When the mists clear, you are greeted by two people, a man and a woman. The man is tall and large, robed in a blue so deep it seems to shift from blue to black with each motion or shift of the mists. His long dark hair, shot with silver, flows over his shoulders, and his grey eyes are bright with the mischief of a child, yet dark with the mysteries of the waters.

To his left stands a woman. Her robe is emerald... no, violet... like the mists, it defies definition. She is short, stocky, short brown hair catching the light from the bonfire in flashes of copper, seafoam eyes reflecting the glory of the green earth and the white moon among the stars.

The scent of incense and smoke are stronger now. You see the dancing flames throw shadowed patterns against the trees whose limbs bend above the fire. The smoke blends with the curling wisp of incense which rises from the censer in the man's hand.

The man steps forward to greet you, censer raised to your forehead. He swings it gently, and the glowing coals pattern an interlaced star, for millennia the symbol of wisdom. His voice is low, rich, threaded with a pleased sort of amusement. "I bless and welcome you with the Air that brings wisdom to the seeker, and the Fire which enflames your desire to act."

The woman moves to your other side, and now you see she bears a crystal chalice, filled with clear water. She moves to you, traces what feels to be the same circled star on your brow. "I cleanse and consecrate you with the ocean's depths of emotion and the steadfast permanence of Earth." Some of the water trickles down your cheek to your mouth; you taste salt. "Welcome to the Circle. Blessed Be."

You are embraced, gently, as a mother to a child... and drawn into the Circle.

Spiraling into the center...

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