senses were wide awake trying to find out which door would lead me to Luam. I chose a door on my right. I eavesdropped slowly near the door, like a secret detective trying to listen to the druids. The closed door kept the sound and I only caught some random words: Awen... Research... Study
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The accent of the