Cerridwen
Deity Of: Magic, wisdom, transformation, poetry, creativity, herbalism
Animals: white pig, crow, hen, hare
Crystals: moonstone, selenite
Herbs & Trees: vervain, wheat, barley, oak, poppy
Favorite Offerings: grains, acorns, pork, vervain leaves
Symbols: Cauldron, white sow, grain
Cerridwen was an enchantress from Welsh legend and the mother of a beautiful daughter, Creirwy, and a hideous son, Morfran. Cerridwen knew that her son would never be accepted because of his looks, so she sought to make a potion that would make him the wisest man alive in compensation.
She began to brew a potion in her magical cauldron that would grant her son the gift of wisdom and poetic inspiration, also called Awen. The potion had to brew for a year and a day, so she set a blind man named Morda to tend the fire, and a young boy named Gwion Bach to stir the potion. Once completed, the first three drops would grant the gift of Awen and the rest was fatal poison.
On the final day of the brewing, when the potion was ready, the boy spilled three drops of it onto his thumb. Instinctively, he put his thumb in his mouth to sooth the burn, thus consuming the wisdom and inspiration meant for Morfran. Understanding what he had done, Gwion Bach fled to avoid Cerridwen's anger.
She gave chase, and using the powers of the potion, Gwion Bach attempted to elude her by transforming into a series of animals. He became a hare and Cerridwen became a greyhound. He became a salmon and jumped into the river, and she became an otter. He became a sparrow and she became a hawk. Finally, he turned into a single kernel of corn and Cerridwen turned into a hen and ate him.
Because of the potion, he was not destroyed and instead Cerridwen became pregnant. She vowed to kill him when he was born, but the baby was so beautiful that she could not bring herself to do it. Instead, she placed the baby in a coracle and pushed him out to sea. He was rescued on the Welsh shore by a prince and grew up to become the legendary bard, Taliesin.
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Moments When I Feel The Presence Of My Deities
I got this idea from @persephonesfoxway, who in turn got this idea from @caduceussky! Please give both of them a follow! ^^
☀️Apollo:
When I'm working on freelance work (I'm a video editor)
When I sing solo karaoke in my room
When I take morning walks
When I do tarot card readings
When I smell something citrus-y
When I play DnD (he loves to listen in)
🌖 Cerridwen:
When I listen to Celtic Woman
When I research something I'm interested in
When I think about my Celtic heritage (she's the one that pushed for me to delve further into it)
When I look at the moon
When I read poetry
When I write in my Book of Shadows (She's really big about me gaining knowledge and learning more about my craft and the path that suits me best. I can feel her pride with every new spell I take the time to learn and write down)
🦋 Oonagh:
When I see butterflies (like I said before, she LOVES butterflies)
When I think about my childhood
When I watch dance videos (she's been adamant about me taking it up myself)
When I think of Spring
When I practice self care
When I put a gift together for my partner (she always seems so excited to listen whenever I gush about him and I can feel her smile whenever I take the time to put together something to show him I'm thinking of him)
💀 Hades:
When I walk by the graveyard near my workplace (was the place that truly had me start feeling his presence)
When I spend time with my younger sibling (they're a Hades devotee and I can always feel him right there with us whenever we're together)
When I see a dog
When I brew peppermint tea
When I watch a horror movie or video series
When I wear all black
⚔️The Morrigan:
When I feel that burning rage in the face of injustice (the landscape of current Twitter certainly made that feeling well known)
When I'm playing a difficult video game
When I see the color red
When I show support to my friends and loved ones
When I go through with doing something that initially made me feel scared or anxious (despite her being new to my space, I'm starting to realize that her presence has been here for a long time; ever since I started on this journey figuring out who I am)
When I take the time to move my body and exercise
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Winds of Fate and Shadow
Summary: A conversation between Azriel and the wraith twins after Elain requests that they begin to train her.
Pairing: Elriel
Azriel often found himself on a path along the Sidra’s banks when he could not sleep. He had always found comfort in the vastness of the sky and stars above, after all that he had endured.
Out of the corner of his eye, a pair of shadows lengthened. Stretching, and then taking form.
Two nearly identical wraiths appeared behind him, keeping in line with his steps as he walked.
He was not surprised to see them, as they frequently joined him on these walks along the river. It was clandestine as anywhere, the path removed far enough from any other signs of life to ensure they were alone.
“Yes?” He prompted, maintaining his even pace with his arms crossed behind his back.
They had no trouble keeping his pace, floating more than walking along the bank of the stream. Every so often, one of his own shadows would fall back and meld with their own darkness, for a moment bringing clarity to the edge of their shape, deepening the contrast between their skin and the midnight sky.
Nuala spoke first, as she often took the lead of the two sisters. As she had in birth, so would she in life.
“Lady Elain has requested our services. To… train her in our ways.”
He did not have to turn around to watch as a quick smile danced across Cerridwen’s face, even as she tried to hide it.
He knew that the sisters had become close with Elain. As he had fallen in love with her in the garden, so had they in the warmth of the townhouse kitchen, a smattering of flour dusted across their noses, a sheen of sweat kissing their foreheads as they had worked alongside the new fae. They could take just as much credit as anyone for coaxing her back to life, and for that, he would forever be indebted to them.
“Why do you ask me as if for my permission? She is not my mate, nor my charge.”
Azriel could not help but grit his teeth as he spoke the words aloud.
“And besides, even if she was, she would not need to defer to me on such matters. The decision is hers alone.”
His shadows whispered to him that the small smile had fallen off of Cerridwen’s face.
Nuala pressed on, as she typically did. She was a knife at the throat, Cerridwen a sword at the back. And as usual, he could find no way to navigate out of a conversation they wished to pursue.
“Well, then what of her mate? Will he pose any problems, if he finds out?”
Azriel’s teeth ground together further. He could feel a headache coming on, and he pressed two fingers to his temple where it was beginning to pound.
Dark eyes flashed, and he was grateful that he led the way so that he could not see the stir of emotion flash across his face, even as his voice steadied.
“She does not belong to him. She belongs to no one.”
“Of course,” Nuala acquiesced, her voice softening. She knew that she had struck a nerve, and even the hardened spy knew when to relent. When to leave her interrogation skills behind. They were all friends after all.
There were a small circle of individuals who Azriel trusted, beyond his own family. Nuala and Cerridwen would be counted within his familial circle, after all they had endured together. Having met under the tyranny of service under former High Lord of Night. The pair had taken Azriel under their wing, had helped him to harden his heart during those years so that he could not be stabbed right through it.
They had protected him, and in turn, he them.
Regretfully, as he considered them sisters, so would they tease him as such.
The trio walked in silence for a few moments, and Azriel breathed a sigh of relief, hoping that the topic of the middle Archeron had been dropped.
It was a foolish wish, of course.
“She cares for you,” Cerridwen prompted, her soft voice like silk being weaved into the clear sky, as gentle as a tide soaking the sand.
Azriel said nothing, even as his pulse began to beat louder in his ears, his heart a touch too fast in his chest.
“It does not matter,” he answered flatly, even as he tried to control the flurry of his thoughts. Beat back the small flame of hope igniting in his chest.
A flash of her eyes in front of him, deep and brown and crinkling lovely in the morning sun as she approached him, dancing on bare feet in the swaying grass. Pink skirts the same color as the blush across her cheeks and nose as she laughed with him, drank tea with him, shared her dreams with him.
“But who does she spend her time with?” Nuala chimed in, her voice a bit sharper than her sister’s, a bit more insistent. “Who has been with her through this hell?”
This time he looked to the Sidra to his right, and saw a reflection of the first time he had carried her over the threshold of the townhouse. She had felt weightless in his arms, as if her heart had indeed been ripped from her and left over that godsforsaken wall.
“Even if she was not mated, she does not deserve a life tied to me. To all that I have done.”
“Azriel,” Cerridwen caught up to him, placing a nearly translucent hand on his shoulder. Even in its sheerness, he could feel her warmth. “You are a good male. None of us chose this life for ourselves. And if you love her…”
“No,” Azriel shook his head, but could not bare to break away from Cerridwen’s gentle touch. “There are too many things between us, it is not possible.”
Nuala came to stand next to her sister, although she did not touch him. She did not express her fondness in that way.
“Has love not overcome the impossible before?” She posed to him.
Azriel closed his eyes, and let himself imagine it for a moment. A life built of quiet moments, a love built on friendship. An eternity of her hand in his.
“Do not give up,” Cerridwen urged, her voice barely a whisper next to his ear. “Do not give up, if you truly love her.”
He found himself nodding slowly. A man possessed by a stubborn hope that had always refused to die in him.
Nuala brought him back.
“And we will train her. For her alone, as she wishes,” the elder twin reassured him. “And we will protect her, as if she were our own sister.”
Azriel’s eyes softened at that. At the devotion the two wraiths already showed Elain. And he knew that they would protect her with their lives.
“Thank you,” he said softly, as a strong breeze rustled through the trees around them, sweeping his dark hair from his forehead.
Cerridwen lifted her hand from his shoulder to wave her fingers in the sudden breeze.
“Our people say that strong gusts such as this are the tides of fate shifting,” she said, her dark eyes alight with a spark of mischief.
“May it be so,” Nuala prayed, pressing two fingers to her lips.
Azriel offered up his own silent benediction to the gods above. Not for fate’s sake, but a prayer of protection for the fae female about to take her life by the reins. A prayer his mother had whispered under her breath at each end of their weekly hours together.
“Keep her safe.”
He must have spoken this out loud, as the two twins nodded in unison before him.
“I think she may surprise us all,” Cerridwen said lightly. “She is a kingslayer after all.”
Nuala nodded slowly in acquiescence.
“She may end up being the one to protect you, spymaster,” the younger wraith continued, taking her sister’s hand, as they turned to fade back into the darkness of the shadows beyond.
Azriel had no doubts to the truth of this. He could sense her power, her greatness like a small ember inside of her. Quietly growing.
She had already ended a war once. What else could she accomplish, if her power was allowed to flourish?
Only the fates knew. And perhaps, Elain herself.
He set back to walking, as the moon began to make its descent in the sky. No hope of returning to his bed and finding sleep, as so much loomed on their horizon.
His shadows echoing her name in his ear with each step he took, hoping that each one was someone bringing him closer to her. To an impossible future, but one he could dream of nonetheless.
Tag List:
@ultadverb @reverie-tales @illyrian-dreamer
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