An Ostara Tale I
The wanderers came across a clearing, infinite with mirrors. Casting about, they struck a faerie fire, dark and wonderful with potential. There they cleansed a new pentacle and blessed it – a molten slab of dwarven steel cast into oak, shimmer-silver pentagram twinkling from an eternity grounded into meadow rich with possibility. Then suddenly, the mirrors vanished and became a garden and at once, a Phœnix erupted from the fire and was reborn! The wanderers rejoiced, for was this not Ostara? Much laughter and merriment followed as twinkling eye and cheerful song rang bright into the forest. They supped on cakes made by the hand of the Goddess and the Lord himself blessed their ale! What a joyful time of year, to discover wings, a stout pair of boots and the light of Athena all at once!