Beauty in the Bones: Season 1

Episode 37: Strength of the Circle

"In a world where death is the hunter, my friend, there is no time for regrets or doubts. There is only time for decisions." ~Carlos Castaneda, Journey To Ixtlan

~*~

The following afternoon, I strolled with Gerald and Reuben on lunch hour. Sunlight gave a respite from the gray cold we'd endured recently. Any warmth was a blessing to us colonials, even if it was just noon upon the snow.

"It really is pretty when the sun's out," Gerald said, gazing over the icy waters of the campus lake with a wistful expression. "Like jewels, or crystal, sparkling as it does."

Reuben shook his head. "I don't get you sometimes. You're the only chap I know who's all aflutter about something shiny. If I didn't know you better, I'd think you were a--"

"A what?' Gerald hit Reuben on the shoulder in jest. "I'm an artist. We notice things the rest of you low-brows don't."

I chuckled. "The sun and my eyes have never been allies, as you know. I hope you'll capture the glory of this moment for me later in a painting, Gerald."

"That's a good idea. Though I'm swamped beneath another project at the moment for art class." Gerald checked the time on his wristcom. "Lunch hour is almost over. So, what did you want to ask me about?"

"Reuben and I have an important ceremony to perform," I said. "Tomorrow evening, after dinner, I'd appreciate it if you can leave us the room for an hour or so."

"That's all?" Gerald glanced at Reuben's skull ring. "You're with that crazy bone cult too, Reuben?"

"I am," Reuben said.

"I suspected so." Gerald sighed. "I had plans to meet Marie tomorrow evening anyway, so it's fine. Just call me when you two are finished with...whatever it is you're doing."

A loud droning noise filled the air. We lifted our eyes as a fleet of aircraft and armed zeppelins soared by. Riveted steel fuselages gleamed against the blue winter sky, engines and propellers rumbling.

"On their way to the new front," Reuben said. "The War gets closer every day."

I zoomed the display in my lenses in for a better look at the battalion. "The War has always been close. When have we ever known a time without it?"

"I'd hoped things might swing in favor of the free nations by now," said Gerald. "It looks like nothing will stop the Kaezer. Do you think he'll ever attack Michigattan?"

Reuben took off his bowler, and held it over his heart in respect to the passing forces. "May it never come to that. I've only lived on Earth since I was ten, born on Celestine. But Amerixca has been my home ever since." Closing his eyes, he lifted two fingers in the arched gesture of antlers--the sign of the stag Guardian, Olenhesch.

I whispered my own prayer for those off to war, asking the courage of Fenvolvna to fly with them. I was the blood son of a soldier, Asher, who'd given his life for this cause. A chill rushed through me, and not from the weather.

The following evening, Gerald left to meet Marie, and I gathered what I needed for the Rite of Asulma. Duke's skull was my most cherished tool, along with my athame. The Runknostar intrigued me, but their true purpose remained a mystery. I'd have to befriend them with time and practice, according to Mother. I'd left my wolf skull mask and seer's mantle at Silvring Hall, but I did have some Asulma on hand. Lady Selketh gave a vial to every seer of the colonial Circles for personal use. I also had small containers of necessary herbs, incense, and minerals.

Duke's empty sockets stared into my soul, and memories of the times we'd spent together returned. I hugged his skull, and rested my chin against it. This would be my first Rite of Asulma without Mother. Thankfully, I had friends to help me.