Here is a story I wrote in 2013.
The Man at Drombeg
The time had come. Darkness had been stretching longer and longer each day, bitter wind and freezing rain had plagued their community, and, when the light went out tonight, the darkness would stretch on longer than it had in a long time. That is when he would be at his most powerful, his most dangerous. If his power was not contained, the light might never return to them, and their way of life would perish.
The stone circle was usually enough to contain him, but it was during this time that he need more chains. Ages ago this man called upon the darkness to ruin their crops, and chase away the animals. They had gathered together then to bring an end to him. The holy man at the time had performed the entire ceremony himself, including the swinging of the axe. Now though, there were none left who had been at the ceremony, none who could directly recount how the man had come to his death, how gruesome it was to fit his gruesome crimes, but the stories remained.
They knew that the evil within the man had been purified by a holy pyre, making use of the giving power of the light to drive out the darkness.
They knew that only the dead could hold the dead, so the vessel the remains had been put in had been killed by first removing the bottom and then by shattering the rim, killing it in the way the man had been. A pure shroud was wrapped around the vessel so that no remains of the man would be left above ground to contaminate their soil in death, as the man had done in life. They placed him in a circle of stones, for stones had never been alive, and thus had always been dead.
They knew that he would try to escape, so the larger pieces that remained after the fire were the first to go into the pot, sprinkles of the sacred pyre had been added in the hope of quenching his power further, for they all knew that darkness could never fully be expelled even through death. Burnt stones from the fire were also added to weigh down the burial, and the buried’s power even further.
They covered the remains with pure soil, packed tightly to imprison him once again. Another sprinkle of the pyre was added to seal the burial with the power of the light, for the man could only harness the power of the dark. The burial was covered once more, sealed off so that no one would go digging to release the wretch again. Finally, the floor of the stone circle, which had been cleared of all the plant life they could see, was covered over with more stones. A few of the stones shone and sparkled with the light, it was hoped that they would draw the power of the light to help with the containment of this powerful man.
However, they also knew that as the darkness descended, he might be able to gain enough power to break free once more, despite all of their rituals that were enough to keep him in place during the rest of the light cycle. The time was drawing nearer and nearer for the ceremony, the ceremony to restore the balance of light and dark. They needed that balance, not only for the sake of their beloved light, but for the sake of keeping the man imprisoned.
Their holy man and his apprentices lived but a few lengths away from the stone circle. They spent time maintaining the circle, ensuring that no life grew within it. At their stone hut they carefully tracked the patterns of the light, to reassure that balance was maintained, and that balance was not upset permanently on this night.
The smells of cooking meat now filled the air, cutting through the bitter cold and giving all gathered a sense of comfort. The holy man was preparing a wild pig in the roasting oven, connected to the stone hut, taking care to cook it evenly. It was crucial that everything be balanced as the ceremony was all about balance, balance that needed to be restored.
The apprentices, after helping the holy man, began walking down the short stone causeway to a larger cooking site. They said quiet prayers as they carefully crossed branches and sticks, the living, over rocks, the dead. Once they had started the great fire, they continued to pray for the balance to be restored, but silently now, for a great period of time, allowing the community to gather around the cooking site.
When the light had given life to the stones, two of the apprentices used long sticks to place them in the water, which the third apprentice continued to pray over. The water surged with the power of the light. The third apprentice stopped his praying to go out amongst the crowd and receive their offerings of meat. They had all brought what they could, knowing that the need was never greater. When he had as much as he could carry, he added it to the roiling water, the crowd watching in anticipation for when they would partake of the holy feast.
The water settled before long, but the crowd was getting anxious. The light was slipping lower and lower in the sky and their part in the ceremony had yet to begin. The apprentices found the holy man, praying in their hut. Together they took the pig to the larger cooking site where they fished out the chunks of meat from the still hot water. They laid them out on a pure length of animal hide in a circle. It was only then that the crowd was invited to step forward and take pieces.
Once everyone had a piece of meat, they walked to the stone circle, waiting only a moment for the holy man to fill two wooden cups with the warm water. There they aligned themselves with the perimeter of the stones. Two people stood on the outside of each stone, with the exception of the holy man and his apprentices, who gathered around the longest slab of stone where the holy man placed the two cups in cut marks. Only the rushing of the cold wind could be heard before the holy man began to speak. He gave out instructions that all of those gathered either knew by heart, or were still too young to understand. Nevertheless, they all consumed their meat in silence, adding power to their living spirits as they surrounded the dead one.
The wind howled again as the holy man turned to face the hills. Soon the light would dip low enough to illuminate straight through the stone circle. He called forth the oldest man and the oldest woman from those gathered. They stepped forward silently, faces set in determination. The holy man spoke a few quiet words to them, sprinkling a few drops of water on them from one of the cups. He then called for the parents of the youngest boy and the youngest girl. The children were then handed to their elder counterparts, after being sprinkled with water from the other cup, as they stepped into the circle. They stood in front of two particular stones. The woman and the small girl stood in front of the stone that represented their power, while the man, who had some difficulty walking, held the hand of the young boy as they stood in front of theirs.
The holy man spoke of the balance of this act, of young and old, male and female. He spoke of the mark on the slab, representing the axe that took the dead one’s life, speaking to the death that someone had to make, in order to balance their lives. For it was only with the balance of all forces, even light and dark, could their lives be maintained. They all knew that tonight there was a risk for that balance to be permanently upset.
With another gust of wind the holy man cried, hands raised to the sky, asking for the light to be returned to them. All of those gathered, save the four in the circle, turned their back to the setting light, silently praying that they would soon see it return on the opposite side of the valley. He lowered his hands to grab those of the two apprentices next to him. They followed suit until all around the circle were joined. The man and the woman in the circle had clasped hands as well, turning to face the light as it began to slip below the hills. They spoke words of praise to the light until it was almost gone from view. They fell silent as the golden beams of light drove past the slab and through the circle, illuminating it with the last bits of warmth before what they all knew would be a long night.
When that light had disappeared they all grasped their hands tighter as they hoped, and prayed, as they watched, backs to the hills, waiting for the darkness to be abated by tendrils of their beloved light.
(Prompt by an archaeology professor but encouraged by Emily Kleeman)
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