This is a continuation of the story. Please read the previous chapters or this won't make much sense.
As I exited the room, I saw a large gathering of people—very large. Was this the entire village? Oh my… I closed my eyes and tried to breathe normally.
"Astrid," I told myself. "You can do this. Just
be
an agent of the Divine. They're not even here for you, really. They're here for the Goddess, you're just a part of the whole."
I hoped I looked the part. I used the outfit the Keeper presented to me, Embla had done a great job on my hair and helping me to pick out accessories. I tried to walk over to the center as gracefully as I could.
My foot connected with a brazier on the floor, tripping me and sending burning embers flying. Gasps, followed by a flurry of voices filled my ears. "Oh Goddess, is she alright?" "We need water over here." "Someone help her up!" "The mat is on fire!" "By the light of Lys SOMEONE GET SOME WATER OVER HERE!"
Well, so much for divine agency and all that…
As some men helped me up, the keeper helped calm everyone down. I saw a charred spot on the mat in the floor in front of me. It was all so much, I put my face in my hands and started bawling. Arms came to embrace me, and I heard the familiar voices of Runa and Hagen; my loving siblings. Hagen shushed me and patted my back, and I sank my head into his strong shoulder.
Runa whispered, "Sister, it's okay! Mistakes happen! Don't beat yourself up over it. You're not the Goddess, and nobody expects it of you."
I heard Hagen's voice echo through his chest, "She's right Astrid. Pull yourself together and let's get through with this. We're doing this for Dad, all right?"
My mind snapped back to my senses. "Yes, I'm sorry." I told them. I wiped away the tears, put a big smile on my face and walked over to the Keeper. The commotion had died down, and all eyes were on her as she spoke.
"Kinsmen!" she shouted. I had a feeling this was going to be a long, dramatic speech. "Decades ago, our village, our
world
was consumed by flame." I was right. "The unthinkable had happened: Ragnarok. The world was cold, our people were dying. We were at the gates of Hel. In the guise of a traveller, the Goddess Lys took shelter with us. In our foolishness, I and the other councilwomen scorned her. But through her power and the wisdom of Jarl Eric, our people were saved. We pledged ourselves to her cause, to the Light!"
She pointed to her right, and it looked like a group of people in their late teens or early twenties were acting out a play of some sort. A girl scantily clad in white silk stood on a pile of hay bales with fake wings on her back, looking down on the group. A young man with barely a hint of facial hair played Jarl Eric. He stood, balancing a great battle axe with his right hand (it looked like he was really struggling with it), and attempting to look "majestic". On the floor below him were 5 girls kneeling; each wore heavy brown robes and held a candle.
One by one, the girls stood up and recited one part of a familiar verse. As each spoke their part, they removed the robe to reveal a white silky dress underneath:
We are the Shieldmaidens of Lys.
When the night is dark, may our lamps guide the hearts of men.
When the air is cold, may our fires warm the hearths of our kin.
As the breath of our fathers pass, we will breathe anew.
Through us Daughters of Sol, the world be filled with light.
Wow! These were the same words that popped into my head after I learned that Grandfather—er, my actual father—had died. Runa also recited them, and Mom; but we had
no way
to know any of this by that point. I wondered if Mom had told them what we spoke, and they somehow incorporated this into the play.
The Keeper spoke again. "With those exact words, I and the other councilwomen pledged ourselves to the service of the Goddess Lys. As pennance for our failure, we and our daughters became slaves to the Jarl in service of Lys. This is the contract, wrote upon our bodies and signed by our blood. And so shall we ever be the Daughters of Sol."
A somber look came upon her face, and her voice lowered. "My role as Keeper has been to protect and preserve this knowledge, chosen simply because I was the youngest. The other councilwomen have passed into the Light, and I am the last."
The girls from the ceremony brought their candles over, still burning. One of them passed her candle to the Keeper and re-joined the crowd. I saw tears streaming down the old woman's face. The girls recited another verse, one by one in sequence, blowing the candle out afterward:
With this light, we remember the Farmer. By her hands and her wisdom, the fields grew life anew.
With this light, we remember the Builder. By her arms and her will, the village was rebuilt.
With this light, we remember the Teacher. By her voice and her knowledge, the flame of our future burns bright.
With this light, we remember the Shieldmaiden. By steel and blood, our lives were saved.
With this light, please remember your Keeper. By my voice and dedication, our history has been preserved.
The Keeper tried to blow out the candle, but instead she just collapsed on the floor in tears. The other girls rushed over to her. One girl took the candle and blew it out unceremoniously for safety. They all hugged her, and the 5th girl ran over to hug her as well. The other girls said something to the 5th girl, she nodded and stood up to address the crowd.
The girl stood with poise, and spoke with a clarity and purpose rivalling the Keeper, herself. She pointed out our mom and beckoned her to come. "Mother, come forth."
Mom walked over slowly to her and turned to face the crowd. "One girl among the surviving children pledged herself to the Jarl, and upon reaching womanhood, he planted the seeds of our future within her. For this act, we honor the Mother."
The girl now knelt down before her, along with the entire crowd of people. Even the girls comforting the Keeper, and the Keeper herself bowed down as well. Not knowing what was going on, I followed suit. I saw a young man deliver a single flower to her and kneel in front of her.
My mom teared up, but managed to address the crowd. "Thank you, all. Please rise." Everyone went back to their normal positions.
As I rose up from the floor, a hand helped me up. It was Embla! She simply smiled and hugged me.
"Before the sun sets on this day," Mom continued, "the Jarl will pass into the realm of Light, a new Champion will be chosen, and the Goddess will speak to us." Everyone clapped, and a few even cheered.
Mom walked behind her as she spoke, to the slab in front of the statue. I could see a person under a white sheet on the slab. "A family who had abandoned the village before Ragnarok returned to challenge us. The family was tainted with darkness and evil. The Goddess warned us about them, and decreed that—for our safety—they must die."
Some members of the audience gasped. I guess these details were not familiar to everyone.
Mom continued, "In the night, while they plotted our destruction, Jarl Eric went out to meet them in battle. His heart was heavy, for he shared the heart of Lys in his desire for peace and harmony. But when he got there, he found them dead by the hand of their own son." The audience clapped and cheered again, which I could see was hard for Mom.
"Please," she held up a hand to quiet them. She swallowed hard and continued, "The boy knew of their evil, and wanted no part in its darkness. But fate was cruel, and he could not escape its grasp. The Goddess granted a reprieve, that he may serve her as long as he could. He was banished from the village." She grasped the sheet, and stripped it off. "Behold the Eksil." The crowd gasped, but was mostly silent. I think they were unsure how to respond.
Dad lay on the table, breathing, but motionless. He had naught but a towel wrapped over his loins, and appeared oblivious to what was happening around him. I could see Mom's gaze looking upon him tenderly, and I could tell that she still loved him.
She struggled, but continued. "He has served the Goddess faithfully, but now his time has come. I—I want you all to know that I loved this man. I was not capable of carrying so great a burden alone; he was my friend and helpmate through it all." Now the tears were forming. "He was a successful businessman, and funnelled vital funds to our village. This temple and most of all we have would not have been possible without him. Cursed he is, and sentenced to death by the Goddess; but let this be a lesson to all: Light triumphs over Darkness, and even an evil heart may repent."