Thursday, September 15, 2016

Tears for Madron; cracking open the well within.

The dry well at Madron Chapel

Long long ago in a land called Kernow on the far western shores of a great island there lived a race of elves.
Kernow was then a place of majestic forests full of diverse and ancient trees.  The elves were wise in the ways of the dryads, the stone people and the healing waters.  They were the original peoples of the land and were equally at home in the middle world as they were in the under country below. 
The elves were a people of peace who honored the Divine Mother in all things.  Their name for Her is Madron.  Madron loved her elves and gifted them with sacred waters for the healing of all their ailments. 

One of the places they treasured most was a sacred well that had great power and deep wisdom.  They loved and tended that place with reverence and delighted in adorning the Willow tree with offerings of colorful cloths and jewels.  They named it Madron Well.

Time passed and the land changed.  Tribes from the north came by boat and began settling the land.  The forests were cut for homes and fields.  More tribes, more invasions, more people and buildings and roads, more noise and smell and less reverence for the land… and the elves were forced underground. 

With a large invasion came the church and their sun god the Christos.  Some of these people still respected the old ways and built their churches in places of pagan power.  For a while the Christos and the Madron were loved and honored equally. 

At Madron Well a small stone chapel was built.  In the front was an altar to the Sun and at the back was the ever flowing waters of the Mother.  The people came to remember the Divine in this place for hundreds of years and the stones retained their songs.

The followers of the Christos lost their way and turned against She who gave them life. They became sick of heart and did great damage to the people and land.  That is a story for another time… The old chapel at Madron was forgotten and fell into ruin for a long time, visited only by elves and pagans in the dark and safety of the night.  But still, the healing waters continued to flow. 

Times changed and the world got more and more crowded and out of balance.  A reckless monster fueled by fear and greed was unleashed upon the land and its people, devouring life and threatening to destroy any who dared to resist his voracious appetite.  Some of the spirits in the land recoiled to protect themselves.  At Madrons Chapel, the water stopped flowing for the first time in centuries. 

All the while the spirit of Madron remained deep in the hearts and blood of the people of peace. Like a well of remembrance her power was profound and abiding.  The time had come full circle.  She quickened her pulse in the land and more people began to awaken and return to the old ways of their ancestors. 

People returned to her waters.  Most came hoping to receive healing, vision, or guidance. But one group was different. They came in service to the Queen; the Madron. 

When they saw that the waters had stopped flowing into the chapel they were deeply affected and reached out to see how they might help.  They knew that in order to open the way for the flow to return they would have to sacrifice their own waters; their tears of love and loss for the world.  The women began keening and wailing; offering their tears into the stone lined well where the waters once pooled.  They cracked themselves open to find the well of sadness within.  The local nature spirits were pleased, and Briga their Go-Between jumped in to help. The men stood behind with deep respect, protection and love for the Goddess and in that moment something was made right. 

A few days later the harvest eclipse full moon rose and the magic that had been worked on that fateful day was completed.  The waters returned, Madron reclaimed her rightful throne, and the elves went on a mission of mischief making to quell the Monster... 

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