Taurus I: The Weight of Her Mantle

Written & voiced by HannahRae Stevens

The sun cast sheets of gold across rippling fields of flaxen amber, glistening emerald, and rich chestnut, its waking rays catching in the light mist that still clung to the sloping mountainside. The morning glow danced softly in the oak and pine trees surrounding the sleepy village, where tufts of white smoke were only just beginning to climb out of chimneys towards the saffron-tinted sky. 

The tinkling of distant bells made Mira’s lips curl upward as she stepped into the ochre of the morning. She could feel the dew collecting on the hem of her skirt as she made her way through the grass towards the dirt road, its cool dampness against her ankles a jarring contrast to the warmth of the cresting sunglow that fell on her cheeks.

A light breeze teased at the stone chime that hung from the cottage roof. She stopped to watch as a passing bee dodged the cacophonous bits of pottery and stones her sister had hung last summer. Their melody joined the bells on the wind, coloring the morning with a wandering accompaniment to the bird’s ongoing opera, which they had been staging since long before dawn. 

Image via Pexels

Despite the early hours, the village was already alive and moving. The scent of honey and sizzling meat wafted on the breeze from Mama Cassi’s, tempting Mira to stop in for a bite on her way to the pastures. Temptation only lasted for a brief moment before Mama Cassi’s signature shrill complaint cut through the peaceful timbre of the morning. Mira smiled to herself as she carefully dodged the open windows of her neighbor’s home, knowing it would be hours before she escaped the conspiratorial gossip she was sure to encounter if Cassi was to spot her. On another morning, perhaps she would have indulged the village matriarch in exchange for her delicious cooking. But today there was no time to spare.

Wreaths of green and ribbons of white adorned the doors and windows of the village homes, lovingly woven and meticulously placed. Mira shook her head at the particular placement - the wreaths perfectly centered, the bows & ribbons carefully measured, and the flowers all in full bloom, free from a single wilted petal. Just as the priestesses planned, she imagined. 

“Lady’s Mantle never seems as… symmetrical as it does just before the Spring Harvest, does it?”  A familiar voice jarred Mira from her thoughts. 

“You’d better have more symmetrical attire planned for the King’s arrival unless you want the priestesses to bind you in the finest bow of all!” Mira smiled and made her way over to the tree stump where her old friend rested an axe on her shoulder and a hand on her hip.

“What, this isn’t symmetrical enough for you?” She gestured with her free hand to the men’s shirt she wore, stained with grass and sweat and patched in several places with mismatching fabrics. It was halfway tucked into a loose pair of tawny trousers that were worn at the knees and- were those two different shoes?

Mira raised a single brow at her with a smirk. “Andra, you look like you got dressed in the dark.”

Andra rolled her midnight eyes and tucked a stray curl behind her ear. “It’s barely dawn, Mira, of course I got dressed in the dark.” With a huff and a hint of a smile, she hoisted the axe from her shoulder and put another log on the stump. “We have plenty of time to become symmetrical before the festival begins - don’t worry yourself.” A single powerful swing split the log in half.

Mira chuckled. “Well, I look forward to seeing the finished look at the Welcoming.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me.” Andra cast the halves of her freshly split log onto the growing pile beside her with barely cloaked disdain. She cocked her head as her brows knit together. “You didn’t happen to see what my mother is wearing, did you?”

Mira pursed her lips and shook her head. “I ducked under the window so she didn’t see me pass.”

Andra cracked a coy smile. Despite its chagrin, that smile could have lit the entire village on winter’s longest night. “A wise choice on such a morning!”

“I thought as much. Speaking of, I should probably be on my way. But before I go,” Mira pulled a delicate garland of white, pink, and periwinkle flowers from her basket and placed it on her friend’s crown of soft raven curls. 

Andra’s eyes softened, her shoulders dropping ever so slightly under Mira’s gentle touch. Mira marvelled at her friend’s austere countenance, so rarely giving way to the tenderness just beneath the surface. Save for the village children who revered her and the cow herds who unceremoniously gawked when she passed, few bore witness to the wealth of her warmth. She was careful who she shared that softness with lately.

Mira cupped Andra’s velvety almond cheek. “You’ll match with Elaine perfectly.”

Andra barked out a laugh that startled the birds resting on her nearby roof. They fluttered in tandem with her amusement, settling as Mira backed away with a mischievous wave of her fingers. 

“Well give Miss Elaine my love and let her know it is my honor to match with the likes of her Ladyship!” Andra gave an exaggerated curtsy as Mira returned to the path and made for the pastures.

As the yellow morning sky faded into brilliant azure, the people of Lady’s Mantle began to bloom as brightly as the flowers on their doors. Chickens wandered across the well-trodden dirt road that wound through the village,  traveling from garden to garden to gorge themselves on unguarded strawberries. Mothers with their hair still loose chased squealing children through the grass with brushes and combs. Cow herders made their way to the pastures in pairs, pulling at the stiff collars of their freshly pressed shirts. White-robed priestesses bustled from door to door, making last-minute adjustments and adornments.

The air of celebration felt different this year. The last annual Spring Harvest festival had been less of a joyous reaping and more of a desperate culling. Both the King and his High Sorceress had come to face the Great Dragon that had been terrorizing the pastures, crops and hillsides of the Jade Peaks, joining the villagers in their tired defence. They had done well in steering the beast away from the village of Lady’s Mantle, but the crops had suffered greatly, plunging the entire kingdom into a year of rationing & famine. 

But now, with the Dragon banished to the Red Desert and the village’s harvest once again bountiful, Mira could practically taste the sweetness of hope in the air. 

Once she had passed the last cottage, the road pitched upwards and the trees began to thin. Separated a bit from the cow herds ahead of her, she relished the feel of the gentle incline. She had made this climb every day for most of her life, and yet the feeling of the slow climb never lost its magic. Nor did the view she was rewarded with when she reached the top.

The verdant mountainside sloped down before pitching up again into a continuous wave of majestic peaks. The hills closest to the village were lush with crops in the height of the growing season, while the higher ones beyond kissed the clouds with snow-capped summits. Russet brown cows milled the hillside before her, their long hair dancing in the morning breeze as they grazed.

Mira leaned against the old wooden fence that bordered the dirt road, taking in the majesty of the landscape before her. Each morning without fail, it stole her breath away with wonder. She didn’t know how anyone could leave this place.

“Miss Mira!” A streak of brown and white and blue was suddenly tearing across the field, startling several calves into a witless game of tag. 

“Mister Xander!” Mira put her basket down just in time for the child to crash into her in a fierce embrace, nearly knocking her over before turning his chocolate-brown eyes up to gaze at her in horror. 

“I have to tell you something.” He said it in an urgent whisper. “But my mother said I shouldn’t.”

Mira pulled away just enough to get to her knees before him. “Your mother is a very wise woman…” She gave him a wink, “...but I am pretty good at keeping secrets if I do say so myself.”

His eyes widened as he leaned in and whispered, “I saw the Dread Keeper.”

Mira’s stomach went ice cold. The shadows around her suddenly felt heavy, as if they were drinking in the warmth of the sun while they remained long and distended in the morning light. She quickly erased any flicker of worry from her face, instead raising her brows dramatically and whispering to the child, “Mother help us!” She put a hand to her chest, trying to ignore the sudden racing beneath her palm. “Do you think it an omen?”

He nodded his head furiously. “I tried to tell my mother that we have to cancel the Welcoming! We can’t have the King come here when the Dread Keeper is waiting in the Woods! What if he tried to steal the King’s light and suck his soul out and use his evil shadow magic and brain-bending powers to erase his Majesty’s memory and-”

“My, the Dread Keeper seems to become even more powerful each time you tell me of him!” Mira stopped his panicked ramble with a kind laugh, if a bit hollow. Movement in the field behind Xander distracted Mira for a moment. She gave a subtle nod to the figure approaching before turning her attention back to the boy, his eyes still wide and frenzied.

“Now what if I told you that I was actually here to weave a little bit of magic to keep both our friends here in the pasture and the village safe?” 

His eyes seemed to become impossibly wider. “You can do magic?”

Mira chuckled. “Not exactly, but I have some friends who do. And they helped me weave some protective charms into these!” She gestured to her wicker basket overflowing with floral garlands. “Would you like to help me prepare our friends for the festival?”

Xander nodded furiously once again, this time with a smile, his anxieties seemingly forgotten for the moment. Mira straightened just as the approaching figure reached the pair. A mass of chestnut coils shrouded her soft cinnamon shoulders, sunlight forming a golden halo behind her as she placed a hand on Xander’s shoulder.

“What a lovely offer. What do you say, Xander?” His mother’s voice was as warm as coffee and as soft as a rose petal, lazing in an almost hypnotic lilt.

“I said yes!” He furrowed his brow at her as if it had been obvious. 

Mira bit back laughter as she retrieved a garland and pointed to a nearby calf. “Why don’t you start with Calla?” Xander took the garland with a grin and made off for the wobbly young calf who was all too happy to restart her game of tag.

“Thank you.” Xander’s mother moved to stand beside Mira as they both watched the boy play with the calves, his mission quickly forgotten. “He’s been shaken all morning.”

“Of course,” Mira murmured. They stood in silence for a long moment until she couldn’t take it any longer. “Did he truly come so close to the village?” she finally whispered.

She felt Talliah stiffen beside her. After a pause, she said lowly, “Standing at the edge of the grove this morning. He wants an audience with the King.”

Mira whipped her head to look at the emerald-clad acolyte beside her. “An audience?”

Talliah nodded, her lips tight. “I made an offering to appease him until the Festival is over, but he will have his meeting.” 

“Did he… say what he wanted?” Mira felt her forehead crease. She wasn’t quite sure that spirits actually spoke.

Talliah’s smile confirmed as much. “I’ve said it before, but the Dread Keeper seeks nothing more than recognition. If the priestesses were less concerned with aesthetic pretences and actually tried to cultivate an understanding of or, Mother forbid, a relationship with the stewards of their ‘Sacred Wood,’ perhaps we might cease to live in fear of the shadows.”

Mira stood in silence as she considered the acolyte’s words. Unlike the priestesses who cared for the Mother’s Temple within the Wood, Talliah was born and raised in the Wood itself. She knew the land’s people and its spirits better than anyone, even elders like Mama Cassi. While none knew exactly how she came into her talents, she was known far beyond the Peaks for her deep connection both to the land and the Mother, often sparking confusion, intrigue, and envy.

“One day, Mira of the Mantle, you will tell me how you are connected to the Keeper.” 

Mira froze. Talliah was known to speak cryptically. But to speak of Mira’s connection to the Dread Keeper… it was something not even she had accepted herself. She could not yet face the shadows that clung to her like familiar fabric, the figures in dreams that felt like terrifying old friends. The sightings. The whispers. The pricking on the back of her neck defied the seeming absence of watching eyes. The reason she had learned to craft protective charms in the first place.

Rather than bare her fears, she forced a chuckle. “I am not the oracle or acolyte, my Lady.” 

Talliah wrinkled her nose playfully. “We’ve known each other far too long for such titles.” She nodded to the ceremonial altar a couple of hundred yards down the hillside. “I had better get back before Priestess Saroya drowns the altar in trillium. Thank you, though. He values his time with you.” 

Mira nodded softly, words failing to find her tongue as Talliah made her way back down the hillside. Pushing aside thoughts of Dread and Shadow, she turned to see Xander finally managed to place a very wilted garland around the neck of his new best friend. With a pat on her head, he propelled himself back to Mira and her basket. 

“All done!” he beamed.

“Fantastic!” She shook the sudden coolness from her body. “Here, come help me with a very special one.” Handing him the basket, she led him across the hill to an overlook where a large russet cow lay quietly on her own, her round black gaze seemingly affixed on the horizon. She turned her head slowly to watch them approach, blinking lazily. 

“This is a very old friend,” Mira said as they reached the cow. She approached slowly, crooning, “Good morning, sweet girl.” She retrieved an apple she’d stowed in her pocket and offered it to Xander. “Would you like to give it to her? She’ll love you forever if you do.”

Xander put down the basket and held his hand out eagerly, his face alight with a toothy grin. Mira placed the apple in his open palm, which he quickly offered to the cow. She just as quickly took it from him, eliciting a giggle as her lips tickled his palm. “What’s her name?”

Mira fished out a massive garland of white, pink and periwinkle and gestured for Xander to come help her. Together, they placed it around her thick neck, adjusting it to sit just right. “Her name is Elaine.” Mira smiled and kissed the cow on the top of her head. “And Miss Elaine is going to help us welcome the King.”

The village bell began to peal, echoing across the hillside as voices raised in whoops and cheers and hollers that announced the King’s nearing arrival. “Up and at ‘em, Miss Elaine!” Mira patted the cow’s side as her fellow cow herds began to gather the rest of the herd, most adorned in similar garlands. The decorated herd would line the King’s path to the festival altar where one selected by his hand would bear the honor of feeding festival-goers for days to come. 

But as the morning shadows shortened, Elaine refused to move. 

After a few valiant yet futile efforts of force from Xander and a truly inspired speech from Mira, they looked at one another in exasperation. 

Mira shrugged and gathered her basket. “It seems Miss Elaine is taking her time today. Shall we deliver the rest of these garlands?” She could have sworn the child’s smile was shaded with relief. 

As they made their way down the hillside, donning russet necks with flowers as they passed, the pair sent silent prayers to the Mother, asking both that the King would leave Elaine to her quiet repose and that the Dread Shadows might remain hidden in the Wood until the King’s departure.

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About the Author

HannahRae (she/her) is an astrologer, alignment coach, & writer located in Philadelphia, PA. She has been practicing astrology since 2020 and is currently studying traditional techniques under Austin Coppock. She is also a founder & editor for Luminary Magazine - a digital astrology publication that invites readers to infuse their daily astrology practice with joy! Her practice focuses on implementing embodied astrology as the bridge to living a more easeful, honest, & magical life. In her free time, she can be found cooking, playing music or TTRPGs, or writing spicy fiction inspired by the transits.
Website: www.ilunastrology.com
Instagram: @ ilunastrology
Twitter / X: @ ilunastrology
Tiktok: @ ilunastrology
Luminary Magazine: www.luminarymagazine.carrd.co

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References

Chang, T. Susan. 36 Secrets: A Decanic Journey through the Minor Arcana of the Tarot. Lulu. 2020.

Chang, T. Susan. “Reading the Decans: Sacred Doubt [Taurus I].” 21 Apr. 2019. T. Susan Chang: All Tarot All the Time. Web. https://www.tsusanchang.com/blog/2019/4/21/reading-the-decans-faith-in-a-seed-taurus-i 

Coppock, Austin. 36 Faces: The History, Astrology and Magic of the Decans. Three Hands Press. 2014.

Houlding, Deborah. “Andromeda: the Chained Maiden.” Star Lore of the Constellations. First published in The Traditional Astrologer Magazine, issue 9; Summer 1995. Published online November 2006. https://www.skyscript.co.uk/andromeda.html 

Houlding, Deborah. “Cassiopeia: the Seated Queen.” Star Lore of the Constellations. First published in The Traditional Astrologer Magazine, issue 9; Summer 1995. Published online December 2006. https://www.skyscript.co.uk/cassiopeia.html 

Wright, Anne. The Fixed Stars. Astroweb.

https://www.constellationsofwords.com/