Limbo

by Thiago d'Evecque

  I reached the stream. It stretched out in a bright, still sheet, reflecting the sunlight and taking in the shadows of the trees and the surrounding boulders. I stood in the shallows, where the cold water caressed my soles.

  The wind didn’t dare to blow and disturb those waters. A strong power emanated from that place, but it wasn’t overwhelming. On the contrary. It made me light, comfortable, willing to remain under its influence.

  I considered the importance of sending Oshun back. I wanted to send the meaning of love back to Earth with all its might. Love was not a duty. We didn’t choose what we loved, but we could learn to love. Loving was not an obligation, a commandment—that would be contradictory. It was a joyful ideal, a spontaneity that enlightens all its bearers. Something impossible to be pretended or imitated. It had to be felt.

  I believe Oshun could teach that.

  She appeared in the blink of an eye, and it was as if she had always been there. Oshun, goddess of love, hovered in the deepest part of the river and sauntered on its surface, calm but determined. The water hardly rippled at the touch of her bare feet. She never took her large, expressive almond eyes off mine.

  There was neither among angels, humans, gods, or any species a creature more beautiful and sensual than Oshun. Her voluptuous black-skinned body exuded lust—thick, shapely legs concealed by a short skirt, slender waist, and wide hips that rose and fell with each slow step. Her breasts bulged in the short low-cut blouse. Half-opened meaty lips seemed to call me to paradise on a young-looking face.

  Gold earrings, necklaces, anklets, and bracelets, swayed as she approached me, as did her dreadlocks strung with shells, beads, and yellow strips.

  Is this your chosen one’s slave?

  “What?” I whispered indignantly, head down and pretending to scratch my mouth to cover it. “She’s not a slave, you idiot.”

  But she’s black. Has she bought her freedom?

  “You were on Earth at a terrible time. There are no more slaves. Not like in your time, at least.”

  How come? They are so handy for—

  “Shut it!” Chuck was a product of his time—and of his believers—, so I had a long way to go in catching him up to date.

  I raised my head and Oshun was before me. Her sweet, floral aroma smelled warm and inviting.

  Oshun was a female orisha, an ancestral deity, and not just the representation of love. In fact, she embodied all of femininity’s essence; from the shy girl who flirts with glances to the elderly matriarch respected by her family and sought after for advice. She had in herself every phase of a woman’s life. Sorceress, seductress, and extraordinary fighter when needed be.

  She had many love affairs and disputes with the other orishas—the games of voodoo went far beyond the narrow concept of pinning cloth dolls with vengeful desire. Their relationships have always spawned stories and anecdotes about her personality.

  The goddess wasn’t ceremonial about using her body and charm to get what she wanted. She was aware of her beauty and had great fun using it to seduce. But she also knew how to wield the sword.

  Humans have worshiped Oshun for ages. Always remembered, always honored, she answered calls and spread love when the heart was pure, or anger when someone tried to take advantage of her.

  Countless years ago, the rituals, requests, and offerings came to an end. The goddess was set aside, her followers forgot her power, and the next generations did not even hear of her. She was just another shipwreck in the endless ocean of oblivion.

  I breathed in her ardent breath. Oshun grabbed the back of my neck and pulled me close. Her wet lips parted, and the goddess stuck her tongue in my open mouth, making it dance. I tasted honey, clouds, bliss. Her tongue was warm and smooth, vigorous but affectionate. Enveloping. Enticing. What did I want with her, anyway?

  I can do many things with my tentacles, and I have done plenty with slaves like this one, but I have never understood the appeal in the vapid pleasures of the flesh.

  My trusty sidekick brought me back to reality, or to the dream that was the Limbo.

  I grasped the goddess’ shoulder and pulled away, taking a deep breath just out of habit.

  She raised one thin eyebrow. “What do you hide?” she asked softly, almost a moan.

  “Nothing. Don’t know. Nothing.”

  Oshun grinned. “There’s doubt in you. Rage. Frustration. Agony. Desire.”

  The goddess kept measuring me and went on.

  “Is your problem love? You’re holding on to something and don’t want to let go, is that right? Free yourself. Show your vulnerability and believe it won’t be used against you. This is love.”

  “That’s not why I’m here…”

  The honeyed eyes of an angel I loved didn’t leave me. They were firebrands, two eternal burns staring at me from the back of my mind.

  “You want something, don’t you?” Oshun said. “Or is it someone?”

  She read my irises easily.

  “Hold on to your memories. They have power. Much more than mere imagination.

  “Satisfaction is not the secret. The search is. Filling the void is love’s greatest mission.”

  I frowned and scratched the back of my neck. “So, love never succeeds? When does the search end?”

  Oshun stretched her mouth and showed marble-white teeth, forming a sharp contrast against her skin. She applauded. “Very well! You are almost there. ‘Success’ is the journey, not the destination. When you have what you lacked, you settle down and love dies. The secret is to always be hungry. Always want the best. Always love.”

  Sounds tiring.

  I turned my back on her. I watched that beautiful river, of a clear water that Earth would never have again. The trees that did not move. The complete stillness of that place in contrast to the fast melody of the drums and the humming.

  “Do you know why you’re here?” I asked.

  The smile on her face died. Oshun lifted her chin and seemed to look at me from above, in a proud pose.

  “Yes, I know why. Humans’ faith is gone.” Her voice had lost its sensual moan and gained an acid tone. “I wonder what ended first, faith or love. What good is faith anyway if they forgot love? If they can’t even save the love among themselves, what kind of salvation is there for them?”

  “Can you teach them to love again?”

  Oshun squinted. “First, I should make them forget this concept of new love. Much more akin to hatred.” The goddess trembled.

  “What do you mean?”

  “They love like the hunter loves the hunt. A greedy, selfish, jealous love. They’d rather see partner unhappy at their side than free. Love isn’t ownership.”

  She looked down with a restless, impatient fury that made her even more beautiful. “They forgot everything. The very concepts that created me are perverted. They no longer love the doing, only the promised glory. They don’t care about the present life, only the life of future illusions. They don’t want their current partner, just an imaginary ideal impossible to achieve.”

  Well, she is right. It’s what humans do most, and I’m not even an expert at it. They are never satisfied with anything at all. But wait… Isn’t this how gods are created? Never mind.

  “That’s why they need you,” I told Oshun. “As one of them, among them, for them.”

  No, black one! We are gods, we need ignorance so we can exist!

  “As one of them? As a human, you mean? Amidst the chaos?”

  That’s crazy, isn’t it? Forget it.

  “Walking them through the right road. Show love and it shall double.”

  No. Show hatefulness and you shall be feared.

  Oshun put her hands on her hips. “I don’t know if they have what it takes to escape the abyss.”

  “What is harder than to love reality?” I asked. “It’s easy to get lost in dreams and fantasy. The now is always difficult. Teach them one more time. Please.”

  Oshun took a deep breath and held my chin between thumb and forefinger
, pulling it up. She stared at me with the intensity of an eclipse. I feared she would blind me if I held her gaze too long.

  “Do you really believe they are capable?” Oshun asked.

  I tried to return the determination with my eyes, but I felt like a child playing of sending the waves back against the sea.

  “They just need direction. Show them the light.”

  “The problem with light,” she lowered her hand, “is that it’s sometimes too strong and dazzling.”

  While darkness is comforting and safe.

  “Please. I will not accept no as an answer. I will fight you if I must.”

  Oshun puffed out her massive breasts, making my legs tremble. But then she let out a breath, as if she’d reconsidered.

  “Does it mean that much to you?”

  “It should also mean to you. Without humans, there is nothing left. No Limbo, no gods, no love. No chance.”

  Argh… shit.

  Oshun nodded. She seemed far away. “I understand. There is love in you. Not passion, found in any creature, but true love, real love. A little greed, too, but that’s inevitable when a woman loves…”

  My invisible heart stopped for a moment.

  “Woman?”

  “Oh, we are different, my dear,” she said, amused. “Never think otherwise. What fun would there be if the sexes were the same? We are better.”

  “We? I am a woman?”

  “I see your confusion is bigger than I thought.”

  And my world turned upside down. Oshun’s and Chuck’s voices were muffled and distant. An avalanche of memories rolled over me. My shoulders weighed tons. My legs became jelly. I was a woman.

  I am a woman.

  Azazel’s mockery when I talked about myself as a man now made sense. ‘Man to angel’. His words echoed in my mind. ‘Eventually you will meet him’ Azazel had said. ‘I’d give anything to be around and watch that scene!’

  I really wanted to forget everything. Everything that could bring back the pain had been removed from me. Memories, as in a surrealist image, began to take different forms. The honey eyes of the angel I loved suddenly had a more masculine tone. I remembered the thin shape of my face, my slim body. I bowed my head. The leather corset hid the shape of my small breasts from appearing, but I could see their volume now.

  My arms…

  I dropped Chuck in the water and turned my hands up and down, staring in amazement. I was completely visible. My skin, my hair, the almost transparent hairs on my arms, my legs, my clothes… There was no glow anymore. It was no longer a ghost. My name…

  I still didn’t remember everything.

  I turned to Oshun, shaken. The goddess had materialized a sword in her right hand and was pointing it at me. A thin blade with an aura that radiated heat, but not like Ifrit, Azazel’s weapon. A tenuous golden layer covered the all the steel length. Jewels adorned the hilt, and the guard that separated the blade from the hilt was delicate and long. A legendary and divine relic, imbued with the sacred energy of its bearer: Light of the World.

  “How strong is your will?” she asked me, her voice heavy. “Are you ready to die for it?”

  I bent my knees, without averting my eyes from the goddess of love, and put my hand in the cool river water until my fingers closed around Chuck’s hilt. His tentacles twitched and dripped. I sensed his confusion and surprise, almost as stunning as mine.

  “I am.” I tensed up, lost, full of doubts. Regardless, I still had a mission to accomplish.

  Oshun kept her brown gaze on me for what seemed like centuries. The Light of the World’s tip vibrated before my face. The drums beat at a frantic pace.

  “Those inclined to deliver death must also be poised to accept its cold embrace.”

  She lowered the sword, and the movement made a small whistle. The music slowed down to a soothing rhythm.

  “I’ll help, dear. If you are so sure as to bet your own existence, then perhaps they are not a lost cause yet.”

  I sighed in relief. Besides my deplorable physical state, the new revelation disrupted any psychological balance I thought I had.

  “I will show that love is the only wealth that the more you spend, the more you have,” Oshun promised.

  “I’m sure you will.”

  I stabbed her with Chuck. The goddess’ statuesque body shone for a moment, acquiring the same luminescence as mine a second or a millennium ago, and then disappeared, leaving hundreds of shells and gold hoops in its place. The humming and beating died without warning.

  I hoped for Oshun to spread love around the earth. The love for the neighbor, for all creatures, true love, as she said, the love that doesn’t ask, doesn’t take, just accepts, thanks, and shares.

  I hoped for men to be free of themselves, their cowardice, their pettiness.

  I hoped for her light to shine true.

  The gloom swallowed the river, the trees, the rocks, and the shells disappeared from sight. Moans of eternal complaints floated around us.

  We need to talk.

  “About what?” I asked, tired because I foresaw another absurd discussion with Chuck.

  You are a woman! This changes everything.

  “Does it?”

  Certainly. You are a fragile and submissive creature made to serve.

  “Unlucky for you, because you’re stuck with me.”

  I will concede that you have done well so far.

  “You’re such an asshole. If you didn’t know I’m a woman, you wouldn’t treat me differently.”

  He did not answer.

  “Things didn’t get any better or worse because of it. We still have two souls to send back. Will you stand by me or would you rather be alone?”

  Honestly, I was done. If he wanted to part ways, so be it. I’d leave him and wouldn’t look back.

  Chuck seemed to ponder for a moment. His presence stirred inside the sword.

  I’ll pronounce something I’ve never said to anyone. Something that requires every cosmic fiber of my dark being to be uttered.

  I waited. Each tentacle pointed in one direction. His runes went out and then scintillated.

  I am sorry, said the unnameable one. I believe in you.

  It was stupid, but my eyes watered. The abyssal god of insanity and dread trusted me, and that was what I needed to hear at that moment. I pursed my lips and clutched his handle. The handle of my sword, my traveling companion, with whom I shared the burden to which I was assigned.

  Our burden, our endeavor, our duty.

  With my confidence renewed, I limped with Chuck in hand, though new questions arose. I still didn’t remember who I was or why I had forgotten everything. I wanted to find out what happened to the honey-eyed angel, why the archangels parted us, and if it was for him that all had happened.

  This former slave…

  “Stop it. I’m serious. She’s no slave. She’s a goddess.”

  Sure. Anyway, she knew you were a woman and yet tried to seduce you.

  “Sounds about right,” I said, tuning out my partner’s comments, whose occupation seemed to alternate between raising my morale and pissing me off to the point that I wanted to tear my own eyes out, since his were unavailable.

  Homosexual practices are as ineffable to me as heterosexual ones.

  The racist and sexist god did not have what it took to be homophobic. Little victories. I held on to what I could.

  Ten souls had been collected, either convinced or forced to return. Most with as many faults as virtues. I had laid in them the future of humanity, and they would need a leader. Someone who used all their characteristics, good or bad, for a common purpose. It didn’t matter if they would return to Earth close to each other, by few or many years apart, or the language they would speak—a good leader knew no barriers to uniting those under their command. A leader inspired. Served as an example with each thought and attitude, in life and after death. Leaders formed an unbreakable bond of trust and partnership with their following.

  I would pay a v
isit to the greatest leader to have ever existed. A man who subdued twelve rebel princes and fought twelve great battles against invaders of his beloved land, where he was made king only in the hearts of the people, never officially. The land where he was born, raised, and where he fought. It was said that Britain still awaits his return to triumph over the enemies who ravaged, plundered, destroyed, and conquered the realm.

  I was going to the king who never wore a crown, governor of an empty throne, the shield and sword of Britain, the eternal scourge of the Saxons. Ward of a druid, brother of a witch, bastard of a Pendragon.

  I was going to Arthur.

  13

  THE MISTS OF FREEDOM

  The blocks fell into place with the usual speed and diligence. I was on an island sunk in fog. A dense white curtain stretched all over, making it impossible to see a few steps ahead.

  I treaded carefully, paying attention to any smell and sound. The energy was too negative on that island. A sense of doom and disgrace dominated that cursed place. The mists seemed to carry death.

  I want to ask you something.

  “What is it?” I asked, adjusting the sword in a combat position.

  When it’s all over, can we find a way to take me out of here?

  “Want to go back to Earth?”

  Is it possible?

  “Only if humans call for you, which I find difficult, since you wound up here. Maybe as a human, but I wouldn’t send you back.”

  Neither would I accept. Chuck seemed to reflect on the matter. I don’t care then. I can stay in the Limbo, but out of this prison at least. I want freedom.

  “We can try.”

  No.

  I stopped and looked at Chuck.

  “No what?”

  Trying is not enough. Do you have any idea what it’s like to live just thinking, turning what’s left of you around inside a can, able to talk only to an absolutely boring person or with the few exceptions that can hear you? Enough. Promise we’ll get me out of here.

  Chuck had that weird personality, but he was much better than before. He was a wicked god, after all, and gods rarely change, for better or worse. But our bonding caused this change not only in him but in me as well—a small step for a man, a giant leap for godkind.