Deoch Mass 12-27-2023 - The Stars of Hy-Brasyl

A man whose height had just begun to be challenged by his age and his twiggy, fair haired daughter walked the swaying, white tipped grassy meadow outside of Mileth as the sun dipped beyond the horizon. 

“What are those, dadaidh?” the girl could be heard from behind, head tilted back as far as her neck would allow without toppling her over backward.

The father looked back at his gawking daughter and then up to see the last of the goddess’s radiance replaced by twinkling lights emerging from the aether. It was the third time she had asked the question since the new moon.

His age blessing him with an abundance of patience, he looked down at his daughter as she surveyed the awakening night sky. “Those are the stars, my dear. They light our way in the darkness so that we can find our way home.”

The answer didn’t satisfy, “But how did they get so high?” her little hand stretched out, grasping to connect with the illuminated specks. 

The father kneeled himself shoulder to shoulder with his child and traced her view toward the heavens, gently holding out his hand in the same manner, “They are so high because they are the enlightened. Sages of Hy-Brasyl.”

The answer caused the daughter to bring her view back down from beyond with a dramatic exasperated sigh, a scrunched exaggerated scowl to match, “Those are people?” she emphasized, barely believing the incredulity of it all.  

She looked confused; she was always confused about this part.  “Not just people, my dear, the wisest of people. The greatest thinkers, artists, and writers. So great was their wisdom that it persists in the sky and guides us when things seem their darkest.”

“Will I ever be a light in the sky?” her thoughtful voice betrayed the naivete of her youthful face.

Reaching out, he took his daughter’s hand and together they started to walk toward the brightest star on the horizon, beaconing just over Mileth, “Yes, my dearest. The stars of Hy-Brasyl set an example, but there is plenty of room in the sky for you.”

Deoch Mass 12-20-2023 - Letters to Lost Friends

 

I was always heartened to awake in Temuair to find a letter delivered via carrier pigeon. Touched that someone cared enough about me or something we were mutually interested in to take the time to sit and write something. I began writing letters often, in hopes that others received the same feeling I did by finding a letter on their doorstep. 

Those that I wrote letters to most often have moved on from Temuair. I miss their presence and think about them often, but I wish them well wherever they are dreaming now. Yet, I still write letters to them sometimes.  Why? Maybe its because writing to them makes me feel connected somehow, even if they may never actually read them.  All the same, the ritual brings me comfort and allows me to reminisce on old times when I sit daydreaming near the lake in Undine. 

I would like to share a letter I wrote recently in hopes that it makes you think about writing to those you most care about. 

Dearest friend,

My dreams of Temuair have been sparse for a long while now. It is such an easy thing to dream of other places and so tempting to forget life as an Aisling. I lose track and so much time has gone by that I think I may be done dreaming of Temuair at all. 

Maybe it is that self assuredness that leaves me particularly vulnerable when I become lost and reach out for someplace of comfort... before I realize it I awake in this dream once again.   

I was shuffling through the unorganized mess of our home when I came across a bottle left from your stash of Oren wines. I blink and I'm leaning up against the hearth with half the liquid in the bottle missing. I watch the far wall as the fire crackles and dances, filling the room with warmth and shadows of light.

I think about us for a while. 

About those early days with Vendge, Mieri, Jherek, Kamshisha, and so many others. I can barely remember them, but I do remember you.. the rogue with the fiery red hair and the determined face. I still have no idea what you saw in the young, foolishly optimistic kid I was then.

I think about meeting you again after nearly one hundred and fifty years... same brilliant hair, same brilliant wit. You were a ghost from the past but so very real, I could never have imagined it. Our times on the beach, drinking in the tavern, and avoiding Merisa's snooping. 

Then the bottle is gone and the fire grows dimmer. Perhaps that is our fate as well, to burn brightly every century or so and to fade away. If that is the case, I will look forward one hundred years from now when I can be captivated by your presence... and your hair... once again, my dearest friend.

Deoch Mass 12-13-2023 - The Greater Whole

 

I have been a devout Deoch priest for nearly my entire Aisling life. I have studied at the foot of the greatest of Deoch’s preachers: Carnaugh, Kamina, Morrigan, and others. And it wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say that the place I have spent most of my time here in Temuair has been Deoch’s temple. 

Back in the early years, temple communities were quite competitive. It wasn’t unexpected to get thrown out of an enemy's mass if the priest was particularly devout. Because of Deoch’s unique role in the creation of we Aislings, this temple has always been welcome to those of all faiths. But even so, I too had a tinge of zealousness in my youth, preaching against the beliefs of others in support of my own.   

As time went on, however, I found myself more introspective. Old age has not only brought a refinement in my appreciation of Deoch’s gifts but those of the other gods as well. As much as I have drawn upon Deoch for strength these many cycles, I now equally look to the other gods for support. 

Whether it be an understanding of the cycle of all living things, the capacity to draw wisdom from the knowledge I have collected, or a reinforced appreciation for my hearth and home…  for these things and many more, I give thanks to the other Temuairian gods.  And I find myself discovering new reasons to give praise to Deoch’s peers often. 

Perhaps this growth is rooted in the simple fact that no core belief can stand on its own. We are all pieces of a greater whole. The strands of the Octagram can only be as strong if all eight points stand sturdy. 

Deoch Mass 12-6-2023 - Legend of the Aisling Spark

For a time I am returning to this regular mass time, one I have held at different points over the past 200 years.

The names and faces of Temuair have changed quite a bit over that time. Even the temple itself has changed since the first time I stood here as assistant to the great Deoch high priests of old.

Things change. It is inevitable and an unquestionably good thing even if we struggle against it at times. But while change is good, forgetting is not.  I have always intended to use this spot at the back of this temple to carry forward the wisdom of those that are no longer with us.

To that end, this evening I will repeat a legend that was passed down to me when I was but a young acolyte. A legend that I have recounted here many times and do so again in hopes that you, too, will pass it down when I am gone from this dream. 

This is the Legend of the Aisling Spark. 

~~~~

Deoch was a shifting, shapeless being of Darkness. He held incredible power, much more than that of a normal Dubhaimid creature that crawled the lands at the time. He was one of the favored of Chadul and was deployed not to decimate the enemy but to tempt them -- to lure them to the side of Darkness. If Deoch at the time was a mindless drone like his lesser brethren or not, we do not know for certain… but nevertheless, during his mission he happened upon something unexpected that would change his very nature forever. 

For you see, one day Deoch encountered Danaan seemingly by chance. She was cloistered away; no allies tending Her. She was alone, vulnerable, and looked to be calmly working on something that was taking Her full attention. Being the powerful force of Darkness that he was, this would have made a tempting target for Deoch but he did not take the opportunity to attack his vulnerable foe. Something instead compelled him to watch in secret.

What he saw was Danaan pulling threads of Light out of thin air and weaving them into something which Deoch could not see from his vantage point, but still he remained motionless. Transfixed by the Goddess and Her task.

For days... months... years... time passed. This time changed Deoch; Chadul called to him many times. But he did not answer. He chose to forsake his servitude to his Dark Lord instead of pulling his gaze away from Danaan and the mysterious work She had occupied Herself with.

Over a century had passed since Deoch ignored the call of Chadul until one day Danaan disappeared, mysteriously and without warning. In the years leading up to this, Her work had started to become frantic as if She was working against a deadline. Deoch, either through habit or cautiousness, continued to wait. But Danaan did not return. He slowly emerged from his hiding place and stood before the creation Danaan had left behind. It was a Spark of Light. Delicate in its weaving yet strong but it was… incomplete. If something wasn’t done, it would soon wink out of existence. The work Danaan had done would unravel and be lost forever.

Deoch knew he couldn’t let this happen; he had come to love Danaan and this Spark was all that remained of Her. Filled with sorrow at the disappearance of the Goddess he started to work, inspired by the dedication he had been witness to for so long. Although he wasn’t able to see the full picture of how She had been weaving this creation, the decades he had been watching her outside motions… he was certain he could at least approximate Her design.

For us, it would seem not much but a blink of an eye. But in that moment Deoch spent lifetimes completing Her work. A delicate blending of style and form – two very different creators with very different energies – an impossible union of Light and Darkness. When he stepped away, satisfied with what he had done, Deoch thought back on his time watching Danaan and felt contentment for the first time. A brilliant flash enveloped him rebirthing Deoch as the God of Inspiration for his role in giving life to Danaa’s final work: The Aisling Spark.