Chanting and Traditions
Go your way to the land of the Ancestors,
where they wait for you with open arms,
there on the edge between this world and the next.
See; there they stand.
Ancestral spirits, welcome this one
to the place where we all must go.
- Ceisiwr Serith
Bel stepped out of the hut and took a deep breath, her red hair braided close to her head and the long blue tunic brushing against her knees as she stepped into the sunshine. She blinked a bit but did not cover her eyes as she moved over to the small circle of people surrounding the fire. She turned and nodded to the elder, Grandfather, her eyes closing as she folded her hands and bowed. “Asche.” She spoke softly before turning to his wife, the woman dressed like her, a large gold necklace draped around her shoulders to show her status in the tribe. “Asche che.” She bowed to her before turning to the new head of the fighters. A young man who’s eyes looked older than his years. She smiled at him and nodded before bowing towards him. “Gaunte.” She then turned to look at the young woman at her right and she placed a hand on her shoulder and smiled widely. “Mescha che.” The young woman smiled at her and bowed, her hands clasped as she spoke softly. “Mescha.”
Grandfather tapped his staff on the ground and nodded around the ones around the circle. “We have come to this blessed moon of water and earth by the grace of the goddess of the stars. Forever looking upon us in her infinite support in many ways and many outlets. First we must pay homage to those we have lost.”
He started chatting, his voice taking on a life of its own as it lilted and swayed in emotion. Asche che, or her English name of Anna, tossed herbs into the fire, making it spark and shutter in an almost reaction to Grandfather’s somber chanting. Her voice joining Grandfather’s in a higher and more lyrical chant, a chant of loss. Then Patrick, Gaunte, tossed herbs into the fire, making it spark smoke in reaction. His voice also joining, deep and timber, expressing the emotion of grief for those we lost. Then it was Mescha che, or Olivia, the medicine woman in training under Bel, her hand tossing the yellow herb into the fire, making it turn the color of the sky while her voice intertwined in the chant, expressing hope and healing.
When it was Bel’s turn, she closed her eyes and thought of Nina… of her father… and her mother. And those she lost, the warriors that fought and the civilians she strived to save and she tossed the herbs into the fire, the scent of cinnamon and sage, tickling her senses while she started chatting. Her steady voice expressing compassion to those who are left behind, her eyes staring into the fire while she chanted and sang and thought about her father and Nina and mother and everyone she has lost in death and in life. She watched the fire glow eerily the colors of green and blue with hints of red. She felt her body tense then relax as if every ounce of grief was pulled from her body.
The chanting stopped suddenly with a hit of Grandfather’s staff on the ground and all eyes turned to him. He stared at the fire for what seemed like ages before he finally spoke. “We have lost so much these past years. The home we had was the biggest loss of all. We will always remember Blackburne.” He nodded towards Bel, a smile crossing her lips as he spoke its name, a name he never spoke of the home he has always known.
“Mescha will be leaving us. Not far, she is always with us. Always coming to check on her extended family. In her place she has trained young, Olivia in her place. No longer will Belize be known as Mescha. Today she will be known as Akche. A medicine elder. A mentor to our new Mescha, Olivia.”
Bel bowed to Grandfather and nodded as she spoke. “Kachete, Asche. Thank you, Grandfather. You honor me with your words. I am joyous to hear your praise.”
She turned and smiled as she looked upon the others around the circle before pulling off the large necklace from around her neck. The blue stone shining as it moved with the silver chain. She watched as Olivia bowed her head and Bel placed the necklace around her neck. “Listen, learn and love, Olivia. My parting words can only give you this as solstice. You will see death, but you will see life. You will see heartbreak as well as joy. Learn to embrace all and you will be the best that you can be.” She smiled as she placed her hand on Olivia’s shoulder. “Ulachage, Mescha.”
Grandfather started chatting again, his voice in joy as the ceremony finished. And Bel could feel her heart being tugged toward her new home of Hale’s. The sun going down past the horizon, glad she talked to the other towns around the small valley to let the tiny tribe live in the small paradise.
After the ceremony, Bel found herself surrounded by the rest of the tribe, handshakes and hugs making her laugh. She smiled as she spied Taia and Jonas, grinning happily as the little boy bounced out of his momma’s arms and almost leapt into Bel’s arms and giggled gleefully.
Taia leaned over and smiled at Bel before handing her the cortex. “This has been buzzing all night long. I didn’t check the messages. But I have a feeling I know who they are from.”
Bel laughed and blushed as she handed Jonas back to Taia before taking the cortex to check the messages. She was right. A great majority were from General. But one made her frown and she mmmed at the message.
Walter. He was with Sarah. Bel had given them the house. Who would have thought that Sarah and Walter would hit it off so well? It came to a surprise when Sarah sent her a message about how much Walter was wooing the older Sarah.
But this message wasn’t about Sarah. This was about Xaviar. And how someone came to the door asking about him. Asking if he was still alive, demanding to see him. Demanding to see any descendant of Charles Xaviar Rosewood. Her grandfather. Xaviar’s grandfather.
“Bel? What’s wrong?” Bel quickly sent a reply to Walter and then looked at Taia before shaking her head. “Nothing. Its nothing. Lets join the party.” She shoved the cortex into her bag and took Jonas, bouncing him on her hip as she swayed to the music of flutes and drums. In the back of her mind, wondering what was going on in Persephone.
where they wait for you with open arms,
there on the edge between this world and the next.
See; there they stand.
Ancestral spirits, welcome this one
to the place where we all must go.
- Ceisiwr Serith
Bel stepped out of the hut and took a deep breath, her red hair braided close to her head and the long blue tunic brushing against her knees as she stepped into the sunshine. She blinked a bit but did not cover her eyes as she moved over to the small circle of people surrounding the fire. She turned and nodded to the elder, Grandfather, her eyes closing as she folded her hands and bowed. “Asche.” She spoke softly before turning to his wife, the woman dressed like her, a large gold necklace draped around her shoulders to show her status in the tribe. “Asche che.” She bowed to her before turning to the new head of the fighters. A young man who’s eyes looked older than his years. She smiled at him and nodded before bowing towards him. “Gaunte.” She then turned to look at the young woman at her right and she placed a hand on her shoulder and smiled widely. “Mescha che.” The young woman smiled at her and bowed, her hands clasped as she spoke softly. “Mescha.”
Grandfather tapped his staff on the ground and nodded around the ones around the circle. “We have come to this blessed moon of water and earth by the grace of the goddess of the stars. Forever looking upon us in her infinite support in many ways and many outlets. First we must pay homage to those we have lost.”
He started chatting, his voice taking on a life of its own as it lilted and swayed in emotion. Asche che, or her English name of Anna, tossed herbs into the fire, making it spark and shutter in an almost reaction to Grandfather’s somber chanting. Her voice joining Grandfather’s in a higher and more lyrical chant, a chant of loss. Then Patrick, Gaunte, tossed herbs into the fire, making it spark smoke in reaction. His voice also joining, deep and timber, expressing the emotion of grief for those we lost. Then it was Mescha che, or Olivia, the medicine woman in training under Bel, her hand tossing the yellow herb into the fire, making it turn the color of the sky while her voice intertwined in the chant, expressing hope and healing.
When it was Bel’s turn, she closed her eyes and thought of Nina… of her father… and her mother. And those she lost, the warriors that fought and the civilians she strived to save and she tossed the herbs into the fire, the scent of cinnamon and sage, tickling her senses while she started chatting. Her steady voice expressing compassion to those who are left behind, her eyes staring into the fire while she chanted and sang and thought about her father and Nina and mother and everyone she has lost in death and in life. She watched the fire glow eerily the colors of green and blue with hints of red. She felt her body tense then relax as if every ounce of grief was pulled from her body.
The chanting stopped suddenly with a hit of Grandfather’s staff on the ground and all eyes turned to him. He stared at the fire for what seemed like ages before he finally spoke. “We have lost so much these past years. The home we had was the biggest loss of all. We will always remember Blackburne.” He nodded towards Bel, a smile crossing her lips as he spoke its name, a name he never spoke of the home he has always known.
“Mescha will be leaving us. Not far, she is always with us. Always coming to check on her extended family. In her place she has trained young, Olivia in her place. No longer will Belize be known as Mescha. Today she will be known as Akche. A medicine elder. A mentor to our new Mescha, Olivia.”
Bel bowed to Grandfather and nodded as she spoke. “Kachete, Asche. Thank you, Grandfather. You honor me with your words. I am joyous to hear your praise.”
She turned and smiled as she looked upon the others around the circle before pulling off the large necklace from around her neck. The blue stone shining as it moved with the silver chain. She watched as Olivia bowed her head and Bel placed the necklace around her neck. “Listen, learn and love, Olivia. My parting words can only give you this as solstice. You will see death, but you will see life. You will see heartbreak as well as joy. Learn to embrace all and you will be the best that you can be.” She smiled as she placed her hand on Olivia’s shoulder. “Ulachage, Mescha.”
Grandfather started chatting again, his voice in joy as the ceremony finished. And Bel could feel her heart being tugged toward her new home of Hale’s. The sun going down past the horizon, glad she talked to the other towns around the small valley to let the tiny tribe live in the small paradise.
After the ceremony, Bel found herself surrounded by the rest of the tribe, handshakes and hugs making her laugh. She smiled as she spied Taia and Jonas, grinning happily as the little boy bounced out of his momma’s arms and almost leapt into Bel’s arms and giggled gleefully.
Taia leaned over and smiled at Bel before handing her the cortex. “This has been buzzing all night long. I didn’t check the messages. But I have a feeling I know who they are from.”
Bel laughed and blushed as she handed Jonas back to Taia before taking the cortex to check the messages. She was right. A great majority were from General. But one made her frown and she mmmed at the message.
Walter. He was with Sarah. Bel had given them the house. Who would have thought that Sarah and Walter would hit it off so well? It came to a surprise when Sarah sent her a message about how much Walter was wooing the older Sarah.
But this message wasn’t about Sarah. This was about Xaviar. And how someone came to the door asking about him. Asking if he was still alive, demanding to see him. Demanding to see any descendant of Charles Xaviar Rosewood. Her grandfather. Xaviar’s grandfather.
“Bel? What’s wrong?” Bel quickly sent a reply to Walter and then looked at Taia before shaking her head. “Nothing. Its nothing. Lets join the party.” She shoved the cortex into her bag and took Jonas, bouncing him on her hip as she swayed to the music of flutes and drums. In the back of her mind, wondering what was going on in Persephone.
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