Aries, the ram of spring, we see a journey in your path once more as midnight descends. As with the ancient rites of old, the moon weaves a tapestry of mysteries that can only be unfurled beneath the gnarled branches of an aged and lonesome oak. In the gentle whisper of fallen leaves, in the shadowy chill of the archaic stone circle, there are words to be listened to, messages which shall pierce the veil between worlds. The silence that follows the farmer’s hoe, the translucent dew upon the sacrificial altar, they hint at the secrets withheld from time’s own memory.

Dawn shall bring no solace, Aries. You will find yourself within an unweeded garden, where eerie echoes of the past lie nestled amidst the browning stubble. The stone menhirs that line the path are not mere markers of earthly boundaries, but watchers and guardians from an epoch long forgotten. Make sure to carry a charm made of rowan, ash, and thorn, to keep at bay the spirits of forgotten ancestors that have awakened to avenge ancient wrongs. The ram’s stubbornness can be a beacon in the impending gloom – do not be swayed by the spectral voices carried on the wind, and remain true to your path. Your journey into the darkest corners of the past’s mysteries is just beginning. Be vigilant and do not falter, for the harvest moon carries with it the ghosts of countless generations and their unfulfilled destinies, yearning for resolution through you.