The Goddess speaks through the abundant life here, as she speaks to us everywhere on this world. And here, in this sacred place, the Sanctuary itself calls to me. It is a song that carries on the warm, gentle winds of summer, a song that hums beneath the babbling of the running stream, a song I hear in the cry of every bird, every predator, every tree, every living thing I can see and many that I, Rayna Darkspear, cannot.
The Sanctuary’s song has long spoken to me, as it speaks to all of us. But of late, I hear things the others do not. I fear my sisters do not let themselves hear these notes of the song, either because they are not as attuned to its sound as I am – or perhaps because they choose not to believe these dark sounds could be part of the great web of life with which the Goddess blesses us.
I have thought long and hard about this.
I have listened to the song of the Sanctuary for days on end, sharpening my focus until the gentle, healing notes are a dim sound. Now, all I hear is a deep undercurrent of anger and despair. What is it that cries out to me so? And why can the others not hear? Or worse – why do they lie about what they DO hear?
There can be only one reason. They do hear it. They know this forest suffers, they know the Sanctuary hides its pain within gentle sounds and healing power.
But I know it is there. And I will do something about it even if they will not.
There can be no healing with suffering. I will burn away this darkness and cleanse the Sanctuary. I will restore the song of the Goddess, even though it will cause pain before all is said and done.
If my sisters will not help me, they are lost. And they will burn with the rest.