Of Night and Desire

by Of Night

  Meticulously, Madame Selene laid the cards out before her three in a row—the Empress, the King of Pentacles, and the two of cups. She studied the cards for a moment and then looked up at Richelle.

  “We have waited a long time for your arrival, my child.”

  “You have?” Richelle asked, her brow furrowing.

  “Oh yes. Your coming was foretold long ago.” She picked up the cards on the table and added them to the deck. She held out the cards for Richelle to take, which she did, clasping them between her hands.

  A plethora of questions ran through her mind as the cards grew warm in her hands. Who are you? What am I to become? Why am I here? Why did my mother and Duncan have to die? Who are these crazy people following me? Why does the Evil One haunt my dreams? Will I ever be safe? Know life? Know love? As her mind burned with all her queries, Richelle noticed that her hands were becoming increasingly warmer, the cards seemingly drawing energy from her until they were almost too hot to handle.

  The seer held out her hand for the cards. As Richelle handed them back and looked at her hands, she could swear she saw the strange image from the tarot cards engraved into her palms, very light, similar to a henna tattoo, but definitely there. And then it disappeared before her eyes.

  “So many questions for one so young. And so many that you know the answers for but are unwilling to accept.”

  “How do you know my questions? I haven’t asked anything yet.”

  The old woman chortled lightheartedly, amused at Richelle’s responses.

  “You have the heart of a child who has ridden a unicorn, but the doubtful nature of an adult who will not believe unless you ride the unicorn yourself.” She began to lay the cards out in a pattern on the table. First one, and then another lying sideways across the first. One to the left, one to the right. One above and one below. And then she placed three face down beneath the pattern.

  “Who I am is of no concern. Who you are to become is up to you. You are here to fulfill the prophecy. It is your destiny. And Adelaide and Duncan died because that was their destiny.”

  Richelle swallowed hard, trying to dislodge the lump in her throat. She had not wanted to believe her mother’s death and Duncan’s were preordained. She believed one’s path in life was determined by one’s choices. But there were a finite number of choices in each decision, which led to other paths, which led to other paths.

  But ultimately, no one was beyond the reach of the Tapestry of Life the Fates wove. Death was a bitter fact of life. It could not be avoided. It could be rejected and delayed, but in the end, it all fell on the Circle of Life.

  Her eyes became misty as she thought of her mother and Duncan. She had never mourned the passing of either. She loved them both so dearly, and yet she had never truly grieved for them. Instead, she spent her energy on the unfairness of their needless deaths, her emptiness at being left alone, her vow to live in solitude so no one would get hurt because of her…so she would never know such hurt again. Selfish castigation. Never once did she celebrate their lives, the joy they brought to her life or the sacrifices they made for her.

  As if sensing her self-reproach, Madame Selene patted her hand and smiled ruefully, her eyes reflecting the wisdom that came with age and the empathy of one who had suffered much pain and sorrow in her life. Richelle sniffed as she wiped her eyes.

  “All my life I have been told about this so-called prophecy, but no one will tell me what it is. What is this prophecy and what does it have to do with me?”

  Madame Selene’s smile fell, and she became somber. She spoke in a hush, as if the walls of her tents had ears.

  “Long ago when the mountains were young, mortals and Immortals shared the land. A village at the base of their mountain became aware of the nature of the Immortals, of their great power and their need for blood, and they feared the Immortals even though no one from their village had ever been attacked or injured by one. The villagers raised crops, raised livestock, and raised families. They lived in fear the Immortals one day would destroy their village.”

  Richelle stared at the crystal ball sitting upon the pedestal as it began to glow. An iridescent mist filled the orb, and figures appeared in the shimmering haze.

  “But their fear was misdirected towards the Immortals. There were evils threatening their lives, but they came from outside their peaceful mountain home, evils in the shape of both man and beast.”

  Richelle watched silently as violent images appeared in the crystal— raiders pillaging hapless villages, women tortured and raped, men and children murdered. Mythical demons she had seen only in children’s fairy tales descended upon villages and utterly destroyed them. Horrified, she stuffed a fist into her mouth to muffle her scream of repugnance and to drive down the nausea churning her stomach.

  “The Elders of the village, in the hope of saving their people, went to the Immortals and implored for their protection. The Immortals knew well how the humans feared them. The humans were distrustful and suspicious, even of their own kind, let alone a powerful race such as Immortals. The Great One, leader of the Immortals, saw this as an opportunity to bridge the gap between their two peoples and show the humans they had nothing to fear from them.”

  Richelle gasped at the image of The Great One. He was strikingly handsome, with long, flowing silver hair and silvery eyes. He was an imposing image and was unquestionably the most handsome man she had ever seen…aside from Valya. He shook hands with a portly man, no doubt an elder from the village.

  “From that day, the Immortals became the protectors of mankind. They used their strength, wisdom, and powers to protect the humans of the mountain from evil.”

  The images in the crystal ball showed Guardians such as Valya fighting off armies of invaders as well as demon spawn, driving them from their mountain home. Richelle gasped as she saw a familiar face in the battle. Valya, a much younger, leaner version but still her Valya. She watched in schoolgirl admiration as he battled fiercely against the marauders despite his young age in comparison to his comrades.

  As the images faded and turned to fog, Richelle leaned forward and touched the crystal with her hands, willing the pictures to return. She felt the seer’s hand cover hers, drawing her attention from the absent images. Richelle met Madame Selene’s compassionate expression. She settled back into her chair as Madame Selene pulled a slim black cigarette from her cloak and lit it from the burning candle.

  After a long inhale, she blew out a stream of smoke that hovered over the table like a halo. Cloves. Richelle smelled the distinct odor of cloves. The scent was both invigorating, yet calming as Madame Selene continued, her somber expression foretelling the appalling change in the history of Valya’s people.

  “For many centuries, the pact between man and Immortals was upheld, and there was peace in the mountains. Humans lived their lives in peace with no fear, believing the word of an Immortal to be unbreakable.”

  She paused again to take several draws from her cigarette. The smoke lingered, creating a mimicked image from the tarot cards, the same image Richelle had thought she saw burned into her palm.

  “Time passed. And as the destiny of all things, with the passage of time came change.”

  Shimmering again, the mist of the crystal ball faded to reveal two men, apparently Immortals based upon their size and features, arguing with each other. One was The Great One. The other was a young blond. Although he was as handsome as any other of his race, she sensed there was inexplicably something sinister about him.

  “Though a proud and honorable race, Immortals were not immune to the temptation of evil or to the lures of the seven deadly sins. There were those who sought only to fulfill their basest needs and desires, thereby desecrating the pact made by The Great One with the humans.”

  Images of deceit and betrayal appeared in the mist, of humans fighting in vain against ostracized Immortals. She stared aghast at the level of malicious cruelty they inflicted as the weak were tortured and murdered. The sheer barbarism as t
hey fed and enslaved the minds of their victims appalled her.

  “They believed humans were nothing more than chattel to serve their needs. As those corrupted blatantly exhibited their power and enslavement of those they were bound by oath to protect, humans began to hide in distrust and fear of all Immortals. Over time, the humans came up with a new word to call those who had fallen and preyed on the helpless, consuming their blood and destroying their souls. Vampyre.”

  Madame Selene became silent as the images faded and the crystal ball became dark. Richelle sat back in her chair, not realizing that she had been so intent in viewing the images that she was all but standing atop the table. She rubbed her eyes, sore from staring unblinking at ghostly images from the past.

  As Madame Selene took the last draw from her cigarette and snuffed it on a brass plate to her right, her expression softened. Richelle could swear there was a twinkle in her eyes. Madame Selene reached over and took Richelle’s hands, squeezing them reassuringly before lifting her hand to stroke a few stray tendrils from Richelle’s cheek.

  “And now the time for change has come. It has taken many centuries, but with your arrival, the prophecy can be fulfilled.”

  “Madame Selene, all my life I have been told about being part of some prophecy,” Richelle stated calmly. She reached up and pressed the old seer’s hand against her cheek, seeking some small measure of comfort. “Please, Madame, won’t you please tell me why I have been hunted? What is this prophecy?”

  Richelle’s hand hovered in midair as Madame Selene pulled her hand away to place it on the table, almost touching the tarot cards lying before her.

  “Among the Vampyres, there was a very powerful Immortal called Luka cel Rau, who was particularly cruel. When Immortals first started to protect mortals, he took great delight in openly defying The Great One. He was chosen to train the Guardians in their duties in service to the humans. But instead, he searched for those who believed as he did, that humans were nothing more than cattle to work the field and serve as food.

  “When The Great One learned of the deception, he cast Luka out, condemning him to the outside world, never to return to the mountains again. Luka vowed vengeance. He vowed to enslave mankind, destroy the Immortals, and create his own lineage of Immortals.

  “It was then the Great One revealed the vision from his dreams. Luka would not fulfill his legacy of evil. He would be thwarted in his plans by a union between the Immortals and the humans. A Guardian would take a human bride descended from aristocracy, blessed by the Goddess, as his life mate. Their joining would unite the peoples from both races, and together, they would destroy Luka and his followers. You were born to save our world.”

  Richelle’s brow knitted in bewilderment. All the devastation and death that had followed her through life was based upon what? A future wedding that may come to pass?

  “Madame, how can they be so sure that I am the woman of the prophecy?” Richelle questioned as she tried to process this new information. “Over the centuries, I’m sure there have been other women who have been more powerful, more deserving than I.”

  Madame Selene’s chuckled response only confused Richelle more. She didn’t see anything remotely funny about being targeted by religious fanatics and Vampyres with visions of supremacy for believing she was something she wasn’t. Her family, while affluent in the old country, was not descended from aristocracy. And the so-called blessing from the Goddess had never been more than a curse to her. It has to be a mistake.

  “No, my child. There is no doubt you are the one to fulfill the prophecy.”

  “But how can you be so sure?”

  Madame Selene smiled and pointed to the cards lying before her.

  “It is in the cards. You must accept your destiny.”

  With her lower lip starting to tremble, Richelle shook her head as if her disbelieving would negate the reality of the prophecy.

  “Please. It can’t be me,” she stated, trying to remain calm. “I don’t do well with people. I can’t be in a room for more than five minutes without trying to escape the pain. I know little about the Immortals and even less about humanity. I’ve always lived alone with minimal contact with other people. How can I be expected to save the world?”

  “With faith and love. You must believe in yourself and your love for Valya. You must believe that when the time comes, you will have the strength and courage to do what needs to be done.”

  Richelle’s lip stopped trembling as she gazed into the immeasurable depths of Madame Selene’s eyes. They were as boundless as the universe, filled with stars twinkling in their rich blue hue. Her eyes still reflected the wonder of a child and belied her advanced years and the troubles of the world. They were the eyes she imagined belonged to a kindly grandmother to whom you could tell anything and she would understand.

  “I’m not that strong,” she confessed.

  Madame Selene reached over to clasp Richelle’s hands again. With a raise of her chin and a proud smile, she lovingly reassured her.

  “You will be.”

  * * * *

  It took some time, but Valya finally made it to the head of the line and purchased a caramel apple for Richelle. Before he had lost his sense of taste, he was taken in by the enticing aroma, just had Richelle had been. But one taste was enough, especially since the rich sweetness of the caramel was deflated by the gooey substance sticking to his fangs. He looked like a dog eating peanut butter, and it was an experience he did not wish to repeat.

  But it was an experience he was excited to share with Richelle. To watch her enjoy this sweet treat with all the relish and jubilation of a child pleased him. More than he wanted to admit.

  It had been a long time since he had felt any emotion. But when he did, they weren’t like this. Before, his emotions were harsher, darker. And now, those were overshadowed by the tenderness he felt for Richelle. Now he wanted nothing more than her happiness and would do anything to lay the world at her feet. For him, those feelings were both intimidating and empowering. And on some level, that scared him.

  But not as scared as he felt as he returned to where he had left Richelle and found her gone. Frantically, he looked about, but she was nowhere in sight. He closed his eyes and tried to sense where she was. Nothing. He broke into a cold sweat as bile rose in his throat.

  The caramel apple slipped from his fingers as he began searching, trying to rein in his emotions. If she were still at the carnival, he should have been able to sense her. Again, nothing. Going from tent to tent, he tore through amidst confusion and chaos of the inhabitants. His mind screamed out trying to reach her. He had just found her. He would not lose her now.

  As he searched, he prayed to the Gods she was all right. He hoped whoever was trying to take her from him would also pray to the Gods for mercy.

  For he wouldn’t show them any.

  * * * *

  Richelle gaped at the strange pictures on the cards before Madame Selene, trying to decipher the message the seer could read. To Richelle, it was merely a jumble of colors and eccentric imagery. It doesn’t make any sense. None of this makes any sense, she thought as she slouched in her chair and rubbed her temples.

  Everything was coming at her so fast she barely had time to catch her breath. Finding out about Duncan. Losing the cabin. Learning about Preacher and his Believers. About Luka. And Valya.

  Valya. Oh no! Richelle abruptly sat up in her chair. Valya has no idea where I am. Looking about, she tried to find the opening in the tent where she entered.

  “Do not fear, my child. Valya is near, searching for you.”

  “I have to go to him.” With the attacks by the Believers, she didn’t want to imagine what Valya could be thinking. Saying he was overprotective was an understatement. At the least, he reminded her of a mother hen hovering over her chick as she took her first steps. And at the most, he was a predatory hawk, ready to swoop down on anyone who threatened her. She rose from her chair to leave, but Madame Selene patted her hand, encouraging
her to stay.

  “Before you leave, I must warn you.”

  Richelle gave a quick harrumph under her breath. Religious fanatics and evil incarnate were chasing her, not to mention her so-called “boyfriend” appeared to be more than a few centuries old. What more could there possibly be?

  “Valya is a good man. He loves you like no other.”

  In that, Richelle had no doubt.

  “And he is a strong man,” Madame Selene continued. “Strong enough to defeat Luka to protect his rose, but so strong he may crush the rose he holds in his hand. You must learn from his strength as he must learn from your trust. Otherwise Luka will defeat you both.”

  “What must I do?”

  Madame Selene chuckled as she drew another cigarette from her robe and lit it. After taking a long drag and exhale, she quirked a smile at Richelle. She stood, taking Richelle by the hand to pull her from her seat and lead her toward the flap of her tent.

  “You, my dear child, must grow thorns.” She pulled aside the curtain and gave Richelle a small push outside the tent. “Now, go find Valya as I fear he may be causing some trouble as he searches for you.”

  Richelle stopped a moment to let her eyes adjust to light. She hadn’t realized how dark it was in the tent. And as her vision cleared, the silence she had enjoyed disappeared. It crept up on her slowly, but soon her head was filled with the voices of those around her. Remembering what Valya had told her, she closed her eyes and inhaled slowly, deeply. She envisioned a wall around her mind, trying to shut out all she didn’t want to hear.

  Slowly…as slowly as the voices had crept in…she was able to shut them out. She smiled at her accomplishment, as easy as leaving a room and closing the door behind her. She opened her eyes and looked about. She watched people walking arm in arm, waiting in lines for the rides, talking, screaming, and laughing. But in her head, it was blessedly silent, and she could have wept for joy. She couldn’t wait to tell Valya.

  That is, if she could find Valya.

  Looking around, she didn’t see any sign of him. How am I going to find him. She hurried down a few of the corridors, searching for him. He hadn’t left the carnival she was sure. Like a tickle she could sense his presence in the outer reaches of her mind.