OOM: Spring Equinox (2000 CE)
Mar. 19th, 2008 10:47 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dovelikeShe is up long before Eos even thinks to climb out of bed, or Helios begins his slow rise to waking. Bare feet push down against the tangle of dirt and grass that serves as an echo of her mother's garden. Eirene has returned to Olympus. The streets are quiet now, as they have been the last handful of times she has come, so the goddess takes her time descending towards the gates, her footsteps timed to coincide with the faint brightening of the horizon.
The moment she stands behind the gates, Eos soars above her in the sky, heralding a new day and the approaching glory of Helios and his sun-chariot. Eirene waits patiently, watching the sky develop into a clear, light blue, until a flash of gold sails above the mountain's top and the Titan emerges to chase the fleeting traces of Nyx awake. There is a faint smile on the face of the goddess watching below, her chin lifted towards the clouds high above.
Spring has arrived.
The gates swing outward now at a silent demand and Eirene darts forward, turning towards the East and its great mysteries. There are ancient treaties in place with the deities of other lands that give those who rule over this season right of passage on this day only without being stopped and interrogated. Even so, they are not on her mind today as nimble legs take her down the mountain path she always uses, soon joined by any number of satyrs and nymphs, dryads raining down blossoms to pave her way with flowers.
In less than an hour, she has left Greece behind, hair streaming behind her like a banner, and runs right across the Caspian Sea into the southern tip of what used to be the USSR. Russia. Rus. Vikings. Her entourage has fallen behind, left somewhere in Turkey to make their own ways back to the sacred mountain, and while Eirene does occasionally wish for company on these annual treks -- she will not complain about her current observers - a dove soaring high above her.
It, too, veers away when she reaches China, darting through the rice fields and busy city streets alike -- Eirene runs through walls when she needs to, and no one is ever the wiser. She pauses momentarily on the eastern coast of Japan, gazing out at the blanket of ocean before her; its blue waters barely a shade darker than her eyes, feasting on the visual magnificence of all creation, and then she surges forward again, running lightly across the surface of the Pacific until she is nothing but a blur to mortal eyes. Fellow deities, any who might be awake, will probably see her as she passes.
Peace reaches the western tip of Hawaii barely three hours after she started her journey, and the coast of California barely an hour later. As with all the lands she has already moved across, her blessings fall on the flora and fauna that populate Gaea's surface as the incarnation of Spring. As the fertility goddess she fully becomes on this holiest of days, her presence may inspire a conception here and there amidst the human population that settled this continent so many years ago.
From Monterey to Denver and Charleston, her presence sweeps across America, kindling peace, love, understanding and rebirth, and the reverberations given back -- because people tend to send out good vibes when they're happy -- lift her right into the sky, until she's dancing on air with her arms open towards the sun in homage.
It's hours later, almost mid-afternoon when her feet once again touch soil, bare toes wriggling happily in the dirty street in front of her own temple. Ara Pacis. Altar of Peace. She strides up the cracked steps, noting that someone tried to sweep out some of the dust and dirt from what is now considered a crumbling relic of the Roman empire, and it's so easy to visualize what it once looked like -- the bright murals, the flowers, the children playing hide and seek just outside while their parents left offerings. There are a few now, older women who cross themselves with the sign of the more modern religion but leave flowers to the 'Lady of Peace' anyway.
Eirene leaves the temple a short while later, skipping easily across the waters to Greece. It is here she wades into the sea with an offering of flowers and blood (her own, palm nicked by the sharpest rock she could find). Mother Earth, Gaea, Grandmother, is also given her offering of blood to avert the End for another year. Tradition. Old habits. The walk back to Olympus takes only a short while, so she can dance with the nymphs and dryads and satyrs and celebrate the awakening of Earth.
A god's definition of time differs remarkably from a mortal's, so it is barely noon when Spring excuses herself from the ageless, frenetic dance and heads toward the shack at the bottom of the mountain. Inside she will find family and friends, and the chance to enjoy herself.
The moment she stands behind the gates, Eos soars above her in the sky, heralding a new day and the approaching glory of Helios and his sun-chariot. Eirene waits patiently, watching the sky develop into a clear, light blue, until a flash of gold sails above the mountain's top and the Titan emerges to chase the fleeting traces of Nyx awake. There is a faint smile on the face of the goddess watching below, her chin lifted towards the clouds high above.
Spring has arrived.
The gates swing outward now at a silent demand and Eirene darts forward, turning towards the East and its great mysteries. There are ancient treaties in place with the deities of other lands that give those who rule over this season right of passage on this day only without being stopped and interrogated. Even so, they are not on her mind today as nimble legs take her down the mountain path she always uses, soon joined by any number of satyrs and nymphs, dryads raining down blossoms to pave her way with flowers.
In less than an hour, she has left Greece behind, hair streaming behind her like a banner, and runs right across the Caspian Sea into the southern tip of what used to be the USSR. Russia. Rus. Vikings. Her entourage has fallen behind, left somewhere in Turkey to make their own ways back to the sacred mountain, and while Eirene does occasionally wish for company on these annual treks -- she will not complain about her current observers - a dove soaring high above her.
It, too, veers away when she reaches China, darting through the rice fields and busy city streets alike -- Eirene runs through walls when she needs to, and no one is ever the wiser. She pauses momentarily on the eastern coast of Japan, gazing out at the blanket of ocean before her; its blue waters barely a shade darker than her eyes, feasting on the visual magnificence of all creation, and then she surges forward again, running lightly across the surface of the Pacific until she is nothing but a blur to mortal eyes. Fellow deities, any who might be awake, will probably see her as she passes.
Peace reaches the western tip of Hawaii barely three hours after she started her journey, and the coast of California barely an hour later. As with all the lands she has already moved across, her blessings fall on the flora and fauna that populate Gaea's surface as the incarnation of Spring. As the fertility goddess she fully becomes on this holiest of days, her presence may inspire a conception here and there amidst the human population that settled this continent so many years ago.
From Monterey to Denver and Charleston, her presence sweeps across America, kindling peace, love, understanding and rebirth, and the reverberations given back -- because people tend to send out good vibes when they're happy -- lift her right into the sky, until she's dancing on air with her arms open towards the sun in homage.
It's hours later, almost mid-afternoon when her feet once again touch soil, bare toes wriggling happily in the dirty street in front of her own temple. Ara Pacis. Altar of Peace. She strides up the cracked steps, noting that someone tried to sweep out some of the dust and dirt from what is now considered a crumbling relic of the Roman empire, and it's so easy to visualize what it once looked like -- the bright murals, the flowers, the children playing hide and seek just outside while their parents left offerings. There are a few now, older women who cross themselves with the sign of the more modern religion but leave flowers to the 'Lady of Peace' anyway.
Eirene leaves the temple a short while later, skipping easily across the waters to Greece. It is here she wades into the sea with an offering of flowers and blood (her own, palm nicked by the sharpest rock she could find). Mother Earth, Gaea, Grandmother, is also given her offering of blood to avert the End for another year. Tradition. Old habits. The walk back to Olympus takes only a short while, so she can dance with the nymphs and dryads and satyrs and celebrate the awakening of Earth.
A god's definition of time differs remarkably from a mortal's, so it is barely noon when Spring excuses herself from the ageless, frenetic dance and heads toward the shack at the bottom of the mountain. Inside she will find family and friends, and the chance to enjoy herself.