Stigmata

by L M Adams

He and Apedemak would ride into battle, and at their backs, their loyal soldiers laid waste to all that would not obey – earth would be for man, and none else.

  “When the portals closed, the majic in the lands began to fade. The yoke between man and god was gone – what are we without our gods, what are they without their worshippers?” Sepa asks me, brown silver eyes filled with sadness.

  128

  Jack – A favor for the damned

  I sit back in my chair trying to absorb it all. On an academic level, I knew everything that she just said, but I’ve never heard the telling of the splitting of the worlds done with such feeling and told with such detail.

  “What was supposed to happen to Apedemak and Anubis? They weren’t mankind.”

  “They were given the choice to stay on Terra if so they wished – but only if they shed their powers and became mortal men. Ishtar sent mates to them to calm them and convince them to give up their powers.”

  “Lucien’s mother?”

  Sepa nods, “When Apedmak fell in love, Anubis knew his time on this earth was done… for the only woman he has ever loved is Nephthys… or in his time a woman named Anput; and she held no love for the living things and wished to dwell in a half world.”

  “He went to purgatory?”

  She nods, “Sekhet-Aaru.”

  Saabir looks at me, “What you call…”

  “Vayrá,” I whisper, and he nods.

  Anubis and Apedemak’s lives would mirror one another – one story written in life and lived in the light of the sun of Ra, and another story written of death and lived in the shadow of the moon of Khonsu.

  Apedemak and Zahra would live together, ruling their lands, loving one another. The five generations of man that were to live and die without the majic and connection of the gods came and went…

  “But no majic had returned, no gods ascended.”

  “Five generations?” I ask.

  Saabir nods, “The agreement between the Kindred and Man – that we would let peace reign for five generations. Man and god would live apart during that time. The Kindred would release the power of the gods and new gods would ascend. Five hundred years…”

  “The Kindred broke faith,” Sepa whispers.

  Apedemak and Zahra saw this, and knew it would be up to them to set in motion a rejoining of the people to their gods.

  “Lucien,” I whisper.

  Sepa and Saabir both nod.

  The bringer of light, the young lion, blessed by Ra.

  “There was a time when the cursed ones and the true sons did find a way to love one another. Things were not always as they are now between the children of Atum and the children of Azazael,” Sepa whispers and sits back in her seat.

  Saabir pours me another cup of tea, “We believe your marriage and love to our Raja is proof that the old ways are returning.”

  I smile and take a sip of the tea, the man does make a good cup of tea, “I guess,” I nod. “I don’t think Lucien, nor I, had any idea we would end up loving one another the way that we do – but it happened.”

  “Then you will speak to him? On our behalf?!” Sepa asks urgently.

  “Speak to him about what?” I ask feeling like I missed something.

  She glances at Saabir, a worried expression on her face and then looks back to me, “About calling our cursed fulfilled and allowing us the return of our akhs?”

  “Your what?” I ask confused.

  She looks to Saabir again, pleading in her eyes. He leans forward, “There are three parts to a soul, the Ka – which is a mirror of your living body, the part that makes a dead thing live.”

  I nod.

  “There is the Ba – the part of you that travels between the worlds of the living and the dead, taking sacrifice and exchanging it for power.”

  “Ah, you mean my connection to Vayrá,” I nod.

  “Yes… I believe yes what you call your… conduit?”

  I nod catching on to their terms as well.

  “And finally there is your Akh – the part of you that would be allowed to travel to Sekhet-Aaru.”

  “The heavens? The fields?”

  He nods, “That is the part that has been cursed, you can have no passage to what comes next, you are stuck in the between of your Ka and your Ba. The Akh must be lighter than a feather to pass on to Sekhet-Aaru and it cannot be that until the Raja calls the debt of blood fulfilled.”

  “So you’re saying… you want to move on? Die?”

  She nods, “When it is our time. We all have debts, we all have wrongs we must see put right, but when those debts are paid – we wish to move on like anyone else.”

  “But you can,” I ask confused, “once you return to Vayrá and become Vampyré – you’re rejoined with your Akh, you pay for your sins and then you have peace.”

  She looks at Saabir again… “And you know this, Jack? That you are rejoined with your Akh and know of peace?”

  I exhale slowly, “That is the way it is always taught to us… I’ve… I mean, not until recently have we even had true access to Vayrá.”

  “Have you ever met a Vampyré?” She presses.

  I think back to the few times I’ve visited Vayrá, I’d always been with Jae and it had always been empty, except the times we brought other vampires with us.

  “I almost died once… Jae was with me and I was rejoined with my Akh – I know that my soul is still there.”

  “Yes, but have you ever known a vampire to transcend? One to finally be allowed into Sekhet-Aaru?”

  She looks at me, searching for a truth I don’t have. In terms of vampires I am still relatively young. So no I have never known a Vampyré to… transcend. To finally find forgiveness and peace. There’s just so much sin, so much blood… you can’t always tell what is there, or what belongs to who… it’s just there.

  “Transcendence was possible for a few our kind… when Anubis and Apedemak were lovers, it was a relationship evenly yoked. Apedemak would use his power to release those souls who had paid their debts… who had served the peoples with a true heart. But it is past time for all souls to be released into Sekhet-Aaru. There were promises made to us, promises that after seven generations we would be freed from the curse, free to become one with people once again, to call them brother and sister… there were promises made to us.” She whispers vehemently. “Our Akh is our connection to our God! We should not be made to worship Ra, or Isis or Ishtar. Set is our God; do we not have the right to worship as we will?!”

  Saabir looks at me intently, “We have tried to follow the proper channels, but Sepa’s petition is never called on the scrolls. We hope that you will speak to the new Raja, see if there is any way her petition can be heard in the Divine Council – give her a chance to plead on the behalf of her people, find out why their souls have not been released. That is all that we ask.”

  I sigh looking away. My first thought is to not get involved… We’re not going to be here much longer, and Lucien hasn’t expressed any desire to get involved with their politics…

  “We only wish for the promises made to be kept, we shall continue to serve and be loyal to the ways of Atum and Isis and Ishtar, as is our way… we only wish to worship as we will, worship the end of things as the beginning, worship the dark things that creep and crawl upon the earth for are they not all Keb? Are we not all of the people? Is this so unreasonable of a thing to ask?”

  I shake my head, “I don’t understand…”

  “The curse of Set,” she hisses, “for the sins of a god-king seven generations ago, we have all been damned? Cursed to live without his love? To have no connection to his heart? Your Raja can call the debt fulfilled; he can give us peace with the return of our Akh.”

  I must still look reluctant because she stands up suddenly, “Dārayauš come here,” she calls out and holds out her arm.

  She looks back at me, “He’s shy… Dārayauš,” she calls out again. I turn in my chair to see a young boy peeking out from behind a large flowering bush
.

  He can’t be older than twelve, hair cut a bit short, he has the same coloring as his mother, reminding me of someone of Arabian descent. He’s dressed in a simple black thobe with a bit of red stitching on the short stiff collar.

  “Come on,” she encourages him again gently and I smile.

  “My name is Jack… you’re Dārayauš?”

  He nods, “Yes.”

  “Well, don’t mind the fangs, I won’t bite.”

  He actually flashes a smile, his canines are sharp much like his mother’s. I don’t think they carry the venom of the vampire, however. I watch him gather his courage, glance at his mother once more and then walk bravely over to her… his heart pounding in his chest I’m sure.

  “Are you afraid of me?” I ask in a whisper.

  “A little.”

  I glance up at Sepa, “Why is that?”

  He takes another deep breath, gathering his courage yet again, “I am a wicked and you are punisher of the wicked… I try not to be.” He adds, his little voice sad.

  I huff, “I promise I was more wicked than you when I was your age.”

  He gasps, eyes wide as he looks at me.

  “How could one so young be so wicked?” I give him a smile, “Play devious little tricks on the other children?”

  He looks up to Sepa, she nods encouragingly as something passes between mother and son.

  “Go on,” she smiles.

  The young human vampir turns and goes over to the base of the large tree, he pulls something from the dark earth there and returns… I look down in his gently cupped hands to find a small baby bird that obviously fell from its nest.

  Its feathers are brown with a white underbelly. He’s small and it’s easy to see how he may have simply fallen to his death.

  “A nightingale,” I murmur.

  I watch amazed as the young boy rubs his thumb gently on the head of the small bird… a prickling of energy makes the hairs on my arms stand up and the smell of peppermint and cherry fills my nose.

  The wings flutter suddenly, making me inhale sharply. Then again, another jerking of motion. My heart doesn’t actually stop until the baby bird lets out a chirp and jumps up to perch on Saleem’s finger.

  “Necromancy,” I whisper.

  “We have always had the power of life. But what is a life without a soul?” Sepa whispers, “Soon the curse will call for him and he will fall ill with the fever of Ammut, she will come to devour his soul.”

  “I’ve… I’ve heard of sin eaters but… soul eaters?”

  She nods, “She will take his Akh and give it to Apedemak for keeping… the fever is deadly – one in three of us do not survive the tearing of the Akh, and Ka, and Ba. Apedemak is not our keeper… send our souls on to Anubis, let us rest with our own god-king.”

  “This…” I shake my head… “this…” I don’t want to get this deep into their world… “we aren’t supposed to be here.”

  “I know you have no reason to help us, you are not from our time, you hold no responsibility to us. All I can do is plead with you… all I can do is pray… speak to your Raja, speak on behalf of your people.”

  Dārayauš looks up to me, brown and silver eyes flowing with the power of life over death. His gaze too worldly and too powerful for one so very young. “Will you help me keep my soul?”

  My ears open to their pleas then. Because I understand their pain… vampires have the power over life, the power to make a thing live again. We are by definition little more than zombies – but what is a life without a soul? What is the point in living without love and connection and a purpose for being here?

  What is the point in living a cursed life?

  129

  Jack – Solstice Feast

  Saabir guides me back to his ‘day chamber’. I feel completely lost as I follow him back through the series of gardens.

  “This is a lot to take in, brother. This I know. Think upon it?” He stops near the large double wood doors that leads from the Isis chambers of the palace.

  “I will,” I say softly, confusion echoing in voice.

  “Please, come and talk with me, with Sepa again if you need. Do not be hesitant to seek me. You are my brother – you are always welcome here.”

  I nod and thank him and leave the chamber… different than what I was when I first walked in.

  The walk back to my chambers is fast, or slow… time, reality doesn’t feel like a true construct. I’m not sure if this is a side effect of the magic Saabir did on my back, or because I’ve just had everything I’ve ever believed in turned upside down.

  What in the hell am I supposed to say to Lucien? How in the hell do I even bring up this conversation?

  Hey yeah, can your people release my people from the curse they cast down upon us?

  Every way I can think of to start the conversation sounds horrid in my mind. I don’t want to be accusatory… perhaps the Atums have a reason they’ve broken faith. Perhaps they’ve simply lost the ability to lift the curse. It may not even be intentional.

  What I don’t understand is why they won’t hear Sepa’s petition in their courts, at least offer some explanation to them. Don’t they deserve at least that much?

  I enter our chambers and head to the bedroom quickly. Lucien is here, his back turned to me as he studies something on the bed. He’s undressed except for a white cloth wrapped around his waist; his stigmata are glittering with gold at the edges of the lion’s mane, but burning deeply with red in the center, he’s unsettled.

  Well, that makes two of us.

  He turns to me, a wildness in his eyes, “Where have you been?!” He doesn’t sound accusatory… rather, just frantic with worry.

  The emotion spills into me like radio static filling a room. Our link is in discourse.

  “With Saabir,” I say plainly and close the door behind me.

  “You are okay?”

  I nod, “Yes.”

  He turns his back to me again, I watch his stigmata calm a bit, but something is still bothering him. “Then get to the baths with you. You spent much time with Saabir.”

  “I’m sorry, we ended up talking and he was teaching me about the nosferatu.”

  He turns around to look at me, “The cursed ones?”

  I nod, “They are my people,” I look into the eyes of my husband, “I’m a vampire, Lucien.”

  He sighs and nods, “I know what you are; but I have no wish for you to… become weighed down, Capaneus. I like the Isis in you.”

  “The Keb?”

  His eyes light up and he smiles, “Saabir has taught you the stories of Keb?”

  “Some of them.”

  He nods, “Then this is good.”

  Something makes me want to tell him about Sepa and my meeting. But he turns back around to stare down at the bed and I chicken out. There is something odd about him right now.

  “Get cleaned up.”

  “Of course,” I whisper and make my way to the bathing chamber.

  “Your face is still bruised; did he not give you anything for it?”

  “Yes, I’ll use it, don’t worry I’ll get fixed up.”

  He nods curtly, “I do not like it when you are hurt.”

  “I know,” I escape from the room quickly.

  Now just isn’t the time to bring it up, not when he’s like that. Tomorrow will be soon enough to bring up the subject. Lucien has enough to worry over and I’ve already practically ruined his trip home… no, I won’t spring this on him now, like this.

  Tomorrow will be soon enough to accuse his people of breaking faith with mine.

  With that, I push the thoughts away… compartmentalizing it. A skill I’ve picked up over the years.

  I use Saabir’s herbs and medicines to fix myself up… the man is obviously a skilled healer and I find myself feeling stronger and better than I have in days… even my delicate bits.

  My back, up near my right shoulder, now has four perfectly healed slash marks so that I’ll never forget what I went
to war for, and what I won.

  The bruising on my face fades before my very eyes as I rub a bit of the paste Saabir gave me into my flesh. I give myself a fresh shave as well and slick back my dark hair with a bit of oil. My flesh is still tanned, this is the darkest I’ve been since I was a child. As a vampire, I lived in the night and although I’ve had the ability to walk in the daylight since I was first turned to the undead, I’ve shrunk away from it.

  Depression held me; I realize that now. All of it wasn’t because I’d turned full vampire, but because I was in mourning, a mourning I haven’t been able to move past. This trip could be a fresh start for me, a new life if I have the courage to take it… it could be a fresh start for all of my people if I have the courage to fight for it.

  I finish up in the bathroom quickly, Lucien is still standing, staring down at the bed with that cloth wrapped around his waist when I return to the bedroom.

  “What is going on?” I walk over to him.

  “I don’t know what to wear,” he sighs deeply.

  I don’t think I’ve ever known Lucien to care about what he puts on.

  He has what looks like four different outfits laid out. It’s easy to see the cuts are very different from one another. One is a traditional full-length thobe, done in black and red – another thobe done in red and gold. A black with red pattern shendyt with a matching collar necklace thing… “What is that called?”

  “A wesekh,” he mutters.

  Finally, a pair of black pants and a shirt, his usual dress.

  “You want to dress in the traditional way?”

  “Maybe?” He looks at me, his golden gaze filled with uncertainty.

  “You’re worried about what your father may think?”

  He nods curtly.

  I give him a half smile, “He’ll love you, whatever you wear.” You are the young lion, the lost son… the Raja.

  He looks away and back down at the choices but gives me a muttered thank you. I rub his back gently, he tenses for a moment and then relaxes into the touch – Lucien likes being petted, he especially likes it when you initiate the intimacy. He likes knowing he’s wanted.