Doech Mass 1-24-2024 - The Darkness and the God of Terror

As a teacher of the college, I do not often stand here giving sermons on topics that may be better covered in a classroom. But it has recently come to my attention that some may not know of Danaan and Chadul; what they are, where they came from, and what they represent. 

Deoch has strong ties to both of these entities so a better understanding of them can lead to a better understanding of our patron as well.  

In this sermon, let us cover perhaps the simpler of the two…  Darkness and it’s God, Chadul.

The fifth element, Darkness, was harnessed in the 1703rd year of Danaan. It was not the first encounter with Darkness that history had recorded but it was the point that brought devastating understanding to this element’s capabilities in the hands of mortals.

You see, Darkness is not a traditional element.  Do not think of Darkness akin to the night. Think of it instead as the shadow that stalks in the night. Darkness is grown from the minds of all living beings; feeding itself on fear, hate, anger, and jealousy. In the earliest Aosda civilization and the golden age of Hy-Brasyl, Darkness existed only in Kadath because man was not conscious of such things and thus lived peacefully with one another and with nature as they knew no other way.

But even the peaceful and innocent can be foolish. Early mortals looked to Kadath and those that survived were often crazed; returning with poisoned minds. The desire to understand these corrupted led to an inevitable taint that slowly altered the minds of mortal men over many eras.

Just as people had discovered the ability to chain the basic elements nearly seven hundred years prior, shrewd magicians engaged in reprehensible study for centuries to understand this unique Darkness and how to command it.

Although this isn’t widely discussed, it has been proposed that the Darkness allowed itself to become chained for use in mortal magics as part of its desire to birth a corporeal form. Overconfident magicians were overwhelmed by the true nature of the Darkness. Dubhamid, the physical manifestation of the Darkness, devoured the magicians that called them forth along with thousands of inhabitants of many towns.

Perhaps it could have been contained there, but the foolish reign of kings eager for power continued to use the Darkness in their wars. The power was too tempting to resist.  

The more souls they reaped, the more powerful the Darkness became. The Underworld, the land of Terror and Darkness, was manifested for the first time to store these souls. No longer did the dead drift off peacefully at death, now souls were claimed by the Dubhamid to languish in their Underworld, their suffering bringing even greater strength.

It was a combination of this suffering of souls in the Underworld and the terror of the living that finally gave birth to Chadul, the new god of this Underworld.  The god of Darkness and Terror. Darkness spread with new found power and direction. 

It was then, finally, that the people turned to the worship of an old power for salvation. The power of the Light. Which we will cover next double-moon. 

Deoch Mass 1-10-2024 - A Geas

 

From time to time a star will fall from the heavens, an unusual occurrence but not altogether unheard of. Fallen stars are unfortunate little things. Left without the protection of the sky, they are destined to be devoured by denizens of the night that come out to hunt when Danaan's light dips beyond the horizon.  

In this particular case however, a fallen star was discovered in a farmer's field by a child drawn to its cries. Knowing nothing of the ways of the world or the dangers of her actions, she gathered the wayward star and took it home to sooth its sorrow. 

Carrying a satchel filled with soft fabrics fashioned around her shoulder, the child arrived at Glioca's temple the next day. I had been musing with the priest on duty, a very old and dear friend of mine, when our visitor announced her intentions without prompting. 

"Surly Glioca can return it to its place in the sky," she said to him with expectant, tear filled eyes.

My old friend smiled with a sage wisdom and turned to me, motioning toward the open satchel the child was presenting with arms stretched high. I shook my head, knowing the fate of the celestial was to expend its last light and fade from this plane -- unless twisted forces were drawn to absorb the power first. 

"My child," he said, only in a thick and nearly indecipherable accent, "This is a test given to you by Glioca. Care for this lost creature as if it were your own and it may yet find its way back to the sky when the night is brightest."

As if she understood she was given an important mission, the child marched off with a head full of purpose. I questioned my friend, cautioning him that he had sentenced the girl to a dangerous and impossible geas. His reply was simply, "The answer to the unthinkable is faith."

And so then it was that every day the child would stand atop her family's home with the star in her hands held aloft. Allowing it to soak in the light of the sun.  Then every night she would soothe its endless crying like an attentive parent of an infant until dawn broke on a new day. 

On the night of the full moon in the week of Glioca when the sky was ablaze with the shining of the moon, the child again arrived at the temple. On that holy evening, the congregation was waiting for my priest friend to speak. For his part he remained motionless perched against the temple statue until he saw the child walking down the aisle. Her skin had been seared unearthly crimson by the elements and her hair was torched white by exposure of constant light. 

As before, she approached opening her satchel and thrust it up to our attention. In contrast to the weak and pitiful being she had shown us before, the star shined bright and strong. It blazed with iridescent light that filled every corner of the temple. The priest nodded and then reached down, turning the child around to face the congregation. 

The light that had filled the temple started to bend and reflect toward a singular spot of the aisle. In that location an avatar of Glioca materialized. Flowing robes of otherworldly purple adorned the fair skinned, transcendent goddess of compassion. 

The younger Aislings in the temple not used to such omens supplicated themselves in reverence but the child stood steadfast. She took the star from its satchel and held it up toward the image of the goddess. Free of its shelter, the star's output was nearly blinding as it pulsed with renewed energy. 

Glioca's avatar stepped forward, taking the star in its hand with a gentle caress and a serene survey. With a flick of her wrist, the star shot up and through the temple ceiling accompanied by what I imagine must be the sound heard inside a bolt of lightning. 

Unaffected by the sound that sent the rest of us reeling, the child stood looking toward the last location of the star before it disappeared through the unharmed temple roof. Now without the celestial being, the residual light in the temple was starting to dissipate and with it Glioca's image was beginning to fade.  Looking down at the child, the avatar held out its hand; without hesitation the girl rushed forward and grabbed ahold of the goddess' waist with both arms. Glioca's image looked to my friend with appreciation. In a moment more both the girl and the goddess were gone.

By the accounts of the library's skywatchers, two stars appeared in the sky that night.  One that had been missing for many days and another never before witnessed star that appeared just beside it.

The acolytes the priest had tasked with protecting the homestead of the girl through this time reported seeing Glioca's avatar appear to the family outside the home. What the goddess said to them no one but them ever knew, but to this day the descendants of that family bring an offering to Glioca's temple every spring in the little girl's name. 

Deoch Mass 1-3-2024 - A New Path

 

We have begun a new cycle yet again. The 26th cycle since the dawn of Aisling kind. 

It's easy to look back at the end of a cycle and be exhausted. This is true even if you found yourself on a favorable path. For even a smooth path is dotted with stone and divot. But those that found themselves on a treacherous path the end of a cycle can be a crushing experience. There is a harsh self-infliction of blame that comes with grief and misery that can wash over you once again as a cycle closes itself out and you pause in its final moments to remember back the path you have walked.

It can be tempting to hide from this pain, but moments of reflection such as these can help
us shed those burdens we carry heavy on our shoulders. The arduous task of not only forgiving others but also ourselves begins with these moments of introspection.

Now that the calendar has turned us over into the blessed year of Glioca, what better time to look ahead for renewal?  For even in these old ages, there is always the chance to begin anew. A path to find your passion, your inspiration; that something that speaks only to you.  To rediscover oneself, breaking away of the thorn and thistle from a path too long walked in hardship. 

No matter what your situation, whatever sorrows have come before… know that the future holds the possibility of wonderment and happiness. I will pray that this cycle be the one that holds this for you. 

Let us pray, together, for the cycle ahead.