Chapter 213: Holy Festival of Light
Three days after Owain’s hunting party returned to the Summer Villa, Diarmuid made his way through the bustling grounds of the fortress-like temple at the heart of Lothian City with a determined stride.
All around him, everyone from common acolytes to particularly devout lay people worked energetically at a variety of tasks from the construction of stages to scrubbing the stonework of the fortress walls, everyone went about their work with a sense of joy and reverence.
Soon, the Summer Solstice would arrive and with it, the Holy Festival of Lights would begin a week-long holiday filled with a combination of festive revels and pious observances. Many initiates who wished to enter the Church formally waited for this special holiday to take their oaths and begin their new life of service to the Holy Lord of Light.
Loman Lothian was no different than his brothers and sisters of the cloth. As the man who championed doing more outreach from the Church to the common folks, he had been given responsibility for overseeing the wide array of events that would be open to the public.
"Your festival is much livelier here than it is in the Holy City," Diarmuid commented when he finally found the younger Lothian lord. Surprisingly, when he found Loman, the young priest was kneeling in the grass with a group of children, explaining how to tell the difference between weeds that must be pulled from the gardens and young spring flowers that had yet to bloom.
"Remember," Loman said patiently. "Weeds are like wicked thoughts that come from demons who would twist our hearts. They may resemble pretty flowers if allowed to bloom, but they will choke out the other flowers that have been planted to honor the Holy Lord of Light."
"You must carefully pull out the weeds, just as you pull out angry or hateful thoughts from your heart," he explained. "When you’re done, all that remains will be a healthy and beautiful garden. It’s a small struggle, to clear the weeds from the garden and to pull the hurtful thoughts from your heart, but I know that each of you can meet your struggle, can’t you?"
"Yes, Brother Loman!" the children cried with eager smiles on their faces.
"Good, now go pull out the weeds by their roots, don’t leave any behind," Loman said, standing up and patting the dirt and grass off of his white and gold robes. "When you’re done, if you’ve done a good job, there will be cookies waiting for you. In life, a man who meets his struggles reaps many rewards and this is no different.