The fire had been stoked in the middle of the clearing, and thirty men and women of all ages gathered, talking, laughing, and greeting old friends in the firelight. The stars, barely visible through the trees, winked in the dark sky. Merlyn stook in the middle of the crowd with another boy and a young girl. They hadn't been raised in drwydic families, and instead had petitioned the grove for acceptance because of their natural calling. They were who he would be initiated with tonight. The others looked nervous, huddling together for comfort. The boy glanced around them with wide eyes, taking in each person that greeted them with a sort of hesitant awe.
Merlyn snorted. The drwyds were powerful people. But they were people all the same. And soon they would be one of their ranks, not set apart like they were now. They were the only non-initiated people allowed into the clearing, and the powerful wards that surrounded the space made quite certain of that, even when the drwyds were away. The drwyds, in their ritual robes of gleaming white, surrounded them like swans circling in a pond. The warmth of the fire and so many people made Merlyn feel tired, and he blinked slowly, wishing for the breeze to come back. Bran came over, eyes bright. "Merlyn, you can't fall asleep now! We have much to do," he said, crossing his arms in a mockery of sternness. A robin chirped at Merlyn from a tree nearby and he paused to consider it. It was odd that a bird was up singing so late, it was well past sunset. With a shrug, he turned back towards his uncle just as Bran nudged him. "Hey, I'm trying to talk to you, stop spacing out," his uncle said with a frown.
"But that bird," he argued, pointing to where the robin had been. Bran turned to look with a sigh. "Hey, no more of your games, Merlyn. This is serious." Merlyn squinted at the tree. The bird was gone. His heart sank, knowing his uncle would never believe him. "But-" he opened his mouth to protest, but was cut off by a stern look from his uncle. "Go introduce yourself to the other initiates," he said gruffly. Merlyn reluctantly went over to the other two children, moving around several enthusiastic adults in the process. "Hey," he said, pulling the leather strap that held his hair up off. "My name's Merlyn," he introduced himself, retying his hair and offering his hand.
The other two initiates stared at him for a heartbeat, before the girl, black hair braided neatly down her back, took his hand and shook it. "Nice to meet you, Merlyn. My name's Brisen, and this is my cousin Gwyn," she said, gesturing to the nervous looking boy beside her. Gwyn ducked head shyly, staring at Merlyn over long black eyelashes. Brisen smiled at him encouragingly, and Gwyn coughed, reddening beneath his black bangs. "Nice to meet you," he said softly. It was a little more than a whisper, but the boy was so shy that Merlyn marveled how he had been accepted to be initiated. Brisen shot him a look, putting her hands on her hips, blue dress swishing beneath the off-white apron as she pushed in front of her cousin.
"I know what you're thinking. But the drwyds gave him a chance, so maybe you can too," she said, voice low. Merlyn nodded, feeling a little ashamed for thinking such a thing. Gwyn peered around Brisen's shoulder and Merlyn smiled when the boy met his gaze. Gwyn reddened and looked at his feet. Brisen gave an awkward smile and sighed, nudging him with an elbow. "Oh come on, don't worry. He's not like the boys back at home. He's not going to beat you into the ground for being alive. You'll get your chance just as equally as he will. We're initiates. All three of us. Don't worry," she said. Her voice was strong and confident and even made Merlyn feel a little bit better.
There was a sudden rhythmic beat that flowed over the conversation, and the drwyds quieted down. turning to face the archdrwyd of the grove. His eyes were clouded to this world, but he still swept a look around the clearing. As the milky eyes passed over him, Merlyn shivered. The smell of the torches and fire billowed around him, and he watched a small smile cross over the ancient man's face. It may have been a trick of the light, but the stooped shoulders seemed to straighten in his direction as if the drwyd had been aware of Merlyn's reaction. The man's hands continued to slap the deerskin drum that had produced the noise, its swollen belly pregnant with the deep, guttral sound.
At his back yawned the entrance to the cave the three children would spend the night in. Although it wasn't very wide, the man sized hole in the ground, built up by stones placed around it, spit back the sound of the drum beat with force. The drwyds drew closer to the three initiates as the archdrwyd began to speak. "We welcome this night three children into our company. They shall be trained for nine years, three times of three, until the lore of the drwyds and the voices of the land open up to them," he called, placing the drum at his feet and raising his arms above his head. His voice was surprisingly strong, filling the void the abandoned drumbeat had left. Merlyn watched as he moved one arm to his side, palm open.
A drwyd melted out of the crowd of white robes and passed him an oaken staff carved with ornate ogham runes-- the script of the gods. The archdrywd continued as he brought the staff down on the hard packed dirt. "This is a time of transition. From child to student. May the initiates please step forward," he said, beckoning with his other hand. Merlyn, Brisen, and a reluctant Gwyn stepped through the crowd of drwyds that parted to let them pass. One by one, the children stripped down to their underclothes, smeared with a paste of sage, rosemary, and fire ash across forehead, collarbone, and the top of their feet. Cold. Merlyn shivered again, this time in the evening chill. Then they sipped from a bowl of mugwort tea offered by the archdruid. They were almost ready. A footstep. Then Merlyn plunged into the darkness of the cave.
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