by Rita Vetere
Now that he had achieved his goal of immortality with the birth of Pandora, Ahriman no longer concerned himself with the pendant. Jasmine kept it on her person so she could commune with Sephora in the lonely hours that made up her days. Most of her time was spent deep below the layers of consciousness with the spirit. Outwardly, anyone watching her would think her asleep. But once she delved deep into her subconscious where Sephora resided, her thoughts, although dream-like, achieved a clarity they did not possess when she was awake. Sephora had become her anchor. Their silent conversations kept her mind from atrophying, and kept the despair that always lurked in the recesses of her subconscious at bay.
Tell me about your mortal life, Sephora. What happened to you? How did you become trapped in the pendant?
The spirit sighed deeply, a dismal sound. At first Jasmine thought Sephora would not speak, but then the sound of her words began to fall like gentle raindrops.
In my human lifetime, I lived on the great continent, in Morocco. The time, by your counting, would have been at the turn of the eighteenth century.
As Jasmine listened to the soft cadence of Sephora's voice, a strange osmosis began, so that Jasmine herself seemed to travel back in time, seeing the world through Sephora's eyes.
My home was in the mountains not far from Imlil on the banks of the river Mizane. I have only pleasant memories of my childhood home, although my family was poor. From the window next to my bed in our tiny abode, I could see the forest that covered the valleys and the snow of Mount Toubkal. I was the only child conceived to my parents and well-loved. I lived happily with them until the day came when, as a young woman, my father told me that I was to marry.
The man who had asked for my hand in marriage was named Askim, a man of standing and considerable wealth. As was the custom, when Askim had found no suitable woman to wed in Imlil, he began to search the nearby mountains for a wife. One day, he happened upon me as I washed clothes in the river, unobserved by me. Soon after, he arrived at our home to request the consent of my father to take me as his wife.
My father, as I stated, was a poor man who could offer little by way of dowry, but Askim, it was said, was so smitten by me that he agreed to take the pittance my father was able to provide. My mother and father rejoiced upon hearing this, for they knew it meant my life would not be marred by the poverty that had marked their own married life. At first, I was happy as well. Askim struck me as not an unpleasant man, and any woman of marriageable age would have considered the union a fortunate one.
Sephora sighed softly again, and Jasmine felt a ripple of sadness run through her.
My happiness, however, was soon marred. Events transpired against us even before the marriage took place. The men who claimed to be friends of Askim felt the match would not be a fortuitous one. Seeing how obsessed Askim had become with me, they attempted to dissuade him from taking me as his wife and to convince him that he had fallen under the spell of the ‘jnun'. They blamed my poor father and mother for Askim's inability to put aside his desire for me, telling him they had cast the spell.
During the first days of Ramadan, Askim was taken by his friends to a ‘fqi', a holy man, who proclaimed Askim had indeed fallen victim to magic. Askim refused to be swayed by the fqi, and turned away from his friends.
It was on the morning of the final day of the feast of Ramadan that I awoke to find my dear father and mother had been murdered in their sleep. I was heartbroken and convinced that Askim's companions had committed the murders to keep my family from continuing the spell, which they insisted had been placed on him. Askim shared my suspicion and confronted his companions, yet they denied any involvement.
Fearing retribution from these men, I attempted to dissuade Askim from taking me as his wife. Askim would not hear of it and insisted the marriage proceed.
And so, having just lost both my mother and father, I was taken from the only home I had ever known to become Askim's wife.
For seven days and seven nights before the marriage took place, the feasting carried on in the village, even as my sadness at the death of my parents increased. No amount of silver and gold bracelets, or pretty robes, could lift the grief from my heart.
Among the gifts presented to me by Askim was the pendant which you carry with you now. It was the one gift that captured my attention, and I chose to keep it close to me, for I had never seen anything like it before in terms of workmanship or quality. It pleased Askim greatly that he had presented me with a gift I admired, and he recounted to me how he had purchased it, at great cost, from an old artisan in a neighboring village.
Askim told me he had viewed and discarded many pieces of jewelry from this artisan, not satisfied that any of them would be suitable for his future bride. The old man then asked Askim to wait and disappeared behind a curtain in the back of his shop. Shortly after, he emerged carrying a pouch fashioned out of leather. The leather case appeared old and marked, and not the type of container in which anything of value would be stored. Askim looked on with impatience as the man carefully removed something from the worn pouch, and held it out.
Askim recounted that he was astonished to find such a beautiful piece of craftsmanship in so humble a shop. He was even more astonished when the shopkeeper claimed that the pendant was said to have the power to bestow on the woman who wore it love for the man who gifted it to her. Askim decided it was a worthy gift, and purchased it immediately, despite the large sum the artisan demanded.
I was touched by Askim's gesture and willingly wore the pendant in the hope that somehow the two of us would find happiness amidst the unhappy events that had transpired. Had I known then the nature of the accursed object, I would have convinced Askim to return it immediately. Perhaps if I had done so, Askim and I might have found happiness together.
Sephora wept softly. Jasmine waited in silence, and after a moment, the spirit continued.
On the following day, Askim and I exchanged our vows. It was the day after my marriage to Askim that I first glimpsed the evil spirit, Ahriman. He appeared to me in my chamber, just after the sun had set, as I bathed. I saw him only for a moment by the light of the oil lantern, but in that moment, as I looked into his eyes, I lost my soul to him.
I dreamt of the beguiling apparition that night, dreams which aroused in me emotions I had not experienced before. On the following day, I mentioned nothing of what had transpired to Askim, for fear that he would not believe me, or worse, imagine that I desired to be with another man. For days the image of Ahriman haunted me, so that I went about as one dreaming, yet awake.
Some time passed before Ahriman next appeared to me. On that occasion, Askim had departed before sunup to the medina. While I was still asleep in my bedchamber, the apparition arrived. I awakened to find him watching me. He spoke to me for the first time, and his words ... I know not how to describe the way he sounded to me. His voice enticed me, and I approached him without fear or hesitation. He touched my hair and caressed my face. All the while, his eyes enthralled me. He appeared to be the most beautiful of creations, a god who had descended to earth, one who claimed to have chosen me to be his beloved.
To my shame, I surrendered to his advances. I felt powerless in his presence and unable to resist his allure. I wasted no thought on Askim, or the dishonor I brought upon my departed family in taking the phantasm who had become flesh into my bed. The beguiling apparition come to life captivated me completely, so that nothing else seemed of consequence. I gave myself over to him without thought of what might happen were we to be discovered.
When Askim returned home that evening, he sensed the change in me. I could not bring myself to share Askim's bed, so enchanted had I become by the spirit who had stolen my heart. I told Askim I was unwell. Although my husband did not press me, I read the doubt in his eyes.
Ahriman was to return to me on the day of the next full moon, and I made efforts to ensure I would be alone when he arrived. The intervening time seemed interminable, so that I felt I would die of longing for
him. As the days passed and my disinterest in Askim grew, my husband became more and more suspicious. I understood that he no longer trusted me, and still I could not keep myself from meeting with my beloved Ahriman when the day of our planned meeting finally arrived.
That day, Askim followed me. He watched, hidden, as the apparition arrived. As Ahriman became flesh and embraced me, Askim cried out, making his presence known. Ahriman turned toward Askim with a look that was terrible to behold. I heard my lover whisper an incantation. Immediately afterward, a horde of dark spirits arrived, evil souls who groveled in supplication at Ahriman's feet. Ahriman entreated them to destroy Askim, and the black souls hurried to do his bidding. They fell upon my husband like bats, shrieking their deadly intent. Askim attempted to defend himself against them, but to no avail.
Sephora stopped speaking, and Jasmine felt the spirit's sorrow sitting heavily in her own heart.
What I confess to you now fills me with shame. For I lifted not a finger to assist my poor Askim. Only Ahriman filled my thoughts. I watched and stood idly by, still under the enchantment of my murderous lover, as the black spirits killed my husband. Before Ahriman departed, he directed me to leave Askim's body where it was and return home. This I did, to my disgrace.
When the murder of Askim was discovered, several of the men who had sought to keep Askim from taking me as his wife spoke out against me, citing me as the cause of his death. They incited the townspeople, demanding retribution for Askim's death, telling them I had employed magic to destroy Askim. The rumor spread throughout the town, and when Ahriman next appeared to me, I was beside myself with fear, and not only on account of the town's growing resentment against me. By that time, my menses had stopped. I was with child—and I knew it to be Ahriman's child.
I begged Ahriman to deliver me, for with Askim now gone, I knew those who had turned against me would do everything in their power to accuse me of adultery once my condition was discovered. Ahriman assured me I would not be harmed, that arrangements would be made for me to travel across the ocean to a land where I could bear his child in safety. As was always the case when I found myself in his presence, I fell under his spell and believed his words, so that I ceased to worry about my perilous circumstances.
We arranged to meet again at the next full moon. Ahriman reassured me, telling me he would bring with him those who would assist me in travelling to the port where I was to board a vessel to carry me to safety. I questioned nothing. My trust in the demon was complete, and I set about making preparations for the voyage.
When the townspeople arrived at my door on the morning of my arranged escape, among them was the fqi. He accused me of having consorted with a devil to bring about Askim's death. I was questioned at length. Finally, I was examined and found to be with child. As I feared, several of the townspeople voiced their opinion that the child was not Askim's. Despite my protests, the fqi was persuaded and judged me to be an adulteress. Throughout all of this, I remained unafraid, for I trusted that Ahriman would appear to deliver me from their persecution. Even after they pushed me roughly out of my house, I walked calmly along the dirt road to the outskirts of the medina. A hole was dug in the sand. I was forced to stand in it, as the angry men buried me up to my bosom. It was only then that the first seed of doubt took hold.
Beneath my robe, I wore the pendant. As my fear of being executed mounted, I called out for Ahriman in a loud voice, pleading with him to arrive, to save not only my life, but that of his unborn child. My desperation increased when my calls went unheeded. Someone in the crowd cast the first stone. It struck my face, cutting my cheek. Seconds later, the next stone flew, and then the next. In order to prolong my suffering, the enraged crowd cast stones large enough to cause me pain, but not so large as to immediately cause my death. Angry faces surrounded me, jeering as the rocks struck, cutting my face, head, shoulders and neck, while my buried arms remained pinned at my sides.
I screamed out to the crowd, cursing them for their actions, as the volley of stones continued. Again and again I called upon Ahriman, whom I knew to be my only salvation. As the rocks continued to strike me, I invoked him repeatedly. Even when blood flowed into my eyes, so that I could barely see, and my injuries became grave, I would not be silenced. Soon the blood flowed freely down my neck and from there into the dry sand below. The pain from my many wounds was immense. Before long, I was no longer able to cry out, having lost large amounts of blood. I became weak, able only to watch as the sand below me drank my blood.
I was near to death when Ahriman finally appeared. My first instinct was elation that my beloved had arrived to rescue me from the hands of my tormentors. The air between us shimmered and shook as his form emerged from the pendant. The crowd ceased casting their projectiles of death and cried out in fear when they witnessed Ahriman's arrival. My lips, although cut and bleeding, formed a tiny smile, for I knew he had the power to save us.
It was only then, on the cusp of death, that I beheld Ahriman in his true form. The creature that appeared before me was grotesque beyond words. I glimpsed a demonic head, from which eyes that spoke of everlasting damnation shone; his hands and feet were withered claws, and he exuded a malignance that poisoned the air around him.
In that moment, I understood all. I had been duped by an evil spirit and my soul surely damned. I had only seconds of life left to me. Even as Ahriman whispered his assurance that I would be delivered, I found the strength to call out once more to the mob, who continued to watch in awe and fear at the apparition that had arrived. “Finish what you have started,” I cried out to them. “Kill me, if you would be rid of this evil."
Ahriman turned to me, astonished by my words, his face a mask of betrayal. His howl of anger resonated in the air, the sound of a wounded beast.
Suddenly, the stones flew again, large rocks that struck me with terrible force. In the final moment before death arrived, I searched the face of the demon, and saw the knowledge that I had defeated him writ large on his features.
I expired.
My next memory was of this dark place where my soul still remains. I know not for certain how I became trapped here. It is my belief that Ahriman sought to return to the spirit realm through the pendant at the moment of my death, and attempted to take my soul with him to the other side. Yet my soul did not pass over. Perhaps the blood that flowed from my dying body into the Pendant sealed the portal, for indeed, Ahriman himself was unable to pass through to the spirit world. As Ahriman's spirit entered the pendant with my soul, it became dormant, and remained so for many years.
Almost two centuries passed before Ahriman awakened once again.
When I first became aware of his stirring a little more than two decades ago, I hid in the murky recesses of my prison, for there are chambers within chambers in this dark place within which I am able to take refuge. His spirit took its leave, passing into the hidden realm without detecting me.
Since Ahriman's awakening, he has returned here only to travel between the two worlds by passing through it. Thus far, he has remained unaware that my soul resides here, for I take great pains to remain hidden when I sense his approach. My soul, I believe, will remain trapped here, unable to break the seal formed by the blood of my death for as long as Ahriman remains in existence. Unless and until Ahriman is destroyed, my soul will not be set free.
All of this I accept, for I have much to atone for.
Jasmine, unaware that her cheeks were wet with tears, asked a question, one to which she already knew the answer. Can Ahriman be destroyed?
The woeful voice that was Sephora responded. The birth of your child has granted him immortality. While she lives, he will not die.
Jasmine twitched in her sleep at the implication. My daughter must not be harmed.
No, the gentle spirit assured her. Her innocent blood must not be spilled. But there may be another way.
How?
Be patient. When the proper circumstances present themselves, I will tell you all that you need to k
now.
Sephora's recounting of her sad tale left Jasmine drained and tired. But her parting words lit a spark of hope inside her. Was it possible? Did Sephora know something that might help her to defeat Ahriman?
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Chapter 32
Thomas made every effort to keep his face expressionless as he sipped from the tumbler of scotch handed to him by Christopher a moment ago and listened to Ahriman's voice. Today marked only the second time since Ahriman had re-emerged two decades ago that Thomas and his brother had found themselves in their father's presence. On the last occasion, the sight of Ahriman had immediately wrenched from Thomas the terrible memory that had haunted him since childhood. With Ahriman once again standing before him, Thomas found himself reliving that night in 1794, the same day Nathaniel was born, when, in the dead of night he was...
...startled awake by the sound of his mother crying. He cannot make out the words, only the fear in his mother's raised voice. Throwing back the covers, he slips from his bed and pads into the dimly-lit corridor. His mother's cries grow louder, and he wonders if something has happened to the baby brother he saw for the first time that morning. Hesitantly, he makes his way along the corridor toward his mother's bedchamber, his hard-pounding little boy's heart reverberating loudly in his ears. The wooden door to her room is slightly ajar, and he almost goes running in, but some instinct stops him, and he stands just outside, breathing heavily, waiting. Then he hears a voice, one that causes dread to wash over him. Father. His father has returned, he realizes with dismay.
"Do not presume to withhold from me that which is mine.” The words are spoken quietly. His father does not raise his voice, yet Thomas fears for his mother. His father is displeased.
His mother's distraught voice rises in fear. “I beg of you, do not take them from me. They are all that is left to me. I no longer have any vestige of life, save for my sons."
