TEUTONIC MAGIC - Awaken Video

farther or nearer to you. The day grows warmer as you ride down from the mountains over a rocky field
to the coast. You can see little thatched farmhouses in the distance and people dressed in plain tunics and
breeches beginning the day’s work in the fields.
Your horse bears you down to the seashore, its hoofbeats as regular and rhythmic in the damp sand
as they were on the road. A crisp breeze is blowing off the ocean, stirring up the waves. You can see a
small boat keeping pace with you over the water, rising and falling in a measured pattern. Circling up
from the shore, you ride past rich and fruitful fields. The wheat is high and just beginning td ripen, green
tinged with gold. As you turn towards the western coast, you see the farmers going in for their midday
meal. A cool, damp breeze blows from the sea ahead of you; the little boat is rounding the curve of the
land, still keeping pace with you and the sun.
As you ride up towards the northwest the land begins to become rockier again. You can hear things
slithering and moving be- hind the boulders, and every so often a dark tail or paw whisks swiftly into a
hole, but none of the hidden creatures dare to come near the road.
A cold, sharp wind cuts through the lingering warmth of summer as you ride. The day is beginning
to darken as the sun sinks and the farmers go in for their evening meal. You are beginning to grow tired,
but the pounding rhythm of the horse’s hooves beneath you strengthens you and carries you onward.
A wolf’s howl rises from the mountains around you, answered by another and another. Several
gray shapes slip out of the rocks behind you. The wolves follow you along the sides of the road, waiting
for your horse to miss a step. Past the wolves are other things, murky black shadows waiting and
whispering. Their voices get louder, calling your name. You hear the voices of your parents and of friends
from the past in the darkness, begging you to turn aside. Staring down at the faintly glimmering path
before you, you guide your horse along without turning or breaking the rhythm of its hooves.
Clawed hands reach out along the side of the road as if to drag you down. You see glowing green
eyes in twisted faces and foxfire glinting off shark-sharp teeth as the thousands of nameless dwellers in
the dark howl and yammer around you. You know that to turn from the road or break the rhythm of your
riding is to be lost forever among this horde of dark things. Over and over you chant the name of the
road-rune to ward yourself: raidho, raidho, raidho.Ahead of you, you can see a faint gleaming; your road
has brought you spiraling upward into the air, so that the jagged dark peaks are shadows in the night far
below you. The creatures following you begin to drop back as you draw nearer to the source of the light.
At first you think that you are coming towards the sun; but as you get near enough to see through the
golden gleaming, you see that it is a silver-roofed hall upheld by glowing pillars of gold from which the
light and summery warmth radiate. The walls are open. Within you see a fair-featured man with golden
hair and beard, seated on a raised throne before a clear spring of water. He holds an oaken staff in one
hand, beckoning to you with it. He does not speak as you come before him, but dips up some of the water
in his free palm and drinks of it. You do likewise, dismounting and drinking of the spring in holy silence.
This man, whom you now know as Forseti, god of righteousness, smiles at you and traces the rune raidho
over your heart with the tip of his staff. He points to a second path from his hall, which leads straight
downward through the light of the sunrise. You bow in respect and thanks and mount your horse again,
riding down to your body on the earth. Closing your eyes, you hear the hoofbeats of your horse soften to
the beating of a drum, until you can hear nothing but your own heart beating. You are back in your own
body, your feet planted firmly on the earth, holding the power of raidho with Forseti’s blessing.
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