«Sure, but not here, my Lady. It’s starting to get cold. Come with me, let’s go to the library. We’ll converse in front of a nice lit fireplace.»
The library itself was a warm and comfortable environment. The walls were almost completely covered with shelves filled with books. Each section was marked with a letter of the alphabet, indicating the initial of the title of the texts stored there. Some friars worked in absolute silence, sitting at some desks, arranged in the centre of the room. A large fireplace spread light and warmth throughout the large living room. At a nod of the Prior, the amanuensis rested their instruments in good order and took their leave, one after the other. In short, Lucia remained alone with Father Gerolamo. First she gave him the precious tome entrusted to her by Bernardino. The Prior appreciated it, first sniffing it, to smell the printed paper, then flipping through some pages, finally dwelling on some of the illustrations.
«An excellent job!», he said, heading towards the section of the library marked with the letter D. «Thank your friend the printer. Few in the world know how to work as he does.»
«It is he who thanks you. Without your work, his work would have had much less value. And that is why he wanted you to have the first printed copy.»
«I am delighted, and my confreres will be too. But come to us. Soon darkness will fall, and I imagine that you will need hospitality. We have no nuns here in St. Urbano, so I will have to have a room prepared for you for the night in the guesthouse. I hope you are not afraid to be alone.»
«Don’t worry, I’m very tired and I’ll sleep like a log. And then it’s just one night. Tomorrow morning at dawn I will leave again. I’ll pay a courtesy visit to Mayor Germano degli Ottoni and I’ll return to Jesi before tomorrow evening. But I would like to ask you a couple more things. First of all I would like to pray, and then I would ask you to participate in the Vespers prayer together with your confreres.»
«And for that there is no problem. We recite the evening prayer in the church and there is always some faithful to attend. Take your place in the nave and turn to the Lord as you see fit. There are also confessors if you want to take advantage. Do you have any other request, my Lady?»
«Yes, if I may. The last favour I would like to ask you is to have the stigmas of the Crocus that I collected this morning dried for me. You know very well they must be dried as soon as possible, to take advantage of their medicinal properties.»
«Unfortunately, I cannot satisfy you in this. The brother who treated the pharmacy was very old and passed away just a few months ago. We have not yet had the opportunity to replace him, so there is no one who is able to use the equipment that belonged to him.»
Lucia was about to ask to do the job herself but, aware the request would be a serious embarrassment for the Prior, she held back. She should have found a valid alternative to dry the stigmas before returning to Jesi. She didn’t know how, but she would have thought about it.
«Well, sure, I understand. Provide me at least some glass jars to store them properly.»
«All right, my lady, for those there are no difficulties. After Vespers, you can have dinner in the refectory with us and, at the end of the meal, our guardian brother will give you the jars you need.»
«Thank you very much, Father, and before I leave, I will not fail to make a generous offer to your Convent.»
Rather than prayers and glass jars, Lucia’s thoughts were focused on other interests, even during the conversation with the prior. She was well aware that on that day, March 21, the spring equinox would occur, but the night that was coming would be even more magical because of the astral circumstance that included both the new moon and the entry of the sun into the constellation of the ram. In her head resounded a phrase that her grandmother had often repeated to her: “The new moon in ram carries the sacred fire of love, which will make us all free”.
So, once she was left alone in the small room of the guesthouse, several times she looked out of the window to admire the sky, which appeared to her eyes as a carpet of bright stars, where the moon could not be seen, but its presence was perceived as a dark disc evident in a precise point of the sky. She remembered one by one the words of the prayer that her grandmother Elena had taught her, to address to the Earth, to the Good Goddess.
Make me free.
Light the Sacred Fire and
Make me free to be.
Make me free to Love.
Make me free and you will teach me to have within me all the loves of the World.
She felt a shiver down his spine at the thought that some of the friars had just been able to intuit his thoughts. The Inquisition was a very powerful institution of the Church, even in those remote places. But now the desire to reach the Colle dell’Aggiogo, the magical place where she had been initiated into the art of healer and where she received the book “The Key of Solomon” to be its custodian, was too strong. At the end of the day, what was wrong, once she got up there, in lighting a bonfire, perhaps in order to dry the stigmata of the crocus, recite the prayer to the Good Goddess and thus celebrate the spring equinox in a dignified way, even if in solitude? She could have returned to the monastery before dawn, before the morning prayer of the monks, and no one would have noticed anything.
When she was sure that everything was quiet, she grabbed the jars with the crocus and went out in the stinging cold of the night, reached her horse, untied it, so as not to make noise led him on foot for a good stretch, then jumped on the saddle and took up the steep that, past the small towns of Poggio and Frontale, led to the Colle dell’Aggiogo.
The clearing in front of what were the ruins of Alberto and Ornella’s house was softly illuminated by the bluish glow emanating from the stars. The celestial vault was crossed by the Milky Way and the main constellations, the Small and the Big Dipper, Orion, the Bull, the Charioteer, the Greater Dog, and so on, were well recognizable by Lucia. The place reminded Lucia too much of the tragic events of which it had been the scene not even two years ago, and so she decided to continue towards the top of the hill. She found a quiet clearing, tied Morocco to a tree, collected wood and lit a bonfire. In a short time the flames rose cheerfully, spreading upwards in a thousand sparks. The young girl placed the Crocus near the fire, and concentrated on the flames, which at each instant took on different shapes and shades of colour.
The sparks make everything invisible and unreal, real and visible.
Now Lucia’s face was illuminated by the flames and made even more alive by their light. The girl, immersed in her thoughts and meditations, had not even noticed the young women who were getting closer to the bonfire and who, holding hands, had joined in her meditations.
Everything is love, and love frees everything and everyone and makes us free.
Lucia heard these words coming to her ears, in a muffled manner, as if they were spoken in a whisper of her own voice. Then she looked around and saw herself surrounded by at least a dozen girls who, in the heat of the bonfire, had begun to undress until they were naked, forming a circle around the fire. She threw more wood to revive the flames and increase their height, and felt the instinct to get rid of her clothes too.
The Aries wraps us in his embrace. It invites us to embrace, to feel the grip, to feel the heart bursting in our chest for happiness.
Declaring these words, she took two of the young women close to her by the hand, inviting the others to do the same to join in a circle around the bonfire.
We deserve ourselves.
We must love ourselves.
We must heal by giving love and love.
To heal is to free the love we have inside,
and unleash the strength we feel inside.
It's time to blossom and taste the sparkling air
and full of love.
The girls now, twelve in all, including Lucia, were dancing in a circle holding hands,