Stigmata

by L M Adams

  The name Azazael, it means scapegoat… the one who absorbs the sins of the people so that they could be made clean again.

  But what happens when the scapegoat gets tired? What happens when the man filled with sin weeps with his anguish?

  Who is his solace?

  Where is his love?

  The night creatures fly towards Jack, taking swipes at him with their talons… he lets them, he doesn’t really fight back at all.

  His defeat is the defeat of us all…. I look around as soldier after soldier falls. Lucien is slashing them down, his rage knowing no bounds… yet still it is not enough.

  “Akanikezeli!” I hear voices call out.

  I turn to the south as I hear the chant again and again, I see the tips of spears above the horde of night creatures. The man-bats turn to face the voices.

  “Akanikezeli!” The voices call out again.

  I look to Lucien, “What is that?”

  “The Shes of the North and the South! The Daughters of Bastet and Sekhmet!” He rages and raises his sword, “Akanikezeli! No retreat! No Surrender!”

  A beam of green light flies up into the sky before it turns to flame… the flame comes down like a scythe and parts the horde of night creatures, igniting their flesh in a hellish green-black flame.

  My heart is in my throat as the bodies fall and there stands Henenu, his eyes burning with majic, the seal of souls glowing in the center of his chest, hanging from a chain like an emblem… behind him the tribes joined once more.

  The Shes of the North and the South are dressed for battle; tall, slender, but muscular frames holding silver tipped long spears in one hand and shotel swords in the other.

  The Shes know a thing or two about fighting, and they show me why they are entrusted to guard the people and why they were once the hunters in the night.

  They hunt in packs, like lionesses do. Cornering off a few of the nosferatu at a time… two of the women spear a nosferatu, the third takes its head. Again and again they slay these beasts.

  Henenu shows us what he can do. Setting swaths of the creatures to die fiery burning depths.

  He throws back his head lighting those arms to Jack. I see the power of the seal connect to Jack… drawing power from the Dark King. The earth begins to shudder again and I watch in amazement as the night creatures are dragged to the edge of the chasm.

  The creatures screech wildly, gouging the earth as they try to hold on to something… anything, as they try to keep from being banished to the deep.

  I feel hope fill my heart before turning to see Jack falling from the sky. His wings useless, blowing in the air, folded in oddly as they cover his body – he’s giving up and giving himself to the pit and taking the nosferatu with him.

  “No!” I scream and run forward, my legs not moving fast enough.

  I leap over fallen nosferatu and Atums alike. My only thought is to get to Jack. There is nothing but my determination as I run and I run, moving my legs as hard as I can. My thighs strain and pull as I demand more speed more than mortal flesh can give.

  Jack’s body falls into the open wound of the earth right before my eyes.

  “Stay back!” Lucien yells as he runs forward and dives into the depths and I come to a skidding halt at the edge of the cavern.

  Then there is nothing but the screeching call of the nosferatu as they fall into the pit and the uncertainty of knowing if either of my husbands are alive.

  167

  Jaevia – Curse of Neoma

  My heart pounds in my chest as I wait.

  “Jaevia!” Nassor yells.

  I turn to see him along with a handful of Atums make their way to me.

  “Can you see them?” He asks, joining me on the edge of the massive fucking cavern.

  I shake my head no, “He caught him, I know he caught him,” I whisper my prayer aloud, my belief for it to be true.

  They stand with me in silence minute after minute.

  And then I spot it… a hurling ball of fire racing up towards us.

  “Back!” I yell and stumble back myself as Lucien flies into the sky, over our heads and falls to the ground behind us.

  Lucien’s wings beat in the air for a moment before disappearing and revealing a singed Jack, passed out and barely breathing.

  I run over to them.

  “He’s giving up,” Lucien whispers, his voice filled with emotion.

  “I cannot make him live.” He looks up to me, his eyes filled with tears, “Make him live, Jae. Make him live with it like you make me do.”

  I look back at Jack, I can see the despair in him. His body as broken as his soul.

  “He hit the ground?”

  Lucien nods, “The pit below, it’s filled with souls, angry spirits. They want to hurt him… punish him, and he wants to let them. He doesn’t want to live; you have to make him live!”

  My brow furrows as I feel the first tendrils of loss take bloom in my gut. The deep gnawing aching that comes with death.

  No, this can’t be right… this can’t be… I can’t feel this!

  No!

  I reach for the aching cold within me, that power that terrifies me, that power that is not me but is yet I.

  The rush of it throws back my head, almost snapping my neck as I choke on her might and fall to my knees in her glory.

  Neoma travels across the sky and comes upon the fractured soul of Cain. She takes pity on his soul for Ra’s vengeance is terrible indeed. No man should be cursed to such an existence.

  I gather the torn and broken body of Cain into my arms and take him to the night lands of his people, a place once of beauty now mired in the sin of mankind and upon his heart; Cain must carry it all for he loved them too much to make them carry it themselves.

  He opens his eyes; they are as deep and dark and blue as the oceans that she rules, “End me,” he cries up to her.

  “Your death will not give you the peace you seek.”

  He closes his eyes as tears tinged with blood fall from the darkest and longest eyelashes she has ever seen.

  “Please, Goddess… quiet the aching of my heart.”

  And so she lowers her lips unto his lips and breathes into him the coldness of her heart and the power of the snow covered moon.

  I breathe the power of the moon into his being, I lay a curse of aching cold upon his soul to cool the rage of the pain and the blood he must carry now.

  As Neoma shall know of Cain, so does Jaevia know of Capaneus.

  He will live, for I wish it so.

  “No,” he cries.

  “Yes,” I whisper down at him.

  “Please no more,” He cries out in an aching voice.

  “We need you still,” I brush the frozen tears from his face, his flesh shining like powdered diamonds, lips pink and full with stolen life, eyes filled with the power of me… cooling the silver blooded curse.

  “I’m sorry,” I lean forward to rest my brow upon his, “I’m so sorry.”

  Lucien’s large hand comes to rest on my back as we cry together, “We shall live this wretched life together.”

  But it’s a cold comfort, it’s a cold comfort indeed.

  168

  Jaevia – Akert

  Some things you can change, others you cannot; the fall of Atum was a moment of Kairos – those points in existence which are carved in stone. No matter how many times we go back, tried to change the past… what has happened has happened and would always happen that way.

  Gods are not meant to meddle with time.

  What were we thinking? Why in all that is holy did we think we could change anything?

  The people are destroyed and yet the sun rises the next day and demands that life continue… life as it is.

  The destruction of Atum is breathtaking in the morning light. There is nothing left, a round deep chasm where the city once stood. The dock, near the river is all that is left, the guardian statues still stand – now with nothing to guard. The statues all have the heads of different anim
als. Falcons, lions and lionesses, crocodiles, snakes… and yes, even jackals. A reminder to stand for all time of what the people once were, and what was betrayed. Something of before, when the old gods walked the earth and splintered it in two.

  We gather in their shadow near the waters, our bodies and our hearts battered and broken.

  “How many are left?” I ask in a whisper as I stand at the edge of the pit, the sunlight doesn’t even pierce the darkness of it. The edges are ragged as if some great monster reached down and scooped out the earth.

  Jack did this… my goddess, he did this.

  “A few hundred…” Henenu whispers.

  “Hundreds…” I whisper, my heart breaking, they city of Atum held thousands.

  I look to the old tutor, tears in my eyes, “None of this makes sense. All of this death… for what?”

  He sighs deeply, “For a rebirth, a rebirth that you and Hari and Capaneus must bring about… in your own time. Make this worth it, my Kandaka – make the end of the people have a purpose. Raise the gods, mend the worlds, bring about the ascension.”

  He hands me the Seal of Souls. There is a screeching from the depths.

  “Jack?!” I yell turning my head. He’s tending to the wounded, along with Saabir.

  Lucien and Nassor and the abled bodied are preparing funeral pyres to burn our honored dead… there are more dead than there are wounded. The night creatures were an effective horror.

  Even the bits of the night creatures were dragged into the chasm, there is no sign left of them… except that echoing screech that rings from the deep every now and again.

  Jack walks over to me, dressed in all black, his skin startling white in the sunlight. A dead thing walking, the chill of the moon soothing the ache in his soul – the ache I demanded he live with as he begged me to let him go.

  “Again?” He asks stopping at the edge of the chasm to look into the deep.

  I nod, “They’ll escape, how can we keep them from escaping?”

  He sighs, “The only way I know is for me to go down into the depths and hold them there.”

  I cut my eyes at him, always so fucking ready to die! “No.” I say firmly.

  He sighs looking at me, the silver in his blue eyes glowing with power… and anger… temper, temper King of Darkness… temper, temper he born again of Set.

  Jack is a very different thing and I don’t think anyone knows exactly what that is.

  He holds my gaze before lowering his eyes and bowing his head, “Yes, my Queen.” Because still, he is a son of Keb, a giver; and I am his taker, I am his Queen.

  I roll my eyes and look back down at the seal in my hand…

  “The Shes of the North, the children of Sekhmet, will guard the lands,” I turn to see Malia standing with her sisters, they’re still dressed for battle and hold their silver tipped spears in hand.

  Proud creatures, and fearsome.

  “You don’t know what your volunteering for…”

  “We do, and we know what shall come to pass,” Malia hands her spear to Fana and closes the distance between us.

  My breath hitches in my chest as I look up at her. Gorgeous woman, fearsome and proud, skin so dark I could fall into her depths … and I have… I did once before.

  She who starwalks, the Queen of Death… She of the North lowers her mouth to mine and I open my lips to taste the sweetness of her. She strokes my lips with her tongue as I feel her hands cup my breasts gently and rub my pierced nipples with her thumbs… making them ache with need.

  I whimper when she pulls her mouth from mine and stares into my eyes, burrowing deep into my soul and into my memory. I stand unable to fight her back as she sees it all… she sees what shall become of her people if they go down into that pit.

  Her brown eyes darken and fill with the stars of the cosmos as I begin to cry.

  “Don’t,” I whimper.

  “It is who I am,” she murmurs letting go of my breasts. Her hand runs down my arm, taking the seal from my fingertips as I let the tears fall.

  Somewhere there is a memory of love between us, a memory of love between Sekhmet and Bastet and I know these depths will tarnish everything that she is. You cannot live among sin and death and think your soul will remain pure.

  But I don’t stop her as she takes the seal and turns around to go and gather her people, because if they go… Jack won’t have to.

  Evil is as evil does.

  169

  Jaevia – The Cost

  Jack stands at the edge of the chasm and holds out a hand, the earth answers his call as if he is truly Keb in the living and from the edge of the abyss, stairs of stone begin to grow out of the side.

  The people weep as the Shes of the North assemble.

  “There must be one man for every woman that goes with them!” I call out stepping forward, “They must… procreate and pass down this duty from generation to generation.”

  Slowly… men of Atum begin to step forward… one of them is Nassor.

  Lucien rushes over to the man, “Brother…”

  Nassor looks up to him, that cocky smile on his face, “You know me, Hari, I’ve always wanted a Sekhmet.”

  “I thought… maybe… you would wish to come back with me, to my time.”

  Nassor shakes his head no, “I no more belong there as you do here.”

  Lucien shakes his head no, “You are my brother.”

  Nassor leans his third eye to Lucien’s, “This will never change, aye?”

  “Aye,” Lucien whispers, his heartbreak filling our link.

  Nassor pulls back from Lucien and turns, swaggering over to Fana. The proud Sekhmet woman raises an eyebrow as he kneels before her.

  “Leash me, woman!”

  I cover my mouth, laughing as the tears fall.

  My heart constricts as I watch them all, the Sekhmet and a third of what’s left of the Atums take a knee to pray to their god… they pray to Lucien, the last Raja of Atum.

  Lucien holds out his hand and gives them each a blessing, he fills them with as much power as their mortal flesh can stand, their dark skin glows gold with it. We all pray that it will be enough.

  I stand to the side with Jack as they stand and begin walking down the stairs. Down into the depths of the earth and the hell he created to trap the etummu and the corrupted nosferatu.

  Jack made a new place, a half world with his rage down in that deep, a land that will be known as Akert, a half world between Terra and Ra’suá. He’d done that with his pain and now I make him live with it.

  I know what will become of the children of the Sekhmets and the Atums, through the eons they will evolve into the Ma’Zean and someday, one day, the Kindred will attack the Ma’Zean, wanting to steal their majic – wanting to take the seal… in turn the Ma’Zean will show the dark fae how to manipulate the portals and so will begin the second great war that my brother, Dixon, will die in.

  Once the puzzle pieces started to fit together, there was no stopping them. Why did we think we could change anything?

  When the Sekhmets and the Atums disappear into the darkness of the chasm, Jack holds out his hand again and a slab of black granite forms before our very eyes. His flesh glows silver as he covers that hole into hell. The slab is dark and smooth, a thing made of earth majic and in the center he marks it with the symbol of Set, he marks it with a snake in the form of an infinity symbol… eating its own tail as the ouroboros, the symbol of life and death and rebirth, the symbol of eternity.

  It is decided that what is left of the Atums will build a structure on top of the black slab to keep it hidden for all time. The tip they will raise into the heavens and beseech the power of Ra to hold this evil in its depths until mankind can find a way to put this right again.

  They will build the first pyramid.

  But first, we build a pyre. There is a quietness as we go about our work. What’s left of the Isis children prepare the bodies, washing them with the clean waters of the Phairo.

  Everyone else ga
thers the wood, we will burn them once the night falls, we will burn them in Ra’s glory and name.

  By the time the sun is setting, all is prepared. The wood structure is large, the bodies stacked neatly on top. Around the edges branches from the dead trees are lashed on the base.

  Those of us lucky enough to still be alive gather in front of the structure as Lucien walks forward to stand in front of the dead… Ra, a god of death, even Horus built his city on the bones of the Sets, and now Lucien will burn the bodies of the people he was to protect.

  And around and around it goes.

  “Let us not take for granted the gift that they have given us with their deaths, let us not forget the debt we owe, let us never forget who we are… and the way we wish to live – even if we fail sometimes,” He lifts his head to look at us as his golden eyes sparkle in the twilight and the brush of pyre begins to burn with golden flame, “We respect and care for our elders… for they are our past! We respect and care for our young… for they are our future! We respect and care for one another… for we are our present! Live by this law or die by it!”

  The pyre erupts with flame, reaching up into a purple sky and one in all we get to our knees before the last Raja of Atum.

  This was the cost to make Lucien their Raja, and what a heavy price it was.

  170

  Jaevia - Ishtar

  There is a silence, a mourning that settles around us as we travel back to the holy place, the place where the black pillars rise from the golden sands and Henenu first sent Lucien through the stones and into the future.

  Saabir and Nyrobi decide to make the pilgrimage with us to the stones, to say their goodbyes.

  A deep ache lives within us, I feel it growing in our link. Outward, Jack and Lucien are still congenial towards each other, but there is a chasm as wide as that pit in the earth between them. Goddess only knows what will fill it… love or hate.