The Colours Fade (Solo)

[Jennifer Oakley]

The Colours Fade

1986

Jennifer and Faustus embraced, a longing yet emancipating clasp of like minded spirits and warm, tangled wool and fur. There was no time to explain, and little time to dwell on their decision, it simply had to be done. With a longing caress, she fondled his mane and he touched his wet nose to hers before they stepped back from one another and cast their gaze upwards.

"Are you ready?" She asked, her heart beating and her skin shining in the radiance of the midday sun. "There is no going back, no revoking of vows, no regrets..."

Faustus gruffly replied with a yes, and held out his arms and arched his back and neck upwards, a perfect mirror of his daughter, two souls pushed and drawn to one another atop the tallest heights of the Temple of the Nina. The grand complex rested in silence as a thousand eager druids and layman stared up in wonderment through the falling autumnal leaves and the halcyon rays of the zenith.

"Then let us part ways."

"Let us."

"Blessed be, father."

"Ashanti be praised, daughter."

With a lightning bolt and a fiery convocation, the altar shattered in two between them and they were repelled backwards. Their lifeless forms tumbled down either side of the dais, rolling down the steps in a flurry of arms, staves and ceremonial dress.

A silent breeze drifted through the tall moss laden pillars that stood scattered about the central altar, and with it travelled hushed whisperings and low chanting. The leaves of the sycamore trees and evergreen plumes wavered to and fro, and time seemed to slow and stretch about the momentum of the High Priestess's act.

As their heads fell with a crack to the ancient stone, and the last remnants of their bound lives drifted from their bodies, the chanting rose in pitch and slowly the entire complex became a welling throng of devotion. Higher and higher went the crowd's spirits, and louder and louder grew the ancient verse.

The sun crested at it's height and shone down onto the pan-optical mirror atop the altar, and in a split second, all was illuminated and golden. Separated by the towering steps, Jennifer and Faustus smiled like mannequins to the gods, their time on Althanas spent in the service of nature.

[Jennifer Oakley]

Without any indication of intent, the crowd split into two convex halves. To the right, surrounding the altar on Jennifer's half, the women of the conclave and the priestesses gathered. To the left, at the feet of Faustus the men, haggard and wise individuals and young, foolish braves clad in leaves and vines and all the intent of adventure.

"Haevos, evos, nemmos gammos!" The dual chorus rose up through the tree tops and intermingled with the dawn bird song. Slowly but surely, the crowd approached the two still figures and surrounded them with gentle, searching hands.

As the chorus grew, they plucked up the corpses, still warm and beating with the fading remnants of life and bore them aloft above their heads. As the sun reached the midday stance, they turned the bodies into parallel alignment and rocked them back and forth as if they were floating on an ocean wave.

"Our mother," proclaimed the men.

"Our father," proclaimed the women, their roles crossed and confused by the indistinguishable duality of the spirit.

The wave of bronzed skin and silk rose up the first few steps of the altar, beginning the ancient ritual of rebirth with a slow reuniting advance between family and lovers. The metaphor, as obscure as it was to all but those initiated into the Order of Nina rang out through the forest.

"Let winter be known, let summer be forgotten, let spring reside and autumn reign."

As the chorus dimmed, the two halves of the crowd found themselves reunited at the apex of the altar, as they laid to rest Jennifer and Faustus on the cracked stone. Jennifer came to rest with her head North, and the faun South, semi-curled to form a slightly elongated circle; a cyclical symbol of life.

"Let nature be the judge - let Althanas and Y'edda preside."

With shuffled feet and hushed tones, the conclave withdrew from the altar and returned to their positions amongst the columns and branches, the leaves and the sunlight.