Rowan stood in the heart of an ancient forest. On the path in front of her stood a small girl, who motioned her to follow. Rowan followed the girl through the dark forest. It seemed to go one forever, winding through trees that touched the sky. At last the way lightened and Rowan emerged into a glen. There were bodies everywhere. It looked like a battlefield after the ravens had feasted. The girl didn't stop by walked towards a massive stone throne. As she neared the throne she faded away into mist and was blown away by the wind. Rowan approached the throne and saw Arris sitting there. He looked up and she saw that blood flowed from his eyes. Upon his head he wore a crown of tiny skulls, baby skulls. Rowan gasped and took several steps back. Arris stood and smiled at her, reaching out to take her hand. Rowan turned to flee but found herself unable, something was holding her legs. She looked down; there was William, his leering eyes, groping up her leg.
Rowan screamed as she bolted upright in bed. Night after night she had the same dream. It had been a week since William's demise, but she was still plagued by his screams. She drew her robe around her and slipped out of her room. In the days that had passed she had seem little of Arris, he had spent the time in his tower, the one place she would not go.
As she paced the empty halls the thoughts wandered. What were Arris' true plans for her? What had happened to Arris when William attacked her? Could the moment of kindness he had shown her be genuine? These thoughts swam through her head. She at last came to the library, and entered. She lit the lantern on one of the tables and continued her reading of the local traditions.
She read long into the night, and into the morning as the shy began to lighten in the east. What she found was fascinating. It seemed there was a festival held on the eve of the summer solstice. The Festival of Fire. She read about the festival and smiled. This may be what she had been seeking. She closed the book; she would ask Caladon about it at breakfast. Blowing out the lantern she left the library and retuned to her room.
That morning she was in better spirits than she had been in a long time.
"I know you saw what happened with William," she told Caladon. "I saw you in the hallway."
He sighed. "I would have stopped him, but Arris took care of it."
For a moment her smile wavered. "Tell me about the Festival of Fire."
Caladon looked up, a small smile playing at the corner of his mouth. "The Festival of Fire? Take caution lady, I think this game may be dangerous for you."
He leaned back and began to tell her of the Festival. It was ancient, and had its roots embedded in magic. Every summer solstice the unwed girls of marrying age would gather in a clearing; there they would praise the old gods and dance around a bonfire, praying for a good choice in mates. The women would don white robed and black masks. The women would pass through the men and choose their mates. In recent years the festival was more traditional, less sacred. A woman could not be denied the right to partake of the ceremony.
"Do you think this is a wise decision?"
"What I know of Arris, he will not be able to stop me once the festival has begun. And by the old laws he must honour my decision."
Caladon looked out the window. "Be careful child, I will help you in anyway I can."
They rose and went out to the garden for tea. Together they sat and greeted the new day.
