Portals
by Phoebe Isaacs
“The time of prophecy is upon us. The Old Gods stir once more. Its is the time of my awakening. I have come to pave their way, soften the approaching footsteps as my kinsmen are reborn. The mother goddess is angry, as well should she be. We have been lazy. Watchful guardians sleeping at their posts, while the world ran rampant. But how? As we slept, the knowledge was skewed. The council must be called, these ancient questions answered. Reckoning is now at hand. I am the Goddess Bast and I have come, as will they all.”
The clock chimed the hour softly in the distance, its lovely sound at odds with the grim purpose it signaled. Nhylis stood quietly in the shambled courtyard, a solitary figure robed in coarse green wool. His balding head was bowed in reverence of the ancient elegance present in the room, as each toll struck a worried chord within his heart. Although there was no sound, the man raised his head to find the eyes of his long time friend as he too made way into the oddly mystical aura that pervaded the small area. The moon had risen and the translucent silver light bathed the once white pillars, erasing years of age and neglect with loving grace. The green of the moss covered stones shimmered with fine mist, swirling, creating a cloud like layer on the ground. Even the very air seemed charged with something otherworldly, as though life itself was anticipating their purpose.
Brode was also clothed in a coarse green robe, although his hair was much fuller and longer than his friends. It was also the most peculiar shade of white, as if rather than turning such a color it had always grown exactly that way. He did not speak until he'd reached the other man. One roughened hand settled briefly on the Nhy's shoulder. “Its time. It won't be as bad as you expect. She's much stronger this time.”
Although the gesture was appreciated, it did little to ease the bone deep worry Nhylis had carried about this day for nearly three decades. Almost glacial blue eyes reflected his thoughts, fractals of light contracting around his pupils, changing the patterns within the color, almost in time to the increasing beat of his heart. “Brode, the last time... “ The words stopped. It was unnecessary. Both men remembered clearly what had happened. Nhy's fists clenched as his jaw set hard. “It was too close. I can't lose her.”
“You have no choice. It has to happen now.”
His friend's voice was stern, dry and it infuriated Nhylis. All of the pent up frustration at his own lack of control over the situation, his reservations, his fears, the secret longing he had to see her again which made him feel so guilty because he knew what pain it would be for her, broke his composure and he swung a wild fist into the nearest pillar. Instantly, a myriad of cracks webbed away from the impact of his knuckles. Stone crumbled to dust and covered his hand. In his heart, he screamed aloud the questions that plagued him but he said nothing. His throat was too tight. Besides, the words were pointless. They heard him anyway. One intensely angry stare burned into the night sky for the space of several heartbeats until his breathing calmed and his point had been made. At least now, like this, he could keep her safe. What happened if she wasn't strong enough this time either? Or maybe worse, what if she was and the prophecies were true? How would he protect her then, when he couldn't even find her?
Moving away from the pillar, ignoring Brode's eyes on him and the faint trickle of blood between two of his knuckles, Nhylis made his way to the center of the room where a sleek black cat rested peacefully atop a raised stone table. “Hello my love.” His injured hand touched down upon the cat's back and her head raised instantly, wickedly intelligent green eyes finding his face. Uncoiling her lithe form, the cat stretched low under his hand as it play down his her spine and moved to bump her face against him in obvious fondness. “Its time.” Those few words were all he could manage. His heart contracted hard, closing his throat. I miss you. The thought echoed hard within his soul and the reply came instantly.
Soon, my loved one. Soon. I am ready.
Nodding to Brode, the two men stood on either side of the table as the cat in the center settled into a regal pose, shoulders high with her head lifted and eyes locked on something unseen in the air before her. Of all the ancients, only she had been bound to a physical form. However, the balance of power in the universe was so delicate that had she had not been able to occupy a human form. It would have been far to obvious to those that watched such things. A few had seen their coming, had understood the prophecy but they had quickly been cut down by the ignorant until all that remained was vague superstition and jumbled texts no one could read. Instead, she'd chosen the cat. Lithe, sleek and powerful the beast had been a perfect disguise. Perversely, it left her vulnerable as well. The two men at her side had served her well through the years, one as her protector and the other her teacher.
They'd known this day would come since before they had taken residence in these forms. It was only a matter of waiting until the signs had spoken. Once before the time had seemed at hand, but she had not been strong enough to over come the resistance of shifting one form to another. She had nearly died. It was why Nhylis's heart ached so badly for her now. Briefly, her eyes flickered to his bent head. Not surprisingly, his blue eyes had locked onto hers almost instantly. It had been so hard for him, watching and waiting. So close and yet so far removed was about to be traded for searching, a longing so fierce that neither would rest. The three of them must be reborn now, on this full moon Beltane night. It was time. She could feel it.
A great stillness settled over them. Even the air ceased to move as the energy between them began to take shape. It became tangible, a thin golden string billowing out, binding them together. The pain hit then. Her body arched hard, head flung back as the keenest sound of despair and loss exploded from her throat. Without much fanfare, almost as if she were coming into focus, the shape of the cat on the table blinked once hard, replaced by the kneeling form of a woman, naked. Dark brown hair framed a wild face, the panic obvious in her eyes. Once more and the human form stuck, only the hint of her former cat self remaining in her cheekbones, around her eyes.
One giant breath, to fill lungs far larger than she was used to and immediately she glanced to the men beside her, eyes memorizing the suddenly unfamiliar face of Brode. He brother, her teacher. Her closest friend. She would miss him so badly. Then to Nyhlis. Already, the their physical forms were fading. Becoming translucent. Her thoughts were jumbled, choppy. How would she ever find him again? Her fear echoed in his eyes.
Wait for me?I can't do this without you.
Always.
His reply was the very last thought in her mind. Everything was gone, all of them, and she was falling into nothing. Blackness.
*
Six days later, a baby girl was born in the back seat of a pale blue Volkswagen bus, on the side of highway ten.
It was an uneventful beginning, despite the circumstances. Two would be hippy hold overs, several half lab mutt puppies and one very tiny infant spent the night peacefully as the campfire smoldered into ash. Oblivious to the chaos brewing around them, to the unseen story unfolding, the adults slept soundly while the child's wide, wild eyes flitted around the small interior. There was something she was trying to remember. Something very important, but the stress of the day was so heavy on her eyelids. It would be so easy to sleep. She would forget, but then she would remember. Right?
*
The night settled heavily around the Gulf shore town, the air so thick you could bat it away along with the mosquitoes. Even they moved slower in the thickness. It wasn’t hot yet, but the promise of heat was already there, sticking to your skin.
“Do you still feel guilty?” Without appearing touched by it, two figures gazed placidly at the low key chaos. Someone was being born. At the answering look, the left one sighed. “Don’t.”
“How can I not?” A gnarled hand met a haggard face and then pushed through the bushy mop of stark white hair atop his head. It was a gesture repeated many times over, by the look of things. “There’s been so many….all of them starting better than this. How can she….?”
“We have no choice.” It was a well traveled conversation. “All of the signs…”
“Yes, yes.” The words mumbled out of the old man’s lips, his eyes focusing once more on the scene before them. The moment played out, frozen in time in the eyes of both unseen participants. The baby girl settled easily into her mothers arms; an uneventful entrance to the world to all concerned.
The image turned watery and rippled away and the two were left standing, far from what they had just witnessed. The old man sighed again. “It is done. Now, fate decides.”
“Let us hope she decides in our favor.” A low hum of agreement from the old man sounded softly in the darkness.
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