Despite the fact that she was speaking to me, she had not pointed her gaze at me even once. There was not a trace of me reflected in her pupils.
I was surprised at how deeply it cut, how saddened I was by her indifference.
’I’m sorry’ I blurted out before I could stop myself.
She sighed softly . . . . before smiling knowingly at the dull tone of my voice, and then she asked all the same. ’Oh?, what for?’
’For the burden I am to you. I am sorry for my existence— every moment of it.’
She laughed lightly in amusement, the magic of her voice washing over me like the southern breeze.
’Would you like to hear my story, Mason?’ She asked after a restful breath. Her mention of my name sending pleasant jolts through my spine.
’It does not end happily - but since when has the world ever been so kind? If happy endings truly existed, then what could we have done back then to be good enough?’
I was silent, though surprised by the bitter edge in her voice.
’I was born three millenia ago, Mason.
The human world was a much more different place. Back then, the meta gene was evidence of divine favour, a mercy granted by the gods.
It was ancient greece. I was sixteen, and I was beautiful. Even better, I manifested a unique and revered gift, one that made me invaluable. My life should have been perfect’
Her eyes blurred with nostalgia, but her frown still deepened.
’My parents were brainwashed fanitics, slaves in mind and soul to the priesthood.
Something I only realize now should’ve frightened me back then. But I cared not; I had one other sibling—a younger brother. —The only person who was ever dear to me.
My father was a devout follower of the priesthood of Hera—always out in their service.
While mother’s parental love stopped at keeping us fed and clothed.
It was clear at a glance that I was valued much more by our parents—the special child.
I didn’t fully understand why at the time, but I was always vaguely aware that the way my parents looked at me was strange; not quite the look a parent should have given their child.
It was almost like... I was a possession to them.
’When my brother was of age, he was conscripted in the army. That was the last time i would see him.
And when I was of age . . .
In the center of the capital, there was this one temple- the temple of Hera.
The temple was young, but the priest of Hera had already infected the common people with their propaganda, leeching on the city’s wealth.
Not long after, my father strangely decided to take me to the temple with him.
I remember how confused I was when he insisted that I wear the white tunic he had bought a few nights before and braid my hair the way the old priestesses did.’ Hera laughed dryly.
And I was still confused when the tenple slaves led me into a residence chamber like I belonged there.
Finally, it dawned on me what had happend when I saw the pouch of silver drachmas in my father’s palms, but I couldn’t bring myself to feel sad.
In fact I was thrilled. Excited to be free of my parents and their expectations. Pleased that even the so called priests could not take their eyes of my body wherever I went.
Delighted that the female temple servants and preistesses sighed with envy whenever I waltzed into the room.
Happy that my powers were worshipped amongst those in the temple— that I was worshipped as a goddess reborn in mortal flesh.
Admiration was was nothing to me, Mason. It was a hollow narcissistic life, but at least I could have decieved myself into believing I was content. ." She smiled, amused at her own evaluation.
’Then the visions came — and I saw her for the first time.
I remember that one night very clearly. It was snowing, and i was cleaning the temple gardens.
I was supposed to have had help from the others, but it was the time of festival —a time where the priest would indulge himself with the so called chaste preistesses.
Not me though. . . I was too dangerous to be sought after. I stayed only long enough to make sure the entire garden was perfect.
Then I gathered myself and prepared to head back to my chambers.
I found a single woman with bare feet. I assumed she was a temple servant.
But, when I could see her face in the dim light of my lantern, my breath left me.
She was, beyond a shadow of a doubt, the most beautiful woman I had ever seen.
She had such white skin, I was in awe at it.
Her hair was dark with a hint of amethyst purple, and her face was maze of seduction and beauty. She took a step closer to me.
’Mmm,’ she breathed in a musical voice. ’Such untapped potential.’
’So much pain awaits you, child,’ she said.’I could take you away from that bleak future. It would be soo easy’
Then she paused, and I was silent still, captive to her divine beauty.
’No not yet.’ she whispered. I shall not interfere with your natural life.’
My eyes were quivering in both wonder and fear, though I didn’t understand the meaning of anything the angelic creature was saying.
’It is decided then,’ she said in a gentle voice. ’I pray that when we next meet. . . it is not too late.’
She seemed to almost melt into the shadows. I froze with shock. Then she was gone . .
She hadn’t lied about what was to come. While I was a symbol of divine grace and prosperity, I was protected and fawned over.
But then my visions changed from those of prosperty and grace to those of judgement and death.
And that singular change. . . was all it took.
I remember that night.
Before the common folk I was named a sinner. The priest ripped the clothes from my back and threw them into the fire.
Then they wrenched out all my hair from the roots, and I cried out in pain. They liked that — the pain in my voice. . . .’
My own parents were in the crowd, watching quitely.
Like you my life ended in fire. But my fire was gentle, slow...
They made sure of that. Made certain that I would feel it quietly burning each piece of me into ash.’
Then Hera suddenly looked at me, as if she’d only now remembered that I was listening to her tale. She chuckled when she saw my trembling hands.
’You get the idea,’ she laughed dryly.’ They cheered as the fire burnt through my skin, hurling insults at me while they cheered.
Then they doused the fire, leaving me within an inch of my life so I could die slowly.
And I wanted to wanted to die. There was so, so much pain that I was surprised that I could think.
I prayed to every god i knew to end it all. Why was It was taking so long. . . .?’
Then I felt a presence. I thought I’d died when it pulled me from the stake and carried me away - the feeling was oddly freeing - it felt like my spirit itself was ascending.
Then I was in a dark room, and it was cold. The pain was slowly dulling as my life faded slowing.
Finally....
But suddenly the fire came back, this time much worse — somehow burning me at a cellular level.
I screamed in terror, thinking I had been brought here to be tortured much worse.
When I sensed the presence again, I begged it to kill me.
It sat with me. Touched my face the way a concerned mother would and apologized for pain, promising that it would end.
I knew now that she was the angelic woman I had encountered, and was silent as she told me everything.
And whenever the worst of the pain passed, I listened. She told me a lot: About creatures of the night. She told me of our history. And she told me that I would be one such creature when my eyes opened.
Then she told me why I was special, why I could do these things no one else could. And that I would carry my gifts into this new life —only they would be stronger, purer than ever before.
She become my master and my mentor when I woke. Three millenia later, I have since left her side and ended up as retainer of clan Uttara, but she always be my salvation.
Mason, I don’t dislike you, nor do I look down on you.
. . . In many ways you are a much nobler person than I was in my human life.
What you did against the fire meta is proof of that.
However, I sense too much mercy in you, too much kindness and far too much humanity.
I know. . . That it will be the death of you. I can see it as clearly as I see the stars. . .
Mason . . . I pity you.’