A Taste of the Moon

Six bodies gathered in a tucked-away grove. Despite being surrounded by the concrete of the city, nature had its places in Tacoma, such as within the tight park of Point Defiance.

Three of the bodies were sitting, legs and arms crossed in dutiful, intense contemplation, chants leaking from their lips. The other three were standing, humming and vocalizing in tune with the chanting, as a bright full moon shone overhead.

All six, standing and sitting alike, were draped in deep emerald green cloaks and had silver chalices at their feet, currently empty.

Then, with a sudden end, the chanting and singing stopped. There was pure silence in that dark night. The wind did not howl, the boughs did not creak, and the wildlife merely sat and watched.

The central standing woman stepped forward, bending at the knee to grab her chalice. 

"Tonight, we gather to receive the triplicate strength! That of those above us, that of those beside us, and that of those beneath us." Her voice boomed, but no sound escaped the choking leaves of the grove. As she listed those she invoked, three previously unlit candles sparked to life with the flick of her wrist, with the sound of a bird chirp being their only sign.

"Selene in heaven, Artemis on the earth, Hecate in the underworld." The three standing figures said in concert, the candles reaching higher.

"Tonight, we call upon the forces of the land and of the skies, that which nurtures, supports, and surrounds us all." The front-most seated individual said, grasping their chalice in both hands, as three of their own candles lit as well. The earth shook with their words, with a ripple of air reverberating within the chalices.

"The Wyld, we serve. The Weaver, we observe. The Wyrm, we destroy." The three sitting figures said in unison, their candles mingling together.

"Both we, who observe the net of reality and its rivers," The standing woman began.

"And we, who are born of and given noble purpose by life itself," the kneeling figure continued.

"We give praise and thanks to Gaia, mother of us all, and the bounties she provides! May she continue to invigorate our daily lives." All six in attendance spoke this together.

"And now," The central standing woman began to speak, as the moon glows unnaturally brighter. "May we be blessed and provided for once more." Her boom turned to a supplicant whisper, as she reached her hand up to the moon.

The leader's hood fell back on its own, almost as if weighed down by moonbeams, and the other five removed theirs in turn, letting the light of the moon fall over their varied features. As eyes and drawn-on markings gleamed in the light, the faint sound of chirping filled the air. 

The chalices filled with crystalline water, the metal humming a resonant note as it did, and the spirits of birds and winged insects flitted through the air, weaving between the beams as they circled the grove.

As the glasses were filled, the extraneous ephemeral effects slowly faded, and silence and darkness returned to the grove.

The crescendo of magic faded, but all in attendance were still enthralled, as they raised their chalices high. Those who were seated stood up, and the leaders of both trios shook hands, looking eye-to-eye.

"You namebreakers might not always do the best, but you sure know how to work a ceremony!" The Philodox said with an earnest chuckle.

"And I thank you, fellow worshiper of Gaia, for your assistance with our ritual. It is not easy to overcome the Weakness, but we who connect with nature fare better together." The Verbena Elder returned.

"Yeah, I suppose we do. Perhaps, if we are in need of outside assistance, we shall call upon you as you have called upon us."

"It would be my circle's greatest honor." The awakened bowed, making sure to not spill any liquid from the chalice.

As she rose, all six raised their glasses and drank.

Soon enough, the three Garou in attendance departed for the night's other duties, while the Verbena stayed to enjoy the sensations of the forest.

"I didn't expect it to taste like cherry lemonade!" A younger member of the circle piped up, still savoring the aftertaste from the ritual.

"What'd you think it'd taste like?" Another member, smoking a hand-rolled joint, asked.

Silence filled the space as the young girl averted her gaze.

"Did you think it'd taste like-"

"Definitely not cheese!"

"Well, I didn't expect the Lycans to join us. I thought they hated mages?" The smoker said, leaning back on the soft dirt, letting the previous comment fall to the wayside.

"Both thoughts are constructed from internal opinions, my daughters." The leader said, circling her finger around the rim of the chalice. "The gift of the moon comes to us in whatever flavor is pleasant to us, so long as the ritual is done properly, and invigorates us with its strength."

"How the Garou view us, as well, depends on what is done properly. For those who twist and change and ignore nature, they are detestable. But we Verbena whose practice leans so closely to nature, we meet on more ground than we fight on. We are both children of the earth, wishing to grab a taste of the moon."

A more reverent silence passed over the grove.

"...Which meaaans?" The smoker asked.

"It means I was very convincing and they realized we weren't total assholes." The matron relented with a smirk and a roll of the eyes, as the smoking mage laughed in response.