Sunrise

For $50, the ritual robes really should have come equipped with pockets. Amber shook her hands, trying to get feeling back into them without looking too obvious about it. She didn't want to disrupt the ritual with her fidgeting - though she doubted anyone would notice.

She was on the far side of the Circle, well away from the central bon-fire and the May Queen. Beltane was supposed to be a festival of fire and warmth - especially the heat of animal fertility - but someone had neglected to mention that to Mother Nature. An unseasonable coldfront had come in earlier that week, and didn't look to be leaving any time soon. Each morning Amber had had to scrape frost off her windshield, and this afternoon there had been sleet mixed with the ever-present Northwest rain. It wasn't raining now - thankfully - but it was in the low 40s, and getting colder by the hour. It didn't help that she was standing in the middle of a field, after midnight, wearing a cheap cotton robe, a garland of flowers, and very little else.

She prayed to the Goddess that they would hurry and finish the liturgy - which sounded to her, so far away, like little more than mumbled words and an occasional "Blessed be!" Then they could get on with the dancing, and hopefully that would generate some warmth in her near-frozen limbs.

Heavy waves wash against the gravel beach in loud and lazy whooshes. Further up, the jagged rocks smooth into white sand and then low, grassy hillocks. All over the small island there are exotic looking trees - palms and cypresses and species she's never even seen before. A black crow calls out to her from the aquamarine sky, and she tries to follow it, but the sun blinds her.

Amber blinked, and shook her head. Great. Now she was hallucinating from the cold. Just what she needed. She squinted, trying to see what the May Queen was doing - something with flowers, it looked like - and then ....

The sun again. Huge and golden-white, a ball of fire ringed by a red nimbus. Tongues of flame lick along her flesh, warming her as she tilts her head up, smiling into the shimmering heat.

Amber opened her eyes into darkness, the warmth of her skin fleeing in the face of the crisp night air. One of her Coven-mates had begun drumming, the sign that they should start dancing.

"Finally," Amber muttered to herself. She easily fell into step with the others, proceeding Deosil in a sort of jog/skip that the High Priestess had told them was the Witches' Dance, and a great way to raise energy. At this point, Amber just wanted to get back inside, preferably under her heavy down-filled comforter, with a good book in hand. But even when the ritual was finished, there would be the ubiquitous Cakes and Ale at Lady Rowena's house, wherein they would discuss Coven business and the cares and concerns of the group for the past month. She doubted she'd get home before 2:00 AM.

Mostly, she didn't mind. She loved doing ritual. She loved having a group to worship the Gods and do magic with. And she genuinely liked all of her Coven-mates. (Well, except for Herne, who was rude, egotistical, ill-mannered and liked by no one.) But it was hard to get into it when she was stuck on the sidelines, not even able to call Quarters. All she seemed to be doing lately was taking up space, joining in the chants and dances, and looking pretty in her Coven robes. Hardly anything worth getting excited over. Just once, she'd like to have a more important role in the Coven. Maybe set up the altar, call Fire, take her turn as the Maiden, or be the driving force behind a spell. Something. There was more to being a Wiccan than acting like a cheerleader .... right?

She looks down, suddenly dizzy from the great height. Dagger-sharp peaks and treacherous cliffs spread out beneath her. Far, far below she can see winding streams, and low valleys, but that is a world away. Vultures and crows fly irregular circles as she watches, and the air is so thin she can hardly breathe.

"Hey, hurry it up. You're lagging behind." Juniper yelled, breaking Amber out of her reverie. Amber sprinted to catch up, a dozen questions racing through her mind. What was happening to her? Why were these visions coming to her? What did they mean?

"Eko, eko, Azarak!" the Coveners chanted as they raced around the circle, "Eko, eko, Zomelak!" Amber chanted with them, but by reflex, for her mind was on other things. "Eko, eko, Kernunnos!" She was now closer to the bon-fire, which popped and crackled with life. "Eko, eko, Aradia!" A yellow burst of flame rose up like ....

.... a dolphin, joyously cresting a wave. It seems to pause in mid-air, smiling, arching its silver back to catch the warm rays of the sun, and then gravity takes over once more, and it slides back beneath the water.

The Coveners stopped, and let out a noisy cry together, releasing the energy they'd built up in a Cone of Power. Amber was disoriented, raising her hands and yelling only because everyone else was. She fell to the ground with them, and her world dimmed for the last time.

He's beautiful. That's the first thing she notices about him. His eyes are dark, like the steel of an arrowhead, made even darker by the surrounding light. His face is perfect, proportional, not one line out of place. His lips are soft, rounded, almost feminine - but there is nothing feminine about his proud cheekbones or pronounced jaw. Long golden hair spills across his shoulders, down his muscular back, but is kept out of his face by a laurel crown. She thinks of Olympic athletes and Michelangelo's David as she takes in his form. But compared to him, they are like grotesque, misshapen trolls. He is surrounded by light, and the sound of harps and heavenly choirs singing. She wants to fall at his feet and cry, to join them in praising him. But she instinctively knows that that is not how you please him. And she wants, with all her being, to please him. He steps forward to touch her. The heavenly light and voices swell, enfolding her. And then there is nothing but the Light.

* * *

Amber sat quietly through the after-ritual meeting, smiling and nodding and laughing and making supportive noises with the rest of the Coven, but she was in her own world. She didn't really listen to Bastet glowingly talk about the achievements of her children, or Aiden tell the group that his father's cancer had gone out of remission. She missed Wren worrying about finances, Silver Yarrowroot hint that she had finally met Mister Right - again - or Juniper say a prayer for all the suffering souls in the world. When her turn to share came, Amber just smiled, and promised she'd do it next time. That was fine with Herne, because it gave him more time to brag about the progress he'd made in his study of the Qaballah.

When the meeting broke up, and people started filtering out, Lady Rowena approached Amber. "Is everything alright, deary? You've kind of been out of it this evening."

"Huh?" Amber had been staring off in the distance. "Uhm ... oh yeah. I'm fine. It's just ... well .... "

Lady Rowena leaned in close. She smelled of jasmine and old cigarettes, and there was a musical chime as her dozens of necklaces, bracelets, and charms shifted.

"I think I had a vision tonight."

"Ah. Like the End of the World type of vision?"

"Uh ... I don't think so."

"Good." Lady Rowena smiled. "I'd really hate for the whole thing to go ka-blooey now that I've payed off my mortgages."

"I don't think it was anything nearly so profound. But it's left me ... a little shaken. I'm still trying to sort out what it meant."

"Well, let me clear all these people out of here, and you can tell me about it over a spot of tea." Lady Rowena reached down and patted Amber's leg reassuringly. She then saw to the rest of the Coven, giving each one a few moments of private time. With her constant smile and motherly noises, and no small dose of British perseverance, she managed to guide them towards the door and out, as if they were a herd of finicky cats. Which, being Pagans, they practically were.

Once the last of them had left - Juniper, who promised to call Lady Rowena the following day with information about the plight of the poor Afghani people - she let out a deep sigh of relief, and bolted the door. "I love those people dearly, like my own family, I do. But sometimes they can be a bit much."

Amber laughed knowingly, and helped Lady Rowena gather up the left-over dishes and cups, and carried them into the kitchen. As Lady Rowena set the water to boiling, and collected the things necessary for tea, Amber loaded the dishwasher, and then sat at the small table and waited for her High Priestess to finish.

"I hope green tea is okay." Lady Rowena said, as she set the small china cup down in front of Amber. "It's all that I drink."

"Oh, it's fine." She took a sip of the steaming brew, and smiled across the table at the old woman. Lady Rowena was a handsome woman, with silver hair worn ornately piled atop her head, and piercing green eyes. She vaguely resembled Betty White, but wore flower-print skirts and gypsy vests and oodles of jewlry of a sort never seen on the Golden Girls.

"So then," Lady Rowena replied, after a judicious sip of her tea. "Tell me about this vision of yours."

Nervously, Amber did so. At first, she could just remember snatches of it. Fractured images. But as she warmed to the conversation, her words began to flow. She described the sun and mountain in great detail. The face was a bit harder, since the image seemed to constantly shift and reform itself in her mind's eye. Lady Rowena listened carefully the whole time, taking small sips of her tea, and asking the occasional question to prompt some further detail from the girl. When Amber had obviously come to the end of her vision, and the two of them had sat in silence for a bit, Lady Rowena cleared her throat and said, "Interesting."

"Yeah," Amber took a drink of her now cold tea. "So, what does it all mean?"

"Well ... " Lady Rowena paused, brow furrowed in thought. "It could be several things. Perhaps a past-life memory. Maybe you were this handsome young man, and lived on the island."

Amber considered that at length. It didn't quite seem right.

"Then maybe it was an omen. The sun can mean judgement, the island desolation. The mountain some difficult problem to be faced."

That sounded more likely, but she could feel instinctively that that wasn't the case. "What else?"

"Maybe you felt the presence of a Solar God. In each case, the sun was a prominant symbol - and the fellow you described sure sounded like one. Tonight was Beltane - the feast of fire, when the Young God is wedded to the Goddess in all his shining glory. An apropriate time for a visitation."

Something stirred within her at the idea. "Which ones are the Solar Gods again?"

Lady Rowena cocked an eyebrow. "Really dear, you should know this by now."

Amber glanced down at her cup of tea in embarrassment. She had been slacking when it came to her studies with the Coven. Her last project - to create a special incense for the new moon - was several weeks past due.

Lady Rowena made a clucking noise, and then continued. "Ra, Mithras, Bel, Lugh, Balder, Helios, and Apollo - to name just a few."

Amber went very still. When Lady Rowena spoke the name of Apollo, a shiver of recognition went through her. That's it. She instinctively knew that that was who she had seen. She told Lady Rowena.

"Well, I wouldn't rule out the others until you're certain."

She was certain. As certain of it as she was of the cup of cold tea sitting in front of her.

"Well, they're all just different names for the same God anyway. And this is just one of the many faces that he has. But the Solar God archetype is a very important one, and I think it would do you good to research it."

Amber nodded enthusiastically. That definitely sounded like a good idea to her.

"Here, let me get you some books to help with your search." Lady Rowena rose with a flourish of jingles, and walked back to her study. Amber followed her, enjoying the scent of old books and incense that filled the room. There were three floor to ceiling bookshelves, a large Victorian writing desk, and a comfortable reading chair. Lady Rowena went over to the far corner of the room and began reading the subject cards at random. "Jungian psychology .... Divination .... Qaballah .... History .... ah, here we are! Mythology."

She pulled out several books, and handed them to Amber. Encyclopedia of the Gods by Michael Jordon, The Witches' God by Janet and Stewart Farrar, The Masks of God by Joseph Cambell, and The Idiot's Guide to World Mythology.

"There you go, hon. That should give you enough material to start your search with."

Amber smiled broadly, and clutched the books to her chest. "Thank you so much."

"Think nothing of it. Now get out of here so I can get some sleep, deary."

Amber didn't get much sleep herself that night. When she got home she dumped the pile of books on her bed, got undressed, lit some incense, put on some Dead Can Dance and read until the morning sun came up.

To be fair, she looked up material on all of the Gods that Lady Rowena had mentioned, and a couple other Solar Deities that she hadn't. And while some of the stories were certainly interesting, it had no more effect on her than if she had been reading the Wall Street Journal's business section. It was when she looked up Apollo that the spark of recognition was lit. Even though most of the myths were new to her, it was like she was reading the biography of an old friend. Each new fact she uncovered brought him more into focus for her. The more she could see him, the more she wanted to see him. And before she realized it, she'd gone through all of the books that Lady Rowena had leant her. Passages not about Apollo she just skimmed over. She checked the index of each book to make sure that she had read everything they had to say about him. And even though she'd filled a dozen notebook pages with notes, she knew that she hadn't even begun to scratch the surface.

Amber got up from her bed, stretched cramped muscles, and greeted the sun as it chased the darkness out of the early morning sky. The beauty of the fiery pinks and yellows of the sunrise brought tears to her eyes, and she wished that she knew how to greet him with the proper words, in Greek. She vowed then to learn how.

* * *

Amber returned the books to a rather surprised Lady Rowena the following day. Amber wasn't exactly one of her most dutiful students. In fact, she could be downright disinterested at times. She had expected to get the books back in a month or two, unread, and after great nagging for their return. Lady Rowena offered to lend her some more, including Cunningham's Complete Book of Incense, Oils & Brews - a subtle reminder that Amber had yet to turn in her new moon incense. But she declined, saying she was heading to Barnes and Nobles to pick up a bunch of new books already.

For the next couple weeks, Amber read constantly. She came to know the myths by heart. She read books on the history of Apollo, his possible origins as a God of Asian shamans, his connection with Hindu and Babylonian fire and plague Gods, and how he was known to the pre-Hellenic Etruscans and Italians as Aplu. And while all of those things were interesting, she was most strongly drawn to his Greek cult. She read Carl Kerenyi's The Gods of the Greeks as if it were her Bible; she underlined so many passages from Walter Burkert's Greek Religion that she had to get a second copy.

She started by reciting Homeric or Orphic hymns while watching the sun set and rise. This grew into libations and sacrifices and with an ancient calendar she found online, she was able to determine the dates of Apollo's most important festivals, the Pyanepsia in autumn, and Thargelia in spring. Since Apollo was a God of prophecy, she took up divination, becoming quite proficient with the Tarot. True, it wasn't a Hellenic form of divination, but mantike was mantike and she got the impression that Apollo approved. Slow but surely she began to learn Greek. It creeped into her vocabulary through studying. A word here, a word there, and before long she could even make out a sentence or two. She bought a "Learn Ancient Greek" CD that was hopelessly confusing, but at least it taught her things like tenses and structure. Amber became more involved with the arts. She'd always liked music, and had a large CD collection, but she had never gone to a concert, or a play, or a museum, or an arts and crafts show - even though she lived fairly close to Seattle, wich had a burgeoning arts scene. But after she began worshipping Apollo, patron of the arts, she started getting out and attending some cultural event at least once a week. She began working on her own creativity. In High School she had worked on the staff of her school's paper, but somehow in the years after she had stopped writing. Apollo inspired her to take it up again, and she started writing short stories and religious poetry. Her greatest work was a piece called The Apollonika which was a collection of all of his most important myths, rendered in something like hexameter verse, the style of Homer and Hesiod. (She wasn't very good at hexameter, and most of it was actually in blank verse with dangling feet - but she was still very proud of it.) Amber began exercising more. She had never been a slouch, but it is easy to let that kind of thing go. However, with a clarity of perception that came with Apollo, she saw the little imperfections in herself, and how easily she could fix them. So, each morning she would listen to Classical music as she jogged through the Park, watching the sun rise slowly across the cityscape. Some people jokingly call their morning exercise routine a religious duty. For her, it was. At work, she began showing more confidence, creativity, and initiative. Her bosses didn't reward these positive changes in her, but they did notice them.

Lady Rowena and the Coven noticed changes in Amber as well. At first, they were gradual and positive. She took more of an interest in her studies. She finished all of the assignments that were given to her. She excelled at things like divination and ritual construction. She started showing up early to help set up. And whenever Lady Rowena asked for input, she was the first to volunteer her ideas. (Herne began calling her a suck up and witch's pet. Amber paid no attention to him.)

There were other areas where friction developed however. Amber had no interest in magic, and suggested that they were ennabling a fellow Coven-member by helping her with spells. Until she changed her unproductive habits, she'd keep falling into the same traps. Amber frequently complained about the rituals, saying that they were boring pseudo-Masonic retreads, and that they'd do better by incorporating more authentically Pagan material. She became despondant when the Coven rejected her proposed Hellenic new moon ritual. (It would have required participants to memorize a couple Greek phrases. That was too much like home work for them.) She got into many arguments about archetypes and the Wiccan teaching that all Gods are one God. And worst of all, she had an annoying habit of correcting people when they made historically inaccurate statements. Something had to be done about Amber.

For Lady Rowena, the problem was obvious. Amber had come to associate too closely with the archetype of Apollo. It was all fine and dandy to tap into him on certain occasions, or when one had specific needs. After all, that's what the Gods were for - symbols of human consciousness that released great wells of power to help us deal with our problems. They certainly weren't real, or meant to be taken seriously. And when one did, they got all out of whack, imbalanced, unable to tap into the other archetypes. Look at the poor dear. She was all lop-sided, with that Apollo energy coursing through her. She needed a good dose of Triple Goddess energy to balance things out again. She would make Amber the Coven's Maiden, and have her Draw the Moon down into her. That would make things all right again.

Amber wasn't interested.

The Coven was shocked.

"Why not, deary? It's a very important position within the Coven. You used to complain about how you hadn't anything to do during ritual. Now I'm giving you the opportunity to do something."

"Thank you, Lady Rowena - that's very generous, and I do appreciate the offer. But I just don't think I'd be comfortable doing it."

"And why's that?" Juniper asked, as if her decline was a personal insult.

"Well ... to be honest .... "

"Honesty is always appreciated around here."

"Well ... I don't believe in the Triple Goddess."

"You don't?" Several people asked in unison.

Lady Rowena took a sip of her tea.

"No, I don't. I never have, really. But since I met Apollo, it's been pretty hard to deny it. Comparing the two ... well, there's just no comparison."

"And what does that mean?" Wren demanded.

"Well ..." Amber paused for a long time, debating how much she should say. Finally she just swallowed hard and went ahead with it. "Apollo is something real to me. There's a concreteness about him, something that I can point to, and say, 'Ah! That's him.' With the Wiccan Goddess, I can't. She's just so ... well ... ethereal. Everything and nothing at the same time. No room to hold on to, with her. Or with the Lord. It's like they're ideas, not actually Gods."

"They are ideas. All Gods are just projections of the human subconscious." Herne piped up. "Even your Apollo."

"No, he's really not. He's something outside of me. Something that touches me, intercepts with the world ... but remains essentially .... apart."

"That's because he's one of those patriarchal conquering penis Gods." Aiden suggested. "Something out there, instead of in here. Up in the clouds, instead of down in the earth. He represents repression and intellect, and fights against the dark and sensual. Thanks to Apollo we've destroyed our environment, practiced salvery, and developed the nuclear bomb so we can blow everything up. Apollo is no different than Christ."

Amber laughed. "You can't blame him for that. Sure, he cleared the way for us to become rational animals, and he inspires order and discipline - but how we use the gifts of Apollo are still up to us. The same things that made the nuclear bomb possible allowed us to cure countless diseases, build better homes, travel to the moon. What allowed us to pollute the earth is now helping us to heal it. You don't really want to live in a dark and primitive world, Aiden. If you did, you'd get rid of your computer and car and CD player."

Aiden went quiet.

"He killed the Python so that he could steal female power and prophecy from the Mother Goddess." Wren threw out.

"Maybe. Or maybe he killed the Python because it was a big ugly snake. Or because it had harmed his mother. Or because it was causing untold damage to the people of the area."

"Yeah, but what about Daphne, and Kassandra, and all the other women that he abused or cheated. How can you, a woman, believe in such a woman-hating God?"

"Oh come on. What about Kyrene - she was a strong, athletic woman that he loved, and who loved him back. Not a bit of oppression in that story. And his prophets were usually women - the Pythia and various Sybils were famed throughout the world because of their connection with him. And what about the Muses? He was positively linked with women and Goddesses in many stories. You just chose the negative ones to focus on because you can't imagine that a male God might help a woman find her own strength. I'm tired of hearing about women-only circles, the magic of menstrual blood, and the glories of sisterhood. Why am I expected to just Drawn Down the Moon? Why can't I Draw the Sun? Because I'm a woman. Well, that's crap."

"Okay now, Amber." Lady Rowena said, putting aside her cup of tea. "I think you need to calm down. You're among friends here."

"Calm down? Am I supposed to just sit here and smile while they say whatever they want about my God? I don't think so."

"Amber, if you keep this negativity up - keep going on about Apollo like that - I'm going to have to ask you to leave the Coven."

Amber was stunned. She sat there for a moment in total disbelief. Slowly she took in the faces of the people sitting around her: shock, anger, disbelief, and even boredom registered on their faces. But they were the faces of strangers. No longer did they feel like friends, family, Coven-mates.

"Don't bother." She said. Amber got up from her seat, grabbed her coat, and left. As she stepped out into the chill evening air, she smiled as the sky burned orange and pink and blue with the setting of the sun. When the sun returned in the morning, it would find her a new person: herself.