Prologue

 

Passage of a Soul

                The moon looked fuzzy as I gazed into the star lit sky. The edges weren’t as crisp and distinct as I liked, and I didn’t feel the usual compulsion to try and see deeper into each dark shadow. A scattering of clouds was passing overhead and, by their shape, I knew the weather would not interfere with this eve’s merriment.

                My mind drifted a moment as the hiss of waves against the rocky shore flooded my ears. This night was as hypnotic as any I could remember and I lost myself in the swell of the sea and the feather-like touch of cool winds as they danced across my body.

                A low murmur drew me from my trance, and I glanced up one last time to see the deep blue of night with my old eyes. Soon… I would be born again and screaming into the darkness as the first breaths of life escaped from my lungs. Tonight… was Samhain.

                I am the leader of this coven, and I depend on it to protect our way and our beliefs. It wasn’t always as easy as it is today. My kind was forced to endure the Salem witch trials, foolish discrimination, misconceptions, and the constant hunters who came to eradicate us.

                Due to the seemingly endless persecution from the Catholic Church, the pagan way was nearly lost. Our holidays became yours. Solstice became Christmas, Samhain became Halloween, and so on and so forth. The priests, over time, were meticulous in their conversion of my kind. Through all of this, however, a few of us have managed to survive. Now, in a rapidly changing world, our numbers are growing exponentially. Because life has become more difficult and complex, the new age slant on one of the oldest religions has become mainstream and trendy once more.

                The wind created ripples along my silk robes and sent a cascade of butterfly kisses against my sex. I was ready and wanton, but knew there was work to be done. I had sated myself during the previous orgy, and would have to wait until after this night’s work was finished. I possess at least this much control of my destiny, even if choice is only measured in hours.

                I couldn’t help but notice his taught and supple flesh as he lay there, writhing against the stone altar. He was called Seth, an old name. His muscles flexed, and he moaned into the gag that muted his cries.

                Bending at the knee, I curtsied and gave my respects to the gods before entering the sacred circle.

                There was no hiding my smirk, as I watched young muscles play beneath his skin as he struggled. Had it been another day, and another time, I would have ridden him to satisfy my own carnal desires. He was hers though, and I would never sample that delight.

                The clouds were swept away by a rising wind, and the moon seemed to absorb the stars behind it. Were it not for the amber hues of our pyre, the sand would have stretched along the shore like deep azure diamonds in the darkness.

                So… sadly, all I could do was lose myself in the abyss of his dark brown eyes as they attempted to swallow me in their terror.

                “This one is given to God, The All.” I raised my arms, and lifted my eyes, as I shouted the words and stared into the face of creation. My eyes fell to the offering and I smiled. A knowing glance painted my face as my eyes traveled over his body.

                His shoulder length hair did little to comfort him against the dark granite stone to which he was tethered. He swung his head from side to side as he fought against his restraints, and his dark auburn hair seemed to burst into flame as each curl reflected the pyre’s crimson glow.

                I relished the defeat I found in his eyes, when he finally realized the inevitable.

                My pride pulsed through me. I couldn’t help but recognize the bravery and sedate calm of mind and body she possessed as she lay on the altar beside him.

                She didn’t struggle, or even display the slightest fear. Her purpose was preordained, and she meant to fulfill her destiny. Her ivory skin looked almost orange in the light from the center of our circle. I spoke old words and was again lost in the rhythm of the ceremony.

                Golden, fiery tongues lit the darkness, and I felt the ebb and flow of life as I swayed from side to side, like a metronome.

                “I send your love before you, so he will greet you in the afterlife.” With that I advanced, pulled the silver blade from my robes, and plunged it into the young man’s chest.

                The look of surprise on his face weakened, and finally turned into the stone-like stare of death. He gazed into an infinite distance. I had killed him, and his dead eyes stared past me, as if asking a question.

                I pulled the knife from him with a sickening sound.  It was a thirsty sound, like it didn’t want to give up the metal, and again I smiled. I knew that sound all too well. Through all the centuries, this one thing has never changed.

                As I turned, my eyes traveled along her flesh. I watched the moonlight ripple across her skin like a cascade of dancing white water. There wasn’t the froth and turmoil of a violent stream, only the serenity of light. It seemed to surge up her thighs and coalesce on the swell of her stomach and the unborn child hidden inside. The landscape of her ivory skin seemed nearly infinite.

                I wiped the blood soaked blade across my robes as I faced her, and smiled. She lay silent in her bonds and stared back at me with knowing eyes. There was no fear, and I suppose that was when I knew.

                For three hundred and thirty three generations, my soul has traveled from old to new. This is the sacred number. I knew that this time would be my last and, finally, I would be granted eternal life. The time was right; the old ways were taking hold in the world once more.

                “I serve the one that is between. Let both light and dark, future and past, good and evil… guide me.” I looked down at her prone young body, and mourned the loss.

                The muscles in my arm contracted, and I heard the hollow crunch of shattering bone and cartilage as my knife found her heart. She would die, but her unborn child would be my life. This would be the last time. I would slide from old to new once again, sending the soul of the woman’s unborn child into oblivion.

                “All my love, mother.” My daughter spat the bloody words onto her chest as death claimed her, and I took my place in her womb.

Author's Note

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