And Tohki begins.

Oh Father Eusou,

Creator, Gardener, Harvester

We thank you,

We bless you,

We adore you,

Tohki blessed Eusou in the heights and in the depths. In the lower planes and the higher ones. She blessed his attributes of Love, Harmony, Goodness, Truth, Life, Wisdom, Power, and Joy.

I thank you, oh Eusou, for this house is filled with your presence.

I thank you, for within you, I live and move.

I thank you, for all who enter here will fill your presence.

Then Tohki is quiet, her eyes closed.

The fire pops and Priya jumps in her seat at the sudden noise. But she sees the other women sitting in stillness and stills herself.

“Let us drink,” Tohki says.

The energies shift as the other women stand, forming a single line in front of Tohki. Priya is in the back, watching and observing this next phase of the ritual.

Holding a clay bowl in one hand, Tohki scoops into a wooden cup a beverage. Tohki drinks the cup swiftly before dipping it again into the bowl. Each woman takes the cup, offers it to the heavens, then drinks it down in a single gulp before handing the cup back to Tohki who refills it for the next in line.

When it was Priya’s turn, Tohki doesn’t scoop the drink into the cup immediately. She looks into Priya’s eyes. It feels as if she was looking through her; through the outer layer of who Priya was, all the way down into the abyss of Priya’s heart and soul. Measuring her. Discovering her worth.

Tohki dips the cup. Priya can hear it scrape the bottom of the bowl as Tohki drags it slowly across the bowl, filling it almost to the brim.

Taking the cup in hand, Priya sniffs at it. There is an herbal essence to it. Something sweet and a little bit woodsy. It made Priya think of the bark of the cherry tree. It couldn’t be that bad, could it? She tried to take it all in one big gulp like the other women, but she couldn’t. Priya swallowed and a shudder ran through her, starting at the tip of her nose and running all the way down to her bare toes. She stared at what remained in her cup.

Was this what it meant to be a woman? What did the boys have to drink to become men? She had seen the kinds of things boys drank behind the alehouse, but never thought it made them men. If anything it made them more foolish.

She looked to Anissa for guidance, but couldn’t catch her eyes. Anissa’s head was bowed, her hands raised in prayer.

Looking up, she could see the night sky through the opening in the roof and through that saw The Mother, shining down on her.

That gave her the strength she needed and she down the contents of the cup, grit and all. The shudder ran through her again, but after that she was still again. Priya handed the cup back to Tohki.

Tohki bent down, setting the bowl and cup next to where she sat and settled back down into her cushion. The other women began to follow suit and so did Priya.

Once they were settled and still, silence filled the holy house once more. It stretched on and on until Priya began to wonder if anything else was going to happen, but then softly and gently Tohki began to sing.

O mother can you hear me?

Mama, hear my cry.

I am just a little child.

Please hold me.

Her voice is steady, pleading to The Mother; the Creator’s spouse, his equal. As she starts singing the same words, the other women join her. Priya, familiar with the call and response, but unfamiliar with this particular song stumbles alongside them.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

O Mother help me.

I need your aid.

Tell me that I am good.

And hold me in your arms.

O mama! O mama!

Tell me I am your child.

Tell me that I will be alright.

And hold me in your arms.

Our Lady help me

Find the strength in me,

The strength of Love

So I can help hold others.

The hymn was a plea; and ask for help. And as Priya sang she could feel an energy building inside her; that the words weren’t just words, that she was speaking directly to The Mother asking for help, pleading for help. She felt tears, sliding down her cheeks, but she didn’t want to wipe them away. She wanted to stay in this experience fully, letting her song, her voice rise with the smoke of the fire, spiraling, spiraling through the roof opening, up into the night sky, until her prayer reached The Mother.

When the final syllable was sung and their voices faded, they all sat in silence until Tohki began to sing the next hymn. And this was how it continued, song after song, singing in unison. They sang hymns that praise Eusou, The Mother, Father Moon, Sister Sun, Terra, the Waters of Terra, and the Forests of Terra. They sang hymns of courage and strength, songs of fortitude and resilience, and songs of hope and joy. On and on it went. All the voices pushing and pulling against each other.

And while at first it felt like the hymns and the singing themselves were energetic, Priya began to feel clearer and clearer some form of energetic force building around them, centered above the fire, like a cyclone; something that was beyond the music they were making. It was almost as if the songs itself were creating, or calling down upon them, this terrific and terrifying force.

Priya looked above the fire, at the spiraling smoke, but did not see anything there. Nor was there any undulation in the smoke itself that was unnatural. But as she looked at and studied the smoke, stumbling briefly through the words of the current hymn as she did so, Priya began to see something there. Twisting amongst the smoke were twirly, whirly pieces of green and yellow cobwebs. They were attached to everything, not just the smoke. As Priya looked around the sacred space, she saw it swirling in the walls, the posts and support beams, and in the hair, faces, and clothing of those gathered. Priya lifts her hand to her face and can see the same patterns present there. But as she brings her hand closer, she can see the cobwebs split, creating ladder-like structures between the now two strands. They twist, pulsating with a greenish. These shapes move in and out, creating new shapes. Rectangular outlines like a house or fence. Circular ripples as if someone had thrown a stone into the pond of Priya’s visual field; the green turning a deep, dark purple, before spinning away like the fireworks a tinkerer had once brought to their village.

The pulsings, Priya notes, are to the beat of Tohki’s hymns. It’s a dance, Priya thinks as she stops singing. That thought cascades a hundred other thoughts all at once. How do I know it’s a dance? Have I ever danced? No, not real dancing. Just dancing for fun, as a child. So, how would I know if this is really what a dance is like?

The thoughts bounced around in her head, knocking against each other. The noise was deafening. Priya wanted to sing, but how could she? But then she remembered the advice her mother gave her to anchor herself to the flame.

Priya lay her hand back down in her lap and turned her gaze to the fire. It was hard. She wanted to get lost inside all the furious zigzags and the kaleidoscope of colors, but she squinted her eyes, until all she could see was the tiny flame burning in the center of the fire. With her anchor in place, Priya was able to find her way back to the hymn, folding her voice in with other women.

It’s beauty is lies

The serpent’s lies

Hide the Light

From our Eyes

Only the Light

Is welcome here

Let the dark clouds

Pass away pass away

Those that are not Love

Those that are not of the Light

Be gone. Be gone.

Be gone. Be gone.

It was silent again and Tohki let it remain so.

Priya could still feel the vibration of the force that was present in the space. Its thrum ran through her, vibrating her core and soul. In her mind's eye, Priya could see an eagle hovering above the fire, buffeting them with its wings. The air rippled under the force of its presence, but when Priya focused her eyes on the space that she felt it was, it wasn’t there. But it was there and all Priya wanted to do was to kneel down, prostrating herself before it. It was awesome, awful, and awe-inspiring all at once.

What was in that drink? Priya wondered, but there magically was Tohki, kneeling beside her, offering her another cup of the rancid-tasting brew. Priya took the cup and looked at it, staring deeply at the ripples the drink made as her hand shook slightly, the patterns within patterns visible on its surface.

Just thinking about downing the drink made Priya shiver, her head jerking involuntarily to the side. A moan escaped her lips. It wasn’t as if her conscious self—the version of her that was at the forefront of her thoughts, feelings and present emotions. But some part of me does, she thought. Perhaps some other element, her spirit or soul, knew what was to come after she drank the second cup, and that was what was rejecting it.

Help me. Priya pointed those thoughts to the cup and the brew within it. Aid me. Give me the courage to see my path through this night. Give me the strength to walk it.

Priya exhaled through her teeth and downed the contents of the cup in a single gulp. Another shiver passed through her and when she raised her head, opening her eyes once more, Tohki was there, offering her a comforting smile.

Tohki served Serah, then Gal, before settling back down onto her cushion.