Chapter Eight
The dawn was breaking by the time David and Demetria made it to the farm. The trail emerged from the woods and crossed an expansive rolling field that was bordered by old fir trees.
“When we walk, we’re basically invisible,” David observed, “especially when we take these trails. Nobody even goes outside anymore. It’s incredible--they live in a box, drive in a box, shop in a box and are buried in a box.”
Demetria put the cloak hood down. Her black hair was streaked with gray and white but in the calm of the morning in their remote location, she felt safe revealing her graceful stride and lively face. She took David’s arm and said, “This was a wonderful walk and you were a magnificent guide!” She beamed. She augmented his observation, “People have been made that way. Us too!” She put a hand on her chest and gasped, “Oh look at that! White birches!”
She ran up a small hill to a ring of white birches. She sat down on the dew. David followed her up to the trees. “Aren’t they great?” He said. He flopped down on his back and kicked his shoes off. “I love these long hikes, but still makes my feet tired.”
Her eyes were dreamy. She said, “I spent many years on a farm much like this one half a world away a long time ago. There was a grove of trees just like this one.”
David said, “Hey, sorry to disturb your reverie, but can you explain what happened to get us where we are today? We just try to piece the history together, but you witnessed the whole thing. I would love to hear it from you.”
She looked pained and a little embarrassed and twisted a finger in her hair. She nodded and started to tell the story. “I was born a princess. As a young girl, I realized I had a gift. I could go back and forth to the other side at will. There, I encountered an older beautiful dark haired olive skinned woman who was much older than I am today and she merged with me--it was the most intimate thing imaginable. We shared all our memories and knowledge. We became one being.”
David smiled, “I’m going to get the whole story. That’s great!”
She tousled his hair, “You more than earned it. You remind me so much of Morgan.”
David said, “Please continue, I’ll just listen.” He closed his eyes.
She continued, “With my new knowledge I became celebrated among my people. All the vanity and foolishness of my youth was gone. I worked tirelessly for my people. I taught them ways to improve their lot, better manage the fields and showed them how to harness the ebb and flow of their energies. I pulled the ruling families of the island into my orbit, and all the people prospered. But, it wasn’t meant to last.”
David said, “The volcano?”
She nodded and said, “I remember it so distinctly. I was eating a pomegranate. It was the most perfect one I ever ate. I went to take a bite and woosh, there was a sensation of an impossibly heavy door slamming shut, then I was in the meadow.”
David furrowed his brows, “So you were dead? Killed. Your body blown away, but the thing that is you still lived on?”
Demetria nodded, “Yes. In time, I discovered that people were always peering over there, or listening to what I said--at least trying to listen to it. In very rare cases, people would actually cross over, so I realized I could cross back here, too. I desired to return to this side and spent hundreds of years making it happen. Then I visited many places all over the world, teaching people.”
David smiled, “That’s what we do, I mean me and the Wells family, we teach people!”
She sighed happily, “It is wonderful in the quiet places like this. The people here can live for generations following the cycles of the Sun and the seasons and I can be with them, just like it was in the beginning.” She grew pensive. Her tone hardened, ”Inevitably, it gets too crowded and the people from the sea--it’s always the sea people whether they’re in boats or on horses, or now, with a checkbook--arrive and spoil things. The land people farm, have their crops, build their wealth and prosper, but inevitably the lazy plunderers arrived, either on horses, or from the coast and they subjugated the people and drove me out, or drove me and my followers into hiding. It happened again and again.”
David was following along with the story, imagining the centuries rolling by.
She continued, “The Romans, though, were different. My cult continued even after they came. However, the sly and cynical Romans infiltrated the cult and put it into the service of their grubby Empire. They did that to many cults. Of course, the priests are almost always tied to the rulers of any place, but the Romans made this type of domination into a perverse art form.” She shuddered at the bad memories.
“What about today? I mean what happened to my people?” David asked.
“The great revolution at the start of this cycle was the men of commerce bought the kings and the priests and us, well, me anyway.” She groaned in rage. She was furious with herself.
“How did that happen?” David was incredulous.
She shrugged, “They turned me into a queen, a figurehead queen, and surrounded me with delightful and beautiful courtiers. It was like being the star of a perpetual play or movie--all just a dream. They managed me. Pampered me.”
He sat up. Grass was sticking to the back of his shirt. “Why do they need you? I don’t get it.”
“These arrangements are always just a truce in a never ending struggle. I’m dangerous. My people love me, and I love them. I can draw people away from their scheme and wipe it away in the blink of an eye. I’m not physically limited like you are. They can kill this body, but not me.”
David considered for a moment, “But they can always get to your followers, too.”
She sighed, “Yes, unfortunately. A solution for that is secrecy, or even better just splendid obscurity and satisfaction with this.” She emphatically patted the ground.
He stood up and helped her to her feet. “Thanks for the amazing story and so much to contemplate. I’m sure I’ll come up with some questions for you.” She wrapped her arms around him and he kissed the top of her head. She looked up at him and smiled slyly.
She said, “Something’s poking my furrow.”
He smirked, “Demetria, that’s an involuntary response. As much as I would love to, I know you’re Morgan’s girl and I’ve got a girlfriend. I’m completely content to be guided by my pathetically limited sexual mores.”
“You’re too good, David!” She laughed. “Let’s go meet the people on this farm.”
The Chardon Chronicles: Season Two --- The Winter Page 8