“I hate the fucking fire.”
It was early May in a region now vanished into the annals of history, a land called Armorica, located in what is now Brittany, France.
During those dates, the ancient Celts celebrated the beginning of the year, a festival they called Beltane, lighting gigantic wicker torches shaped like human figures.
Druids conducted the sacred ceremony, held on that occasion especially to ask the gods for aid against Roman intervention. For this purpose, they led the most beautiful cattle they possessed between the two torches. Those animals would later be sacrificed and cooked in the sacred fire.
Before the ceremony, seated upon a wooden throne, was the Celtic god Belenus. Any ritual involving fire required his presence, for he was the most important sun god of Avalon, the kingdom of the Celtic gods.
It should be noted that, at that time, direct intervention between the Celtic gods and their humans was not forbidden. However, they could not directly help humans, only promise that they would. In truth, they merely made an appearance to guarantee that the sacrifices were carried out and that they could obtain that energy.
Standing beside Belenus were a dozen Celtic gods, such as Belisama, Toutatis, Taranis, Sucellus, Smertrios, and others. All of them watched the obligatory ritual with boredom, since they had to witness it in order to give their blessing to the humans. Though this was merely a formality so they could increase their divine power, since, just like the humans, they were at war against the Roman gods.
“The only good thing about all this is the food,” Belenus said in annoyance, his face resting against his hand. The god was almost lying down in the uncomfortable chair and could not hide his irritation.
“You should have told them to make those bonfires with human bodies, just to see if they were capable of obeying us blindly,” Belisama replied mockingly while resting her head on her spear.
“Their miserable human sacrifices of war prisoners barely give us any power,” Toutatis replied angrily.
“Well, Belisama is right. They should perform massive human sacrifices like they used to,” added a red-haired goddess in a white dress. Her name was Nantosuelta.
“You know? You could tell the druids parading those cows around like idiots to stop clowning around and sacrifice every human who came to watch the festival,” Sucellus said, laughing.
“Enough!” Belenus interrupted. “This ritual is in my honor, and I am not replacing delicious roasted beef with human flesh.”
The Celtic gods laughed, which the druids interpreted as proof that their gods were pleased with the ritual. Finally, the last herd of cows crossed between the two torches, and the high druid requested silence from everyone present. The moment of the cattle sacrifice was about to begin.
But then all the people began murmuring.
“Where is our goddess, Epona?”
“Has the goddess who heals our illnesses not come?”
“I wish to be blessed by her.”
Belenus then made a gesture of annoyance at the people’s words. At that moment, multiple human sacrifice no longer seemed like such a bad idea to him.
“That bitch Epona, who does she think she is?” Belenus said furiously as the murmurs did not cease.
It seemed as if Epona had become the savior of the people, rather than Belenus, who loved staging these spectacles to be admired by humans.
“That shameless woman went around healing people, knowing full well that it is illegal,” Toutatis said, shaking his head in disapproval.
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“I have no idea what our lord Esus could have in his head to spare her life,” Belisama added, her face clearly showing irritation.
The murmurs became more and more frequent. The gods had smiles on their faces, but they could no longer hide their discomfort.
At that moment, one of the druids approached the group of gods, who were on the other side of the torches, and prostrated himself on the ground.
“My lords,” the priest said in Gaelic. “Would it be possible for you to bless us with the presence of the holy Lady Epona?”
Belenus remained silent at the request and tried to draw a smile on his face.
“Epona… is very busy with matters… unrelated to you,” the god answered nervously in Gaelic.
“Yes. We are the ones who watch over your safety, not Epona,” Belisama added.
All the gods nodded, and the druid thanked his lords for their words before standing.
The man was about to inform his people of the sad news when a light opened in the sky. Descending through it were Epona and her father, Atepomarus, both riding horses, one white and the other brown.
Epona wore her long golden hair with a beautiful golden diadem on her forehead. Her green eyes were so pure that they reflected the moonlight with great intensity. She also wore a beautiful green dress with golden patterns.
Atepomarus likewise wore a green shirt with golden patterns and blue trousers. He rode the brown horse, while Epona rode the white one.
When the people saw this, they began bowing and offering prayers full of joy. It was the goddess who cared for the sick, the one who listened to their prayers. She was not a warrior goddess. She did not want blood. She only had a beautiful smile with which to listen to and care for everyone.
Without fear, the people approached Epona and tried to touch her. Some women had brought their sick children so the goddess could heal them. Others begged for food, better harvests, and for the war to end.
Epona blushed and did not know what to do. She was not used to receiving attention from others, since she had been raised with her father in a stable.
The people showed her little statues of a woman beside one horse or two.
They called her the Virgin Mother of Horses.
“All of this… is very beautiful, and I thank you for it,” Epona replied timidly. “But I will gladly stay after the festival to hear your prayers and try to help you as best I can.”
Atepomarus placed his hand on his daughter’s shoulder and nodded in approval of her actions.
The druid priests then separated the people from Epona and her father, apologizing for any trouble they might have caused. Epona denied that it was anything bad and smiled.
However, the arrival of both gods had not put Belenus and the rest of the Celtic gods in a good mood. The presence of the people’s favorite had made them so furious that they no longer cared about keeping up appearances. Fortunately, the people were no longer looking at them, since they had turned to the young and small Celtic goddess.
“What is the reason for your presence today, Epona?” Belisama asked imperatively in the divine tongue. The goddess’s blue eyes shone with disdain as she looked at Epona, who was dismounting from her horse along with her father.
“I was unaware that my daughter needed special permission to attend Beltane,” Atepomarus replied in the divine tongue, annoyed.
“Father, I…” Epona tried to interrupt, but Atepomarus asked his daughter to remain silent.
“My daughter was found innocent by the very decision of our great lord, the almighty Esus,” Atepomarus added. “Therefore, she is free to attend any sacred gathering.”
The Celtic gods began murmuring, until Belenus gestured for silence. Then the god stood.
“Just because our lord Esus approved that little girl does not mean we approve of her as well,” the god said, pointing toward the people.
“It is only natural to see how our people are now sunk in uselessness, because a goddess has appeared before them who is willing to solve all their whims. That is why they venerate her in such a way,” the Celtic sun god added.
“That’s not true!” Epona shouted furiously. “I am learning human medicine to treat some illnesses. I am not using my divine power on them.”
At that moment, Atepomarus interrupted his daughter.
“Take that matter before our lord Esus. Because it seems to me you are merely envious of my daughter,” he answered Belenus angrily.
“Do not dare speak that way to great Belenus!” Smertrios replied furiously, preparing his great hammer to strike Epona’s father, but Belenus stopped him.
“You may say whatever you wish for now,” Belenus said. “But remember that when Esus retires, I will be the next anunnaki of Avalon, and I will not be as permissive as he is.”
Atepomarus and Epona said nothing. Both stared defiantly at the Celtic sun god as he sat back down on his throne.
Epona stared fixedly at the two fire torches as her memory faded, and she began to feel once again the pain caused by Xiuhtecuhtli’s attack.
“Belenus, fire, has always hated me. He envied that the Celtic people showed me more devotion than him,” Epona thought, as she had been remembering her past.
“That is why I have always hated fire. I am sure he was the one who murdered my father, and recently he tried to kill me too,” the goddess continued reflecting.
Epona touched the scar on her cheek and made an angry gesture.
“And this wound will always remind me of his fire power, of the arrogance of the Celtic sun god,” she said.
Then the goddess stood, despite the terrible burning throughout her body.
“Hey, you son of a bitch!” Epona shouted. “You think a pathetic fire like this is gonna beat me?!”