by Daniel Caet
As if she had been waiting for that question all along, the woman smiled slightly and looked Becca directly in the eye as she spoke.
“Your name is Rebecca Engels and you are Lucifer's daughter. Like you, many others have carried the burden of belonging to a long family that goes back, as you should know, to the days of Sumer and Akkad. You were born in December, and you were the most beautiful baby I've ever seen and, believe me, I've seen many. My hands were those that brought you into this world and put you in the arms of your mother, a mother who, because of the immense love she had for you, had to give up on you to protect you from those who wanted her evil and yours. The mother you think you remember, that woman in the painting, was another descendant of Helel who opened her heart to adopt you and give you her name, willing to raise you like her own daughter and protect you with her own life, and unfortunately, that was the price she had to pay. Luckily, she managed to save you and make you disappear in the world so that you could have the life that no member of this family could ever have. Unfortunately, this family's past always ends up reaching us all.”
Becca didn't know what to say. Those words had been pronounced slowly, making sure that all of them would be understood without a doubt, but in her mind, it seemed as if a submachine gun discharged all its ammunition into her at close range. Lies. That was the only idea that came to mind. How many lies had surrounded her life? Was there any truth in it? According to that woman, everything had been done to protect her; but to protect her from what? And how did she protect her isolating her from the rest of her family and condemning her to a life of solitude?
“I know you can't understand it,” the woman continued reading her thoughts again, “but everything that has been done, right or wrong, was done for love. Even the pain generated was generated as a result of love. I guess that really is the nature of love.”
Becca wanted to say a thousand things, but none of them materialised in words. Her ideas were entangled in her head, and she was not able to order them to build something coherent.
“Rebecca, your life is not that of any mortal, because you are not any mortal. And, for that very reason, the dangers to which you are exposed are not those of any other person and those dangers have existed since the day you were conceived. To protect you from these dangers we have had to make decisions that in many cases you will not understand, but that were taken with only one idea in mind, your safety.”
“And, to keep me safe, did you have to get me away from it all? You condemned me to spend my life completely alone ...”
“We condemn you to an exile that at least allowed you to have a life,” the woman replied. “And, even if you don't believe it right now, you were never alone.”
“No, it's true, you took care that your particular spy was there by my side, who undoubtedly told you each and every one of my movements,” she said, turning to look at Charice with contempt. “How could you do this? How could you shut up so long without telling me anything? You were the only person I trusted.”
“You are being absolutely unfair, Charice and her mother have been by your side all this time to ensure your safety.”
“Your mother?” Becca asked even more confused.
“Do you remember the day Claire died?” Charice whispered.
Becca felt a chill run down her back. She remembered that day too well. She remembered the laughter of the other girls in the school halls, the whispers as they pointed at her with the finger like the fool from whom the boyfriend had been robbed. She remembered wanting to run away, escape and run into the bathroom, hoping she could be alone and safe, only to meet Claire, who was responsible for her misfortune. That was a golden opportunity to make her feel even more miserable that this troubled and aggressive girl was not going to let go, and the teasing and comments about that boy soon began to spurt out of her mouth. But the moment when the last drop filled the glass was when Claire suggested that, in fact, all that had been done just to hurt her and not for real interest in that boy. At that moment the memories disappeared and only one emotion remained, the anger. When she could return to herself there was nothing left around her except a burned room and Claire's black and contracted body on the floor in front of her. And the hug. Someone's arms wrapping her with tenderness and taking her out of that hell she had generated.
“It was a woman,” she whispered, “it was one of the school nuns who found me and took me out of there. I never knew how she could guess that inside that charred room there was someone alive. I remember she was small, with long dark hair. I had seen her before at school, but she never talked to anyone, the other girls joked that it was because she didn't know the language, she was ...” And Becca couldn't continue when she realised what she was going to say.
“Exact. Japanese,” Charice continued in a shy voice. “My mother's name was Shiori.”
“Now I understand why in all these years you've never wanted me to meet your parents. You didn't want me to discover your secret.”
“Shiori was my friend for longer than I can remember, and when I needed her help again, she didn't hesitate to offer it without objection, not only her own but her daughter's, even if that meant risking her own lives. And, unfortunately, she finally had to sacrifice herself to keep you safe.”
Becca was horrified. She had gone from the rage of feeling betrayed by Charice to discover that this woman had lost her own mother for her, and that made her feel deeply bad.
“The incident caught the attention of the same creatures that have tried to end your life recently,” the woman continued, “so it didn't cost them much to locate you at school the night before you left for New York to start at the University. Shiori detected their presence and confronted them, preventing them from reaching you, but she had to use all her power to defeat them, and that cost her life.”
“My mother died that night knowing that she was sacrificing for something and someone she considered worthy of sacrifice, and the next day, I took her place becoming your best friend to always be by your side and to protect you as she had done,” Charice continued. “However, what I had initially accepted as a commitment of family honour, eventually became an act of love because you truly became my best friend, the only one I have ever had.”
Becca stared at her friend and couldn't help two big tears rolling down her face. There were no more words or gestures. They were not necessary. Only a slight smile replaced the phrases and apologies. Those two women had been united for years and that union had not been broken. Becca's face darkened at the thought of everything Charice had had to sacrifice for her. She turned to look at the other woman who was still like a sphinx unaffected by anything.
“So many people have sacrificed their lives to keep me safe, but why? What is so important in me that it can interest so many people? Simply my father's identity?”
“You still don't see it?” the woman replied with some degree of frustration. “Because you are Helel’s daughter, you are by definition a Nephilim, a creature half human half angel, which makes you a very special being and with a power that you still do not know. A being that is a threat to the power that others have exercised for millennia. By blood you are also linked to the throne of hell which gives you enormous value as a currency. Do you know what some creatures of the underworld would give to have your father at their mercy? And if that was not enough, for your father you are the only one who can take him to the key that will open the door of heaven.”
Becca's face was broken. She didn't understand anything at all. That woman was half telling her things that she couldn't decipher. Who were those creatures that seemed to threaten her? And what was that supposed key to heaven that his father wanted? And why did everything revolve around her?
“I don't expect you to understand it now,” the woman continued, and Becca had no doubt by now that she could read her mind, “but I hope this will help you,” she said as she handed her a book with golden leather covers and the same symbols she had seen in the previous volume engraved on the
front. Becca took the book with trembling hands. It was beautiful. It was not like those she had received before, it was obvious that it was bound with care to make it a jewel. Hers fingers moved through the slightly yellowed pages, blank as those of the volumes she had read.
“I suppose you've already figured out what it is. This volume should tell you the continuation of the story that you have been able to read so far and clarify many of the things we talked about today.”
“It's very beautiful,” said Becca, unable to take her eyes off the deck.
“It's not the original binding, of course. The original was destroyed in the seventeenth century, this was made by an old friend in Amsterdam.”
“These symbols ...”
“It's your father's name in angelic language.”
Becca toured the symbols with her fingers recreating on each line and each curve.
“The pages are still blank. Have you not read it?” she asked.
The woman laughed slightly, and her face relaxed just for a few seconds.
“I couldn't even if I wanted to,” she said, smiling this time. “Only Helel's blood can reveal the text, so only you can read it, it is your heritage. I want you to take it to your hotel and read it tonight. Come back tomorrow and I promise you, if you still have any doubts, I will not hesitate to answer it,” she said as she rose from her seat and headed for the door. “Now if you excuse me, I must leave you, I have another commitment that I must attend to.”
“One second.” And she rose like a spring with the intention of going after the woman who turned to look at her. “I have one last question.”
“Yes?”
“If Genevieve was not my true mother, that means you and I are not family ...”
“Oh, we are!” the woman replied, smiling, “but not in the way you expected.”
“But, if you're not my grandmother, why are you doing all this?” asked Becca.
“Because a long time ago I promised that I would take care of Helel's children, all of them.”
That phrase left Becca frozen when she realised what it really meant, and the name came out of her lips almost in a whisper.
“Sadith”
The woman looked her straight in the eye for a few seconds before answering.
“The sons of Helel’s have always called me aunt.” And she went out the door leaving behind only the echo of her heels and her wonderful perfume.
That night at the hotel Becca repeated the ritual by making a small cut in the hand to deposit a few drops of blood on the pages of the book that immediately filled with words written with a beautiful and fluid calligraphy that filled the eyes. But this time she was not alone as on the previous occasions, she had asked Charice to accompany her and read the story with her. And there, in a hotel in Paris, reading a book long time forgotten, Becca realised that she had never been alone at all.
Sacrifice
There is nothing more intoxicating than power. Its essence is the most addictive of all existing ones, it gets under the skin and creeps into your mind until you can't think of anything else. No force comes close to its influence, not even love, money or sex, for the simple reason that power can get you all of them. There are no creatures more susceptible to ambition for power than others, there are only those who recognise it and those who do not and, from the moment I sat on that throne, it was clear that this ambition had been dormant inside me for too long. And soon I would discover that this was a family defect.
My first months as lord of hell passed around a single obsession, to find Sadith and Ankh's daughter who seemed to have disappeared from the face of the earth from the moment of my ascent. And it wasn't the only thing I had lost. My sword, the only memory of what I had once been, and the only thing left of my father's gifts, had also disappeared. I had returned to the place where I had to leave it to find that it was no longer there. It was obvious to me that both facts should be related, although I could not understand why Sadith stayed away from me or what interest my sword could have for her. At that time, I had no idea what I would do with my sword if I found it since I couldn't take it with me to the underworld, but it didn't matter, it was the only vestige of a past that I refused to forget. With the help of the new resources that my role as lord of hell gave me, I made sure that an exhaustive search began across all the lands of men. I must find Sadith no matter how. I had no doubt that, should she want to, Sadith could hide from me for a long time, but I knew that sooner or later she would make a mistake, and at that moment I would take care of having eyes and ears everywhere that could detect her.
My time elapsed between that search and other much more pleasant activities derived from my new status. It soon became apparent that there were numerous creatures in the underworld interested in gaining the appreciation and consideration of their new lord no matter what it was necessary to do in order to get close to the throne. A situation that I decided to get the most out of. Perhaps it was the influence of the energy of the underworld that now circulated through my being, but, although since I had become human I had enjoyed sex on many occasions, my body and mind opened to all kinds of new experiences in that field and embraced them with a hunger as I had never felt.
Unfortunately, power has another characteristic from which it is impossible to escape, it is unstable, and that instability soon hit me in the face. The chiefs of some of the demonic clans decided that they did not like the idea that their ruler was human, whether by birth or by transmutation, although that ruler had reached the throne according to their traditions by killing his predecessor, and decided to rise against me. That uprising culminated in what would later be called the wars of the underworld and it had me very entertained for many centuries, but that is another story. The fact is that, while I spent my time exploiting my talents as a soldier and strategist and developing a special taste for massacring my enemies until extinction, time continued to pass in the lands of men until one day I decided to leave my throne to stroll again through the places I had once known.
I went to Thebes hoping to find the same great city that I had left, but nothing was left of all that. From the hills of the eastern shore I looked at the city to find that it was not even that, but little more than a village. The great buildings and temples had long since been abandoned, and the houses that remained standing were concentrated around the temple of the restoration, the place where the pharaohs had been traditionally crowned. Gone were the days of splendour and magnificence, no one remembered Seti or Rameses, and the Karnak temple, although it was still standing and some priests lived there, it appeared dull and in a state of abandonment. On the south side of the city, a military camp now occupied a large area of land. One more sign of the inescapable passing of time and the unimportance of the kingdoms of men. Those empires that once were immense and seemed indestructible were no more than dust and memories and had been replaced by others that, in turn, would fall when their time came to never rise again.
“Remembering old days, my lord?” said a mellow voice next to me suddenly.
“Kashna, I think I've been clear when I said I don't want anyone to bother me. What are you doing here?” I replied to the creature without even looking at her in a tone that left no doubt about my discomfort from her intrusion.
“Well, my lord, I want to believe that I am not anyone, at least that is what you make me believe when you are between my legs,” said the woman, moving to stand just in front of me. “Also, you'll be interested to know what I have to tell you.”
“Say whatever it is and leave me, I don't have time for your games now,” I ordered, but my eyes couldn't help traversing her body that I knew so well. “That dress is not usual for you,” I said when I saw that she was covered from top to bottom by a dark linen tunic that hid her body to the feet.
“Well, I come from traveling in the world of men, my lord, I hope you will excuse me. Maybe I'm more recognisable like this?” she said, and in an instant her body was completely naked before me showing all her exuberance inc
luding her four turgid breasts offering herself openly.
“I already told you that I don't have time for this right now,” I replied and noticed how I was beginning to lose my temper. “Say what you have to say or leave.”
“As you wish, my lord,” and her hand began to play with the short skirt I was wearing. “I just thought you would like to know a rumour that I have heard among the soldiers of the garrison of that northern city, that of the lighthouse.”
“Alexandria”
“Yes, that one. You know I'm not good with names, I am more into body language,” and her tongue played with her lips in the most sensual way possible. “It turns out I've been there, looking for something to entertain myself with ...”
“I have no doubt,” I replied, and the woman laughed like a rattle with mock modesty.
“The fact is that the soldiers talked about an incredible event. Apparently, one of them was wounded in a battle beyond the sea and was taken to his great city to die, but there a woman was able to heal him against all hope. Apparently, the woman was some kind of witch or healer.”
“And why should I care in the least about the superstitious fools of men?” I replied irritably.
“Well, what I found curious, my lord, was the name that people gave to that woman,” she said, pausing like the cat that licks before killing the mouse. “The eternal one. Apparently, that woman says she has lived a man's life many times.”
That comment caught my attention, but I refused to show it.
“What makes you think she could be the one I am looking for?” I asked cautiously.
“Isn't that the reason why you sent the best seer in your kingdom in search of her?” she replied stroking my cock above the skirt. “Obviously, I looked into the memories of the man who told that story and saw something else, something that seems much more important to me.”
“Speak at once!” I said withdrawing her hand.