Burial of hearts the black widow's malice

by Parnham, N

  Behind us walked up the two guards who had been harassing Camerine’s mother.

  “Hello… darling, what do we have here?”. The guard grabbed upon her arm, but she pulled herself off and continued walking with us.

  “We have a feisty one here, maybe we will have to tie her up”.

  “Yes, we should, make her squirm a little; that will be good to watch”. Patting the shoulder of the other guard, he pointed at her and whispered.

  “Fancied some fresh air today gorgeous? Well here, I will give you a full-blown gale”.

  They both stood at either side of her and ripped off the dress she was wearing, leaving her only with undergarments to hide her modesty. They laughed hysterically as they started to walk away, congratulating each other.

  “You filthy dogs, no wonder you work for Hecate, you are disgusting rats like her”. She exploded in anger at them, blaspheming with every word she knew; turning back to Camerine in tears, she was met face to face with Hecate, whom had heard all that had been said.

  “So you, a low peasant consider me a rat? How fascinating it is that a person of little intelligence can construct an opinion”.

  Hecate turned to me.

  “Avis, I take it you now have your pass now”.

  “Yes, I do”.

  Handing her the pass, she looked at the detailing to ensure that in her opinion it was official.

  “Very good, make sure you always carry it, I will not be as merciful as I was the other day”.

  She turned back to Camerine’s mother.

  “Now, you. I think for the words you spoke, I shall make an example of you, all be it a small gesture of my hostilities, I still feel it is necessary”.

  “Guards, execute her immediately”.

  Camerine yelled; hatred and desperation filling his heart. They took her over to the platform to be hung. Cameron was held back by the guards, but he swung for them several times, trying to break free to save his mother. They placed the noose around her neck, her body stiff, she stood still, only looking at Camerine, their eyes met in a moment as a single tear fell and her life ended.

  “You pigs”. He yelled, his body infuriated, lashing out at all whom got in his way.

  “You will pay for this, I swear”.

  “Guards, take Camerine to the prison, I do not wish for his behaviour to spill throughout the city”. Hecate said as she walked over to me.

  “Well now Avis, appears as though I will no longer require your services, being a comrade to such lowly beings”.

  Chapter 9

  It was morning. I had found it very hard to sleep that night. The picture of Camerine’s mother falling repeated on me, each time a separate scenario was created; could there had been anything I could of done differently to prevent it? Was it my fault because I needed to go to the bookstore? We would not have been in that area of town if it was not for me. Camerine was quite happily painting when I interrupted him, asking for help. Perhaps it was not my fault, as Camerine said, his mother wanted treatment, so they would have had to go to that area of town. If the guards had not had been there, none of this would have happened and we would have had the usual peaceful day. I suppose it no longer matters who is to blame, she is dead and he is in prison awaiting his own fate.

  Without a job, I struggled to find anything today that could keep me occupied; apart from the usual tasks of eating and cleaning. I decided I would go to the university, as Camerine had mentioned it has a good selection of material on Hecate.

  The university was one of the largest buildings in the city, raised high, there were numerous statues placed upon the extensive stonework. Entering through the open door that stooped down before me, the walls were crossed with red and golden colours; a large fireplace was affront of me, lit and producing blistering heat. Various pieces of furniture lined the rooms and the hallways, some had a purpose but some were merely there as focal points of inspiration.

  The selection of books was much larger than that Malkaretz Librarium, but as Camerine had mentioned, a large portion of the books were like an altar unto Hecate. I spent a long time looking through all the books that took interest to me. One of the more useful ones I came across had information about her father:

  “Tartarus, father of Hecate, is said to have been murdered by Hecate and placed within a grand tomb outside of the city walls. He tried his upmost to have her marry one whom she did not love”.

  Fascinating, I thought. I put the book back onto the shelving carefully, I did not wish to be the one responsible for it collapsing under all of the weight. I looked through various other books which seemed to drain the life out of me, though I did find one relating to ancient vessels:

  “Through history it is told that there have been many great battles between men, wizards and witches, among many others. The greatest of all of these was aptly named ‘The awakening’ where all evil had crept forth into the world, causing drought, disease and death. Great wizards sought to destroy the evil, but could not; only one chose another path, to trap it within revered stones, resting them upon vessels, bonded by magick”.

  “I will have to inspect the tomb of Hecate’s father, Tartarus”. I said whilst my eyes drifted from side to side, my lips perked in anxiety and thoughtfulness.

  Leaving the university, I was already close to the entrance gate of the city. Pass in hand, I was now confident I could return, if I so wished. I walked through and past the guards, who were preoccupied with a new game they had conceived, involving a stitched pigskin ball, stuffed with hay; the aim of the game was to get it past the other into a small barrel; what a mindless display of so-called skill, hopefully that will never catch on.

  Fog was looming low upon the fields, making ethereal forms that swayed around, lonesome in the distant cold. I could only make out persons close by, even the mountain where I had walked down, as large as it was, had become indistinguishable. There was a thin unpaved trail that led around the walls of the city, past the traders who waited eagerly for their next sale.

  The city cemetery was sited over a bridged stream that fed the irrigation channels for the farm workers. I walked carefully past the headstones, forbidding myself to stand upon any plot that had been reserved for the deceased. I am not usually the type to get startled easily, but due to the conditions, I felt an eerie feeling about the place that crept up my spine with each hoot of an owl.

  “Here lies Tartarus, father unto Hecate, respected nobleman, holder of the secrets of magick, died October 3rd 1133, age unknown”.

  I was affront of his tomb; surrounded by pillared walls; the entrance door was finely shaped by stone masons, showing a scene of children holding onto a draped fabric sheet rising up from a hellish form to God-like perfection. A single wilted black rose lay at the base of the door; the petals were becoming slowly decomposed by the reversal of nature’s gift.

  I knocked slightly upon the door, nodding my head in disbelief after I did, routine I suppose. The wind was increasing in strength, starting to send a chill through me. I grasped onto the handle to the door, no key was required for this; turning, the metalwork that had sealed the door crumbled easily. I could now see within the final resting place of Tartarus. There was a torch rested upon the wall; holding onto the thought of fire, as I had done in the caves close to Yilesul, I lit the torch, taking it down with me into this long, unexplored tomb.

  The steps down were treacherous, moisture from the ground was seeping through, forming trickles of water, ending at the bottom in a deep puddle.

  Walking down to the foot of the steps, through the meagre light of my torch, I could see a rounded expanse with two passages into which I could walk. Upon the centre was a chair, with the remains of a man or woman perched upon it. The hands and feet were wrapped with rusting, spiked chains, now loose as the flesh had departed. I could see something in one of the hands; I walked closer and kneeled down and carefully slid out a piece of parchment that felt wet to the touch. I opened it upon my lap and read it; squinting at times, whe
re the ink had run, trying to keep my eyes open from my lack of sleep.

  “Last Testament of Tartarus.

  All that I am I have given to my daughter; my last breath she is to take from me in her vicious pursuit of power.

  I write this with the last rule that I hold, that it may join me in my tomb, if I am granted one; so that the one whom is destined, may read it.

  My power has all but been taken from me, drawn from within and placed within the heart of a sacred gemstone. Fused as one under moonlight, the revealing shall take place and the door shall open, the only way for it all to cease, shall be given.

  I know it will not be long before I am taken and I forgive her for what she is to do, for as my child I love her deeply, but for the sake of many, she must be stopped.

  I tell you this. The magick that bonds the vessel must first be broken, this can only be done by the sacrifice of one whom is willing; then and only then, can the power be wielded.

  Yours,

  Tartarus”.

  I looked up, thoughts passed through my mind; perchance it may be, that I knew how I was to rid of Hecate, or it may just be an unfeasible coincidence.

  The door slammed shut, the gust of wind must have closed it. Walking back up to the top of the stairs, I tried to open the door, but it did not budge, not even in the slightest; brilliant, I am condemned to be in a tomb meant for someone else; maybe there is another way out.

  I had a choice to make. It was either the left or the right passage, but which one? I peered closer, looking aback, making sure Tartarus was not moving at all; with all the strange occurrences I had come across in this city, nothing was beyond comprehension.

  Both of the passages had a menacing appearance about them; but the left one, I had decided, looked as if daylight was reflecting upon the moistened walls; it could have just been the light from the torch, but either way I needed a choice and this was the simplest way to make a decision.

  I stepped into the passage, ensuring my balance with one hand and holding the torch with the other, as I walked down the steps that were chiselled from dense rock. The damp smell in the air, reminded me of when Doris would bring the dirty linen indoors to dry in winter not wishing for it to freeze overnight. Reaching the bottom, I had to crouch down, jumping off a ledge to make any headway.

  Before me was an otherworldly cavern; I stood upon a dock, the wooden boards swaying with the approaching of tides. There was a small boat aside of the dock. It was dimly lit with an oil lantern flickering without the brushing of air upon it. I looked further down into the cavern, trees had managed to somehow survive here, creeping their branches over the river, entwining amid each other.

  I stepped into the boat with careful judgement and almost falling as I did, gratefully I regained my balance, before the tipping of fate. I picked up the oar that had been placed within the boat, plunging it within the waters, after first removing the rope that held the boat in place.

  I made my way upriver, always looking and listening for any menaces prowling. On a ledge close by, a group of furious black-headed wolves had gathered, watching every movement I made through their deadly looking eyes. Their fur stood on end and they began to snarl at me, considering all possible ways to get to me, but unless they could swim this would not be a problem. I continued despite of this, moving underneath the roots of a tree which had encircled the river below.

  Throughout, I avoided jagged rocks that appeared as sharp as a predatory dagger, fallen from the roof of the cavern, worn away by the trickling of water until no longer could they withstand.

  The water’s pace now quickening, it began to rumble, not a rumble like an earthquake, but as though someone breathing.

  The boat flung into the air with a violent blow, throwing water upon me in an unimpeded stream. I gripped on as tightly as I could; falling back down, I became soaked as a wave from behind rose over me. Balancing myself, I looked below the water’s top. It was spiralling, developing an unruly whirlpool. Panicking, I pushed as hard as I could, evading from the force that drove it. Rising from the water, an obscene creature placed itself upon the edge of my boat. I suddenly felt a colossal of urge to escape rising through me; I kept sweeping my oar at the water, aggressively trying to loosen the grip it had.

  My arms were starting to tire from the constant battle against the trying river. The creature had almost managed to climb in, I stopped and turned towards it; hissing at me, it protruded a tongue split at the centre that was able to move independently. As opportunity was ripe, I took hold and struck with my oar, knocking it aback for a moment; but it did not lose grip. The creature’s skin was the pedestal of unspeakable parasites, burrowing below, they caused wounds that wept putrid puss from within.

  Although I condemned it to death within my mind, the creature still prevailed against all the blows I gave upon it.

  It was before me, crawling upon the base of the boat. It beamed a smile, sickening to the soul, the lustrous white fangs I had imagined, shown as rancid fragments, encrusted with disease. It swiped a claw, almost ripping through me; help me, anyone please, I thought; just at that moment, what I was told before, came to me.

  “Uklay san heuson vareno”. I said the words I had been taught.

  I was struck, but it did no harm, I was now protected, at least momentarily anyway; the creature had no powers, not even ones as meagre as mine, so I struck repeatedly; getting closer, I hit as hard as my arms would allow, knocking the creature back into the depths from whence it came; I watched as it slowly descended down, a final closure of the eyes cementing a fraction of calm within me.

  I swiftly moved through the cavern, often looking aback to ensure I was not being followed by any person(s) or creature(s). A faint light was affront of me, gradually increasing as I gained momentum, until reaching upon a tear in the rocks.

  I stopped for a moment, my boat still stirring from the force of the water. I was upon a lake, life trickled by in disregard to my presence. I gazed around, squinting to keep the sun from blinding my sight. There was what appeared to be a small village on the tusk of the shore; small cottages lined up together, with a church close by.

  As I got closer, I realised I knew this place, it was the one from my dream, when I was close to Yilesul. How would I know exactly what a place looked like when I had never been here before in my whole life?

  I walked upon the shore, hiding behind a pile of crates as two persons walked past. I could hear them clearly talking to each other in quite a sharp, aggressive manner.

  “You shall not be given it and that is final; I will not have any further word on this”.

  “Father, you do not understand, it is my destiny that I shall hold the power that it shall give me”.

  “No, you will not. You will only use it to destroy. There is no one, myself included, whom will sacrifice for you. Now you have to prepare. You are to be married today”.

  “I will not marry him father, he is unknown to my heart, I refuse”.

  Grabbing her by the hair, he faced her, his skin now ignited to a scorching red as his anger rose.

  “You shall honour my choices for you; do you not know how fragile my reign here is as of late? Through war, we have lost great amounts”.

  “Father, you are hurting me”.

  “Perhaps I will let go when the pain in my soul stops ripping at me; when you show some compassion for me and do as I rightly say; when you stop acting like your mother once did; come with me”.

  He grabbed her by the arm tightly, pulling her along as she struggled to keep grip upon the ground, eventually giving in and walking with heavy footsteps alongside him. I followed, trying to get as close to them as I could without being seen. As she walked she turned towards my direction, I could see her face clearly, but it could not be her surely? Hecate, but younger and she only had one body and not three. I stood there confused with what was occurring, but how could she call him father when he was dead.

  They walked along the path that trailed the side of a might
y wall; often I would hear shouting and crying coming from her as he continued to forcefully make her follow him.

  Turning the corner, I was stunned, as if I was seeing a mirage, I could see the fields and the entrance to the city; but this city was Rartonvie, I could have not travelled as far out as I had through the cavern. I entered and as I did, I presented the guards with my pass; but they paid no attention, as if I was an illusion to them; very well I thought and walked in.

  I followed them through a most familiar route, past the centre of the city, weaving beyond the shops towards where Hecate lived. There must have been something very wrong in the city today, as all the people I often spoke to, ignored me completely.

  The guards were not stood at their posts, this will infuriate Hecate, I thought; she was one for the tightest of security at her home. I walked up towards the door that was left wide open, Hecate was huddled on the floor, while the father, presumably Tartarus, was looking down upon her.

  “Sorry, I did not mean to interrupt, I just wanted to make sure you were both ok”. I said after finally receiving the courage to speak up.

  They did not respond in any form. Am I invisible today or something? I stood watching as they argued.

  “I have told you, no more, you will not have it”.

  Turning towards the back of the room, he ran his finger over the gems upon the door, each one igniting in colour as his fingers trailed over them; the final one lightning, the door opened before him. He walked into the room, turning back to Hecate.

  “This is the last you will see of this amulet”.

  He placed it down within the room, then closed the door with a motion of his hand.

  “I hate you”. Hecate roared, rising up from the floor, her face showing the malicious thoughts her mind grazed upon.

  “This is for your own good; you may one day learn to appreciate this”.