The notices are not found along the paths.
They are found where the paths have been forgotten.
A Keeper of the Grove may pass beneath the same ancient trees a hundred times without seeing anything unusual. Yet, when the forest has something to say, the signs reveal themselves only to those who know how to look.
A scrap of parchment may be tucked beneath the curling roots of an old oak, where no ordinary traveler would think to search. Another may rest within the hollow of a fallen tree, concealed behind moss and damp leaves. Some are fastened high upon weathered trunks, hidden among the branches and ivy. Others lie beside secluded streams, beneath stones that seem undisturbed.
There is no obvious trail leading to them.
The forest simply seems to allow the Keeper to notice.
At first, there may be nothing more than the faintest green glimmer between the shadows.
Then the runes begin to appear.
One by one, ancient green markings awaken across the parchment, their soft radiance bleeding through the darkness like moonlight beneath deep water. The symbols do not burn the page. They seem instead to live within it, pulsing faintly with the rhythm of something breathing.
The surrounding forest grows strangely quiet.
Leaves cease their whispering.
The insects fall still.
Even the wind seems to pause.
For a moment, there is only the muted green light of the runes illuminating the bark, moss, and surrounding ferns.
The writing is unmistakably intended for the Druids.
To anyone else, the notice might appear blank, weathered, or perhaps nothing more than an ordinary piece of parchment. But to a Keeper, the words are clear.
The runes glow brighter as they are read, as though recognizing the one who has found them.
And when the final word has been understood, the light slowly fades.
The forest breathes again.
The leaves stir.
The insects resume their song.
Nothing remains to suggest that the notice was ever there except the parchment itself, waiting quietly for the next Keeper who is meant to find it.
A Letter Beneath the Growing Moon
From Sister Willow, Keeper of the Grove
To my Sisters and Brethren of the Grove,
I write while the Moon is still gathering her light.
There is time yet before she begins to wane, and I would have us use that time wisely.
The creature we faced has fallen. For that, we may give thanks. But I do not believe that its death marks the end of what occurred within our Grove.
The land remembers.
The trees remember what passed beneath their branches. The soil remembers where blood was spilled. The waters have carried away what they could, yet there are things that water alone cannot wash away.
And those of us who stood against the creature may carry something of that encounter within ourselves as well.
The beast is gone. Its shadow may not yet be.
Therefore, when the Moon reaches her Waning Gibbous, I intend to gather the Keepers, and any others who feel called to join us, for a rite of cleansing.
This will not be a warding.
It will not bind the Grove, establish a barrier, or prepare it against some future enemy. That work belongs to another time and another rite.
This gathering shall have one purpose:
If you wish to stand with us, I ask that you seek me out before the appointed night.To cleanse what was left behind and return the Grove, its land, and its people to harmony.
What We Shall Prepare
When the time comes, we shall gather within the Grove in silence.
At the center of our circle I shall place four representations of the Elements.
Earth shall stand in the North, represented by a stone.
Air shall stand in the East, represented by a feather, leaves, or a small bell.
Fire shall stand in the South, represented by a living flame.
Water shall stand in the West, represented by a vessel of clean water.
At the heart of these shall rest a living branch or plant, representing Spirit and the living Grove itself.
We shall need little else.
The Grove provides much of what we require.
When the Waning Moon Comes
I shall open the circle and call first upon the Four Directions.
To the East, we shall ask the Winds to carry away the whispers and lingering influence of the creature.
To the South, we shall ask Fire to transform what cannot be healed.
To the West, we shall ask Water to wash the wounds of the land and those who fought.
To the North, we shall ask Earth to receive what must be buried and returned to the turning of nature.
Together we shall speak:
"Earth receives.
Water cleanses.
Fire transforms.
Wind carries.
Spirit restores."
We Shall Call Upon the Gods
When the Elements have been welcomed, we shall turn our prayers toward the gods.
Aldarwen shall be called first, for the Grove itself.
We shall ask the Verdant Heart to restore what has been wounded, purify what has been fouled, and drive corruption from the living land.
Fanyarnir shall be called beneath the Waning Moon.
As the Moon's light diminishes, so shall we ask that the influence of the creature diminish with it. What has disturbed the natural balance shall be returned to harmony.
Dovaros shall be called for those who stood against the beast.
We shall ask that courage remain with us while fear departs, and that those who fought may leave the battle behind without carrying its darkness with them.
Verilion shall be called as the Eternal Sentinel.
We shall ask him to reveal whatever remains hidden — beneath the soil, within the trees, upon the waters, or within our own spirits.
Nothing of the creature should remain concealed from the cleansing.
Then we shall turn toward the human gods.
Adalia shall be called to heal the wounded, both in body and spirit.
Kamalini shall be called to shelter the weary and nurture what within us has been left fragile.
Talathas shall be called to guide those whose spirits may have wandered too close to the darkness, that none remain spiritually trapped within the place of battle.
And Kinurugi shall be called to steady us — to give firm ground beneath the feet of those who have been shaken.
The Cleansing of the Grove
Once the gods have heard us, we shall walk the Grove together.
Where the creature has wounded the land, we shall tend it.
Where it has disturbed the soil, we shall restore it.
Where its influence remains, we shall cleanse it.
Water shall be returned to wounded earth.
Fire shall transform what cannot be restored.
Wind shall carry away what should no longer remain.
Earth shall receive what must be buried.
And where there is nothing for our hands to mend, we shall have the wisdom to leave it untouched.
For cleansing does not mean erasing every memory.
Sometimes healing means allowing the land to remember — and teaching it that it is safe to live again.
The Cleansing of Those Who Fought
Those who stood against the creature shall then be invited forward.
Water shall touch the brow.
Water shall touch the heart."May your sight be cleansed."
Water shall touch the hands."May your spirit be cleansed."
And I shall say:"May your deeds be cleansed."
Those who wish may answer:"What the darkness placed upon you, you need not carry."
No one will be required to speak of wounds they are not ready to name."I release it."
The Grove asks only that we release what we are ready to lay down.
When the Work Is Done
At the end, we shall return to the heart of the Grove.
With our hands upon the earth, we shall call upon it to remember itself.
We shall ask the roots to drink deeply."You were here before the creature.
You shall remain after it.
Its passing does not define you."
The branches to reach again.
The waters to run clear.
The creatures to return.
And beneath the waning Moon, we shall give the darkness back to the darkness.
"Let it wane.
Let it diminish.
Let it depart."
The Circle Will Then Be Opened
We shall thank the Elements.
Earth shall receive what remains.
Water shall return to the soil.
Fire shall be allowed to rest.
Wind shall be released upon the world.
The gods shall be thanked for their presence, and their attention released.
Then I shall walk the circle and open it.
There shall be no ward left behind.
No binding.
No permanent boundary.
Only a Grove cleansed of what has troubled it, and people given the chance to leave the battle where it belongs.
Before we depart, I shall say:
And finally:"We came carrying what the battle left behind.
We leave carrying only ourselves."
"The circle is open.
The Grove remains."
So, my Sisters and Brethren, while the Moon is still waxing, prepare yourselves.
Think upon what you wish to leave behind.
Consider whether there is something you have carried from the battle that you no longer wish to carry.
And if you feel called to stand beside us beneath the Waning Gibbous, seek me out.
Bring no elaborate offering.
Bring no weapon for ceremony.
Bring only yourself, and if you wish, something simple and natural that may be returned to the Grove.
There is no need to hurry.
The Moon is still growing.
We shall gather when she begins to give her light away.
May Aldarwen restore what has been wounded.
May Fanyarnir return what has been disturbed to balance.
May Dovaros strengthen those who endured.
May Verilion reveal what remains hidden.
May Adalia heal.
May Kamalini nurture.
May Talathas guide.
May Kinurugi steady.
And when the time comes, may the waning Moon carry the last shadow of this creature away from our home.
— Sister Willow
A Keeper of the Grove