Cernunnos

Ethne recited the fili’s instructions silently. Enter the great forest. Track the hare, but do not hunt. Follow the stag, but do not run. Cross the threshold, but only through adderstone.

The clearing was peculiarly silent. The birds had ceased their chatter as soon as the first foot had crossed through the enormous, circular adderstone and touched the paved circle, where the tiles were layed out in the familiar three-cornered knot. The fili had warned Ethne that the way would be strange; still, every hunter’s instinct in her screamed to run.

Nevertheless, the summons must be made.

“Cernunnos, I bring holly.” Ethne placed the fresh-cut bough at the center of the grove. “I bring oak.” She tossed the branch, with acorns still attached, on top. “I bring blood.” Not her hand -that would get infected before she could find her way back to camp -Ethne gritted her teeth and, with a quick, precise cut, slashed the back of her right forearm. Though it was a shallow cut, the blood came quickly. Holding it out over the oak and holly, she made sure at least three large drops had splattered the leaves before she wrapped the wound tightly.

“I bring fire.” From her pouch, Ethne pulled flint and steel. It took almost a quarter hour before the green wood lit. It was more smoke than flame, but it would do.

Ethne sat back, though still close to the fire. She closed her eyes against the acrid fumes and tried not to breathe too deeply. It was just a wood fire, after all; the source of life. She had sat by many a fire before, albeit better built ones, with drier wood. She opened her eyes.

Her field of vision was filled with white, thick smoke, more than the puny fire she had created could have made. A humming, like the string of an instrument had been plucked just beyond her hearing, filled the air. Ethne coughed and rubbed her eyes.

The smoke began dissipating into the trees, filling the forest with mist even as the grove itself became clearer. Cernnunos was here.

He did not walk in. Ethne didn’t even get the sense that he had arrived. He simply was where he had always been, and would always be, but now Ethne was there as well. A great stag, larger than one of the stone roundhouses that lay scattered across the land, sat with his legs folded under him. Great statues of serpents stood before and behind Ethne. Slowly, Cernunnos turned his antlered head.

Good afternoon.

“Good afternoon, my lord.”

It is good to see you again, bright one.

“I -it is the first time I have met you, my lord.” Ethne bowed her head and immediately wondered if she should have corrected such a being.

So it is. And yet here we are. You grow, break off, and form anew. Cernunnos snorted and shook his antlers. What do you seek this time?

Ethne looked up. The great serpents she had thought were stone were circling, moving incrementally, though she had an uncanny feeling they could strike as quickly as any earthly viper.

“My lord Cernunnos, we are at war.”

The great stag snorted again. Humans.

“My lord, they are not.” Ethne bowed her head again. “Some appear as men, but many -many do not have the patience for cunning. They slaughter us.”

You wish for victory? Ask the Morrigan. The great stag started unfolding his legs, ready to leave.

“My lord… My lord.” Ethne stood. “I ask you, my lord. Not for victory, but protection.” Failure. The thought of it made Ethne’s cheeks hot. “Please, my lord! As the champion of my people, I ask you. Grant us strength! The creatures -“

Bright one. There is no strength I can grant you that you will not yourself possess. The process of standing was completed. Cernunnos looked away. I govern the eternal. My balance is the only balance. If you want change, go see the Morrigan.

The mist hanging in the trees flooded back into the sacred grove, obscuring the great stag and his serpents. The holly and oak trees burned high and bright for an instant, and then were gone, crumbled to ash. The smoke dissipated. Ethne was alone.

“No!” She screamed to the empty air. “No, no, no!” She fought back tears, and instead slammed her fist to the stone ground. “Ow!”

The sharp pain cut through her self pity. She was a champion. She had failed, but this wasn’t the only option. She would return. Tell the village what Cernunnos had said. There would be more battles, more death, more killing. But she would save her people.

She had to.

Written for this prompt