Moon Dance

Talia hated cleaning up at the end of the day. The scrubbing and tidying was endless. Her slender hands moved rhythmically against the black iron and her thoughts followed their fancy. Perhaps she could pact with some minor wind spirits to take care of cleaning for her. One of Sybil’s spell books was bound to have something that would help. Her pulse quickened at the thought of doing real magic. The thrum of energy through her body, her heightened colors of the world, guiding and being carried by the current of it all. That was what she ought to be doing. That was what made life worth living. Scouring a cauldron felt like a punchline to a joke at her expense.

Still, it was best to stick to her master’s instructions. Once, Sybil had returned early and found Talia napping with her chores half finished. The old woman had proven with a wooden spoon just how much strength was left in her thin arms. That had stung, but the tongue lashing she’d received afterwards was somehow worse. That old woman had a gift for making Talia feel like a child with mud on her best dress. Worse, she had left the spoon stuck to Talia’s head until she figured out how to undo the magic herself. She thanked The Lady no one had stopped by during those three days.

Talia absently rubbed her temple and glanced around the room, half convinced Sybil would be there judging her petulant thoughts. She sighed. The room was still empty, minus Sigil. The old calico was dozing happily two shelves up from the hearth. She chuckled to herself, cheeks flushing in the fire’s glow. Sybil was a witch but she wasn’t a mind reader. The old woman had gone to her room over an hour ago claiming exhaustion and her stiff movements consoled Talia that she had meant it.

She furrowed her brow, staring through the cauldron beneath her hands. Sybil had been unusually tired lately. She’d even sent Talia out alone for an equinox offering, explaining she simply didn’t have it in her to do it justice that evening. Talia had been ecstatic, and had broken down the entire evening to Sybil in excruciating buoyant detail when she’d gotten back. Proud and preening. The old woman had smiled through the whole telling, congratulating her apprentice and promising even more opportunities going forward. She had also stayed in bed well into the next afternoon. Talia focused on her hands, bearing her weight down as her scrubbing sped up. There was still a lot to do before she slept.

She went over the list in her head. They had most of the ingredients they’d need but she would have to gather more elder flowers in the morning. The cough making its through the villages was worrying and many parents had come asking for anything that might help their children. Sybil said it was nothing too serious but Talia wanted to be prepared just in case. She also hoped to gather some willow bark when she had the time. Sybil carried herself well but it was obvious she was feeling her age. She spent most evenings out in the garden, drinking her tea and watching the moon. Talia appreciated the autonomy, but she felt anxious anytime the old woman winced or stopped short. Seeing her face relax was worth the excursion.

With a satisfied sigh Talia stood up from the clean cauldron and wiped her hands on the old rag hanging from her belt. The whole place would be a mess again by next evening but for now the room was immaculate. It might be Sybil’s home but there was a piece of Talia here too. She had probably scrubbed, mended, or carved on every square inch of the little cottage a dozen times over. Hands on her hips Talia admired her work. Herbs hung in bundles from the ceiling. Jars of powders and salves arranged neatly on wooden shelves along the wall. Pots and alembics immaculate on the counter. And Sybil, sitting in the corner, amused with the entire production.

Talia jumped, nearly choking on a strangled gasp. How could someone so creaky move so quietly? Gathering her dignity to her full height Talia glowered at the wrinkled trickster. That bloody woman loved startling her like that. Honestly, it was unbecoming of someone so long in years to act so childish sometimes. Probably had Sylph blood somewhere in her lineage Talia thought, and smiled despite herself. Sybil’s ebony skin only highlighted the mirth in her eyes and her apparent energy was encouraging. Lately she had spent more and more time on her own, wandering the woods or simply tending the garden. She’d always been a little inscrutable, true, even a little mercurial; but Talia couldn’t shake the feeling that the songs she hummed while she worked had become more wistful. Lately her thoughts were distant, as if she had to come a long way back to reality when her apprentice had some question or need. Sometimes Talia felt like she was tending to a shadow.

Tonight Sybil looked positively alight. Her hair, normally kept sensibly braided, cascaded down her back and over her shoulders. The soft gray curls shone almost silver against her dark shawl, a halo of moonlight. It was her eyes that really caught Talia’s attention though. They seemed to swim with currents and emotions she couldn’t quite place. She glanced down. Sybil had her boots on, and her staff leaned ready against the chair. Talia’s confusion gave way to excitement and she began bouncing lightly on her toes. Sybil was up to something, and something almost always meant magic.

“Nothing gets past you.” Sybil said, a note of humor in her voice. She surveyed the room. “You did well in here. In the right light I might even believe you were taking things seriously now.”

Talia huffed crossing her arms across her chest. A child in a crone’s body. She’ll probably be needling me from her grave one day. Still, Talia could feel her excitement rising along the back of her neck. She tried to keep the impatience out of her face and stayed silent. This is something new, and new magic is worth a few bad jokes.

“Well, no time like the present.” Sybil said. “We have a lot to do tonight and only so much moonlight to work with. Get yourself ready and let’s be off.”

Talia was a blur. She didn’t even change into more sensible boots, trusting they would stick to drier paths. She threw her dark blue cloak around her shoulders, fashioning the clasp as she walked through the door. True to her word Sybil had already left, but had only made it halfway across the garden. A quick jog and Talia was by her side, Skirting around the old yew tree toward the edge of the plot. A large hole near its base exposed the roots. Sybil’s pet project for the last month or so. Talia had offered to help a few times, the woman was ancient after all, but Sybil always sent her off one or another task when she did. She claimed it was good for her to get a bit of exercise and that Talia shouldn’t be so eager to rush things. Probably fall over dead if she ever gave a straight answer Talia mused. Patience was a pilgrimage.

The pair’s pace slowed as they entered the forest proper. While the woods weren’t precisely overgrown there was plenty of underbrush to trip them up. Even with the full moon’s light, dark shadows hid plenty of holes or thick roots that could turn an ankle. Sybil seemed to know where they were headed though, moving smoothly through the growth and gloam, and so Talia focused on following her steps as closely as she could manage. She kept one eye and one hand free in case Sybil did stumble on something in the dark, but somehow she always seemed to find her footing. Talia gritted her teeth as she caught her foot on another dim root.

“Have you been this way before?” Talia asked.

“Many times.” Sybil said, “And you will too, I’d wager, as you come into your own.”

Talia considered the words. She didn’t remember Sybil taking her through this particular part of the forest, and though Talia often wandered alone it was difficult to tell where exactly they were in the dark. The night put a strange face on even the most familiar places sometimes.

“I’m very proud of you.” Sybil said. Talia had been ducking under a branch and nearly hit her head in surprise. The old woman was never cruel but she could count on her fingers how many times she had directly praised her.

“Thank you Sgealbag.” Talia said, a little wary.

“Please, just Sybil. Tonight we are simply two women taking a walk beneath the moon.”

“As you wish.” Talia replied “Sybil.”

“You still have a lot to learn.” Sybil continued, “Probably at least a century before you’re truly your own but you’ve gone about as far as simple lessons can carry you. Experience will do the rest.”

They continued on in silence for a time. Without a breeze the forest was hushed, with only the small scuffs of their feet punctuating the quiet. Talia pulled her cloak tight around her body. She felt she should say something but the quiet of the woods made her words feel small. She’d been begging Sybil for over a year to relax the leash a little. She’d all but demanded at one point that she recognize Talia as a full fledged witch. Sybil had hidden the house in lúbra that night. “Find your way home and I’ll admit you’re right.” The words had burned in Talia’s ears. They’d still smoldered the next morning when, shivering and contrite, Sybil had met her with a blanket and warm broth. Hearing it like this though left her chilly as that morning. As confident as she’d become she didn’t know if she was really ready to strike out on her own. How many times had she needed the old woman’s help on the angle of a rune or the exact pronunciation of a star? She’s probably just setting me up to show just how much further I have to go Talia thought, though the idea felt thin even to her.

“Oh don’t look so distraught,” Sybil chided “A world of women have stood exactly where you are now and did just fine. I know what I’m talking about and I’ll hear no arguments from someone who couldn’t tell Dryad from a Draugr in indirect light. Now sit down, we’re here.”

Talia rolled her eyes and took a seat next to her teacher on a small rise overlooking a glassy pond. Silver light filled the clearing, and Talia thought the moon had never looked closer in her life. The smooth water was a perfect mirror. A second sky to match the one above. One step and she’d be tumbling down amongst the stars. Talia looked away, her skin prickling at the thought.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been to this part of the forest.” Talia said

“I’m sure you’ll find yourself here from time to time.” Sybil said “Whenever you need to.”

“So is this a lesson? Or are we here to do some work?” Talia asked.

“Is there a difference?” Sybil’s eyes were never left the water’s face. “I’m here to see The Lady. Her’s aren’t the kinds of summons you put off, believe me, and one day you’ll need to do the same so you’re here to learn.”

Talia waited, but Sybil seemed to consider her explanation complete.

“So I’m only here to watch? There’s nothing you’ll need my help with?”

Sybil’s eyes never wavered. Talia could see the same sky dancing within them too. Three full moons, with matching stellar courts.

“There will be some work for you, don’t worry. But not until the end. Nothing to fret about now.” She glanced over at Talia. “Tell me. What do you hear right now?”

Talia closed her eyes and let the sounds of the forest wash over her. A branch creaked dimly over her left shoulder, somewhere ahead the water lapped at its shore. Mostly though the night was silent.

“I’m not sure what I’m listening for exactly. It sounds like the forest.” She said after a few moments.

“That’s alright.” Sybil replied “You’ll get an ear for it over time. I want you to listen closely tonight because eventually you’ll need to find it on your own.”

“What am I listening for Sgealbag?” Talia asked

“Talia, our lives and our magic are acts of harmony. Whether you’re working with a spirit, a plant, or a disease you’re power lies in finding and guiding its rhythm. How can you expect to lead a dance if you can’t hear the music?”

Talia pursed her lips. She knew all this, more or less, though Sybil rarely talked about it so poetically. Unsure, the younger woman dutifully closed her eyes and tried to settle her mind into the world around her.

It was hard to judge time, her awareness flowing outwards through the trees. Many of the smaller creatures and sounds felt instant and hurried, while the trees and the wind felt like the passing of years. Taking it all in at once the edges of moments seemed to blur and to merge, until it was all a one movement. Somewhere deep in her trance Talia searched for the rhythm she was supposed to hear, but whenever she felt she was close it seemed to dissolve just as soon as she reached for it. It was maddening, and she could feel herself slipping further and further from her goal.

A nearby sound brought her eyes open. Sybil stood naked at the edge of the water, her clothes neatly piled where she had been. She’ll catch her death like that, She thought, but the thought echoed distant in Talia’s mind. There before the moon, a pale waterfall of hair luminous against the dark skin of her back Talia had never seen a person look less exposed in her life. Her shoulders back Sybil stepped out onto the water. Her feet scattered ripples through the sky and yet with every step the water held the woman up. The moonlight on the surface seemed like a path that Sybil followed, and Talia found it harder to keep the scene clear in her eyes. At times it looked as if the old woman was climbing up a silver staircase, rising up on the light of the moon. Then she was walking straight through a field of stars, alone in all that blackness. Then again she was back atop the water, walking calmly toward its heart.

Is she humming?

No, not humming. No sound was coming from her receding form. But there was something about the way she was moving that set a thrumming in the air. Talia could not decide if the sensation was coming from her teacher’s movements, or if she was merely reacting to the vibrations so perfectly that it felt that way. Alone on the beach with the melody of it all Talia couldn’t find it in herself to care either way. Cause and effect felt trivial beneath the silver light.

At once the sensation stopped. Sybil stood still, blanched perfectly between the twin skies. The world felt poised, a bowstring waiting for release. In a single slow movement the old witch raised her right knee upwards, her head falling back as her arms opened wide. There was nothing else in all the world.

Sybils foot came down like a mountain, and the pool below appeared to vibrate like a drum. Crouching down she traced and arc within the moonlight with her outstretched foot, then pulling smoothly back up to her height. All around the wind and forest whispered. There was a pattern in it, Talia was sure of it, and the more she watched the more she could feel a music pulsing through the glade.

Sybil’s dance was slow at first. Wide elegant motions that displayed a balance Talia hadn’t imagined slept in her wizened bones. But before long her pace began to increase. Clouds of stars erupted from the water whenever her foot stuck the surface, and the light seemed to flow around her body as she spun. Leaping high into the air Sybil’s form hung timeless against the heavens, Her smooth skin and dark hair becoming one with the night sky. A powerful and lithe woman in her prime.

Or was she a child? Talia’s eyes couldn’t seem to resolve the scene before her. At times she saw the same ancient Sybil she’d studied under for years. Then just as clearly she would see a woman tall and proud, her deep black hair woven high on her head like a crown. A moment later she was a young girl, squealing and giggling as she splashed both feet into a spray of stars. Over and over again the scenes blurred, distinct and undifferentated. Sybil’s dance never slowed. Faster and faster she threw her body with an abandon that seemed impossible to maintain, and yet every step felt exactly right when she moved. Soon Talia couldn’t tell the sprays of water from the stars. The moon herself was Sybil’s partner, moving from full to new and back in sync with her time. In a final great leap the dancer rose high on surging note and for a moment Talia was sure there was another figure there amidst the blackness with her Sgealbag. A woman in silver and black.

Sybil met the pond like a comet, stars exploding out in novas as she struck on all fours. The soundless music receded, until only the song of laughter filled the air of the glade. The woman raised her face to the sky and leaned back on her heels. Tears traced rivers across her cheeks. Each a tiny cosmos against her skin.

Talia felt a hand in her own and looked over. Wrapped loosely in her shawl, her knees up against her chest, Sybil squeezed her hand and smiled.

“I heard it.” Talia said. “It was beautiful.”

“I knew you would.” Sybils voice was warm and deep. “You were always a quick study.”

Talia allowed the silence its space, luxuriating in its warmth.

“I really am so very proud of you Talia. I know that you are going to do amazing things one day. Maybe even as amazing as me.” Sybil grinned and Talia began laughing despite herself.

“I love you, Sybil.” Though her cheeks ached from smiling warm tears began pooling in Talia’s eyes.

“I love you too little one. These years with you have been some of the best I’ve seen. And I’ve seen a lot” Leaning over, Sybil rested her head on Talia’s lap and sighed.

“Now lets just enjoy the moment for a bit yes?”

“As long as you’d like” Talia replied, pulling the shawl over her teacher like a blanket.

Talia hummed softly to herself, snippets of the music as best she would translate into sound. As she stroked Sybils hair she could still feel it, just beyond the edges of things. She was surprised it had taken her this long to notice. For the first time in what felt like a very long time Talia felt ready to walk out on her own.

* * *

The night began to bleed out along the horizon. Dawn had found them at last. Suddenly aware of the stiffness in her joints Talia softly shook Sybil’s shoulder. The old woman didn’t react.

“Sybil? Sybil it’s time.”

Still no response. Desperation gnawed at the edges of Talia’s world. She held the old woman’s hand in her own. It was cold.

Talia pulled her Sgealbag’s body into her lap, doubling over as the sobs wracked her chest. The sunrise found her alone with her tears.

Standing up she cradled Sybil to her chest. When had she gotten so small? It seemed impossible that this frail feather had ever left Talia with a fat lump on her head after forgetting to feed the cat. That she had once made music with the stars. Where had all of that gone if it wasn’t here in her arms?

Shaking her head Talia stretched tall, flexing her toes in the grass beneath her feet. She thought back to the yew tree and the shovel near its base. There were rites to prepare, of course. She’d need to do a full inventory to be sure but she suspected Sybil had already stocked everything she’d need. Though she would still need to go find elderflower soon. That cough seemed particularly rough on children and she would rather not lose time in addressing the spread. And Sigil would throw a fit if he didn’t get breakfast on time.

Talia sighed. “Its all just scouring cauldron’s isn’t it?”

A warm breeze blew playfully through her hair, a soft chord of music in its breath.

“Yeah yeah, I get your point. I’m just a natural grumbler I suppose.”

With a last gentle squeeze Talia adjusted Sybil’s body in her arms and set off back to her home. The morning sun felt warm against her skin. As she moved through the forest her feet felt sure of every step, freeing her mind to the tasks ahead. It was going to be a lot, she knew, she had hardly made it through a tenth of the books she needed to read and soon she’d need to begin introducing herself to a whole host of spirits and forces that called this region home. Not to mention the local elders and wisewomen. Without a pause she leapt across a creek, landing lightly on a large stone on the other bank.

Just scouring cauldron’s. She thought. Just another part of the song.