The Sagittary - Chapter One
A loud buzzing broke the quiet in
the darkened apartment, causing Raphael to jump onto the floor with an annoyed
meow. There was silence for a few moments
and then the buzzing came again, this time a little longer. Tessa stirred from her sleep and sat up in
bed, waiting to see if the sound she thought she heard was real or from her
dream. Sure enough, the buzzing came
again. Giving a yawn and a half-hearted
stretch, she climbed out of bed and shuffled towards the door.
“Just a minute, I’m getting there,”
she mumbled out loud. She pressed the
button on the intercom next to the door.
“Who
is it?” she asked in a still sleepy voice.
“UPS,”
came the reply. She leaned her head
against the wall and closed her eyes. It
was too early in the morning for this.
She pressed the entry button for the door several floors below.
A
few minutes later, there was a knock on her door. Looking through the peephole, she gazed at
the delivery guy from UPS with a bleary eye.
She fumbled with the two sets of deadbolts, the lock on the door and the
safety chain. Pulling the door open, she
leaned up against the doorway running a hand through her touseled brown hair.
“S’up Tess?” said the UPS man with a
grin. “Got a package for you.”
“
“Sure do—it’s almost 9:30 AM—time
for me to deliver this to you,”
Tessa gave a small snigger. “Yes, as
a matter of fact, Mr. Gary, I did. You
know that I am not an early
riser. Especially on Saturdays…”
“Yeah, I know. But someone paid to have this here to you by
this morning. Sign here.”
“Need me to spell my last name for
you?” she said, teasing him.
“No Tess—I’ve delivered enough
packages to you that I think I know it by now.
You give any thought to my invitation to dinner tomorrow night?” he
said, leaning in towards her.
Tessa looked him over and gave him a
smile. He was cute but just not her
type.
“I have,
“You really need to get out once and
awhile,”
Tessa laughed. “Yes, I know.
You’re not the first one to hand me that
line. Thanks again,
“OK, Tess—but if you change your
mind, you’ve got my number.”
“Yeah, sure…” she said as she closed
the door, redoing all the locks. Raphael
walked over to her and started rubbing against her legs. Tessa looked down at the black and white
overweight cat.
“I know what you want,” she said,
bending to rub his head. “Come on, I’ll
get you some breakfast.”
Putting the package down on the
small hall table, she rambled into the galley kitchen to feed the cat. Taking out a can of cat food from the
cupboard, she pulled off the lid with a wrinkle of her nose. She scooped out half of the pungent contents
into a small bowl as Raphael jumped onto the counter and sat patiently,
watching Tessa’s every move. She slid
the bowl over to the cat with a flick of her hand, who began eating it
hungrily.
“And I wonder why you have a weight
problem,” she said to Raphael, who flicked an ear in her direction. “I don’t know how you can possibly eat
something that smells that foul.”
Raphael ignored her and continued his meal. Covering the rest of the cat food with a
stray piece of foil and placing it into the refrigerator, she walked back into
the hallway and picked up the package.
Turning it over in her hands, it was
wrapped in brown paper, about the size of a tissue box and weighed heavy to one
side. There was no return address and
the handwriting on the front of the parcel was small and neat. The handwritten address almost looked as if
it could have been typewritten and she did not recognize the hand.
Tessa
walked into her cramped living room and sat down at her desk. It was completely
covered in papers and books from her job as a researcher in the Literary
Department up at the University. Her
area of expertise was Mythology and her favorite subject was Centaurs—so much
so that one night during her wild early years she had gone out and gotten a
tattoo of one placed on her upper thigh.
Pushing the research books and compendiums out of the way, she put the
box on the desk before her. She cut the
paper with a pair of well-worn scissors and carefully unwrapped the
package. There was a very plain,
unexciting cardboard box underneath taped shut.
Pulling the tape off the seam, Tessa caught a faint scent of lavender
waft out as she opened it up.
Inside were a very old looking book
and a small leather pouch. Atop these
items was a brief letter, written in the same small, typewriter handwriting:
“Dear
Ms. Chiron:
It
is my understanding that you are an expert in the field of Mythology—in
particular, Centaurs. My life is nearing
its end and the time has come to pass on my knowledge to one who can be trusted. Please know that these objects are very
special and very old. They have been
passed down to me with the understanding that they are to be passed on to
another when the time comes.
Rather
than see them fall into the hands of someone who will not appreciate them for
what they really are, I have been instructed to entrust them to you.
Know
this: Every word that is written within
the pages of the book are true; never doubt its authenticity. Take special care of what is in the pouch—it
is powerful and more precious than the gold it is made of.
I
know that I can trust you with these objects and can go to my grave at
peace. Wear the amulet and heed its
call. You have a bigger part to play in
the grand scheme of things than you know of.
You must move beyond your books and paper. Seek Him as you find and fulfill your
destiny.
Peace
and blessings upon you,
Lady
N.”
Tessa re-read the letter several times before putting it
down on the desk, shaking her head. She
picked up the pouch, feeling the buttery softness of the leather between her
fingers. Tessa undid the drawstring and
allowed the contents to spill out into her hand. A small gasp escaped her lips as she gazed
down at a beautifully crafted figurine of a Centauress. It hung on a very long, fine chain that
looked like liquid gold as it slid around in her palm. The Centauress was positioned in a strange
posture for a half-woman half-horse. As
it hung from its chain, the figure was standing upright on its hind-hooves, its
fore hooves and her arms held in such a way that it seemed as if she was
dancing with an invisible partner. Her
head was thrown back in a sensual manner, her eyes closed, lips parted. Tessa stared at the necklace in her hand, her
mind wondering who in the world would send her such an object of beauty. She carefully gathered up the chain and
placed the necklace atop the leather pouch on the desk.
Tessa picked up the book and looked
at the cover. It was definitely old—very
old. If she were to take an educated
guess, she would venture at least 125-150 years. The book’s cover was made of leather and sewn
together in a way that hadn’t been done in centuries. She was amazed at how supple the leather
still was—soft to the touch and not dry or cracked anywhere. The motif tooled into the cover was that of
two women dressed in togas dancing under the watchful eye of what Tessa thought
was either Bacchus or Dionysus. She
carefully paged through the book with her thumb and a stifled a laugh.
The
book was completely empty.
Tessa
stopped here and there throughout the book and every page was blank with not a
single word to be found. There were two
little slips of paper tucked in at various places throughout the book, as if
they were marking important passages to be read.
“Well, it’s definitely going to be
hard for me to doubt the authenticity of the writings when there are none,” she said to herself. She flipped through the book once again and
was about to place it back on the desk when something caught her eye. She opened the book to the inside cover and
looked very carefully at the border that ran around its edge. If you looked at it straight on, it looked
like a simple decorative border. But as
you started to close the book and viewed it at an angle, it formed a string of
words that started at the bottom edge, ran up the left outer edge of the book’s
inside cover and across the top.
Carefully, Tessa grabbed a notepad and pen and started writing down the
words:
“If
your neck be unbound, the words within will not be found.
If
your neck be quite adorned, read with care and be forewarned”
Tessa
looked down at what she had written. The
passage was obviously pointing to the necklace that had been delivered with the
book. The problem was she was having
difficulty believing that the only way to read what was in the book was to wear
the necklace. How in the world could
that possibly be? She also didn’t like
the feeling she got from the riddle—it sounded too much like a warning—that
coupled with the note that came with these objects didn’t make her feel too
comfortable to have them in her possession.
Tessa picked up the handwritten note and read it again.
“Wear
the amulet and heed its call. You have a
bigger part to play in the grand scheme of things than you know of. You must move beyond your books and
paper. Seek Him as you find and fulfill
your destiny…”
Now
what the hell was that supposed to
mean? Who was she supposed to seek? Tessa put down the letter and got up from her
desk rubbing the sides of her head at the temples. She paced the small room back and forth and
then plopped down into her armchair. Her
eyes gazed around the room looking at the pictures that lined the walls. Each and every one of them was of a Centaur—copies
of pictures done by Vallejo and Botticelli, prints of friezes and statues from
various museums and European gardens.
She had been obsessed and enamored with the legends and myths of these
half-humans since she was a young child.
She could have sworn that she had actually seen a few when she was
between the ages of 6 and 8; the image of one in particular had stayed with
her—not in detail, but she could remember that he had been handsome with dark
hair. But when she had tried to tell her
mother about the beautiful creatures she saw, she always got the typical
‘mother brush off’ of “Yes, that’s very
nice dear.” There was something
about them that spoke to her, an emotional tie that ran deep within her very
soul.
As
she grew up and matured (so to speak), she became more intrigued about the
romantic side of them, they becoming the center of her teen-aged
infatuations. A dark and handsome
Centaur with wall-to-wall rippling biceps was always the center of her imagined
dreams and fantasies during those nights of self-exploration. Now as an adult she was, of course, more the
wiser and used her obsession to excel at her chosen specialty.
Historically
(mythologically speaking), Centaurs were known for their love of wine and the
debauchery of women, their instability and their tempers. There were a few Centaurs who had been revered
in Greek mythology for their kindness and wisdom. Ironically, her surname was the name of one
of them—Chiron. Chiron was a wise
Centaur and tutored some of the best known Greek heroes—Jason and the great
Achilles among them. He was also known
as a great healer.
There had been some scientific
brouhaha a little while back that tried to convince the learned communities at
large that there was some truth in the myths.
That Centaurs, at one point in time, actually existed—that they were the
result of some type of crossbreeding of man and horse. While this notion had caused a wave of
excitement within her heart, her logical mind knew that this would be
impossible. For one thing, genetically
it was most improbable and second, it would cause the complete rewrite of Greek
mythology and its explanation of how Centaurs had come about.
According
to Greek mythology, King Ixion of Lapithae (
Of course, there was the other nobler
bloodline whereby Chiron was born from a Titan father and an Ocean Nymph
mother. He then sired a more learned
race of Centaurs—ones who were kind, wise and very helpful to man. Both were
good stories, but they were just that—stories. The scientific community quickly forgot the
little blurb and moved on with business.
Raphael,
now finished with his foul-smelling breakfast, came into the living room and
rubbed himself against her legs. Tessa
absent-mindedly dropped a hand down onto the cat’s head and gave him a rub
behind the ears. She looked back at the
desk and the book sitting there, the necklace beside it. The sun outside had shifted around enough so
that its light was now shining in through her window and was hitting the
amulet, making it sparkle. She stared at
it glowing in the light, becoming entranced by its properties in the sun. Faintly, she could have sworn she heard her
name being whispered.
“Tessa…”
She blinked
hard and shook her head as if waking from a trance. “Okay,” she said to herself. “This is way too weird. I need to find out where this package came
from. Maybe that may help me figure out
who sent it.”
She
got up and went back into the kitchen where her phone hung on the wall. Sorting through a dish filled with business
cards and other odds and ends, she found
“Hell-o?”
answered his cheery voice. Did he ever have a bad day?
“
“Hey
Tess! Did you change your mind about dinner?” he asked with just a little too
much hope in his voice.
“No,
sorry Gary, I didn’t. I just wanted to
ask a question about the package you delivered a little while ago.”
“Oh—yeah,
okay. What about it?” There was now a little too much
disappointment in his voice.
“Is
there any way for you to tell me where the package originated from? There was no return address on the box and
I’m trying to figure out who sent it to me.”
“I
can check for you Tess, just hold on a second while I pull over.” In the background, she could hear the truck
changing gears and the engine wind down to a slow idle.
“Tess? Just hang on a second and let me run it
through the computer.”
“Thanks,
“You
could really show your appreciation and go out with me to dinner tomorrow.”
“
“Yeah,
I know—you have work to do. Okay, it
looks like it was sent from one of our drop off locations in Upstate New York.”
“Upstate? There’s no way to find out who sent
this?” She was a little disappointed.
“There
is no return name or address that was given.
Sorry Tess.”
“Okay,
thanks a lot Gary. I’m sorry to have
bothered you.”
“No
bother—I just wish you’d change your mind.”
“You
never give up, do you?” she said with a laugh.
“Never!”
he said with a chuckle. “I’m going to
keep after you until you cave in. Take
care.”
“Bye,
She
hung up the phone. Upstate. She didn’t know anyone who lived in Upstate New York. Tessa walked back into the living room, the
necklace glinting, catching her eye again.
A chill went down her spine.
Walking over to the desk, she put the necklace back into its leather
pouch and placed both the pouch and the book back into the box. There.
That felt—safer.
“Might
as well shower since I’m up now,” she thought and headed back into the
bedroom. She pulled up the shades on the
windows letting the light shine into the room.
Dust motes floated up into the shafts of light as she moved through the
room. Tessa grabbed a towel and went
into the bathroom. Quickly doffing her
T-Shirt and pajama bottoms, she climbed into the shower. The hot water felt good against her body,
sending a run of gooseflesh up her legs and arms. She washed, got out, and dried off.
While
she dressed, her mind kept wandering back to her mysterious package. It called to her with unspoken words. Whispered enticingly to her like a lover
seducing its mate.
Who was she kidding?
She
knew that her curiosity would win out in the end and decided rather than wait
until the pull became unbearable, she would take the bull by the horns and
would try the necklace out over coffee and a bagel. Her mind made up, she headed for the kitchen.
After
fixing herself a cup of java and a whole-wheat bagel with vegetable cream
cheese, she sat down at her little table-for-two by the kitchen window and
pulled the items from the box. The
necklace slid from the pouch like quicksilver and lay curled up in the palm of
her hand. Again, she was taken by the
beauty of the little Centauress. Taking
a deep breath, she placed the necklace around her neck. The amulet hung down almost to her
bellybutton. She sat there, expecting
something to happen, but nothing did. No
bells and whistles, no fireworks. Not
even a single goose bump.
“You’re
a complete dork,” she mumbled to herself.
“What the hell did you think
was going to happen?” She picked up the
book and flipped through it. This time a
loud gasp issued forth from her mouth.
The book was now completely filled with hand-written entries, from front
to back. There were several different
hands, suggesting that they had been written by several different people. Tessa stared incredulously at the book in her
hands, her eyes not believing what they were now seeing. Carefully, she turned to the first page where
a fore note was written. The date was
smeared and faded, but looked like it said 1800.
“I take quill in hand to document the
astounding journey I have undertaken.
Within this journal, I hope to chronicle the events that have taken
place, so that She who follows in my stead can read and learn from the
experiences of her predecessors. My
Master has agreed that this is a good idea, but has bid me to allow an
enchantment be placed upon it, lest it fall into the wrong hands as discovery
could result in a great loss to all.”
Tess
looked up from the book and looked at the outside cover again. This was a journal, not a book as she first
thought. She continued.
“If you are reading this writing, then you
have already begun your own journey—one that your feet cannot turn from. Do not fear or dread for you have been chosen
for a most noble task. Seek your
destiny—listen to your dreams and they will lead you to where you must go.
Peace to you,
Lady Rhianna”
Another
“Lady” name. Tessa pulled out the note
that had come with the parcel. This was
signed by a ‘Lady “N.” Apparently ‘Lady
N.’ didn’t feel the need of giving her full first name—not that it would have
helped identify her. Tessa took a long
sip of coffee and bit into the bagel.
Taking a deep cleansing breath, she turned the page and began to read.
“My
journey began at the age of 27 while traveling with my father and mother on
holiday. We had decided to go through
the mountains on our way to visit relatives in the
I
picked a seemingly plain path, one that was clear cut and easy to follow. I had been walking for a little while when
out of the corner of my eye I caught sight of something moving just beyond the
trees in the wood. I stopped and waited
to see if I could spot what had been moving, praying the entire time that it
wasn’t a bear or mountain lion. After
several minutes, a young boy appeared from behind a large oak tree about 50
yards or so into the woods. His face was
handsome, yet there was an otherworldly look about him, something that made you
feel that he was not of this earth. He
smiled and gestured to me to come to him.
He was dressed in naught but a loincloth about his waist. I thought this was most unusual as it was
spring and the air was still cool. At
first, I thought him to be of a local Indian tribe, but he did not have the
look of a native. I then wondered where
his parents might be. He gestured again
to me, but a little more avidly.
Stepping off the path, I headed towards him.
“Are
you lost?” I asked as I approached. He
merely smiled. His eyes were a beautiful
blue color, like that of the
Whoa.
Tessa
dropped her hand with the book in it to the table, her mouth hanging open. Was she expected to believe there was
actually a place that held a
According to the journal, Lady Rhianna was
taken to a cave whereby she passed through, what seemed to be in our day and
age, a portal or doorway to another dimension.
Within that world lived not only villages of humans but a valley that
held a herd of Centaurs, about 35 in number.
The journal went on to say that she was introduced to their leader—or
Stallion, as she had called it—and had gotten on well with them. After a while, she became concerned that her
parents would miss her and attempted to leave.
She was told that her parents were now long gone; that human time was
not the same as their time. She refused
to believe this and insisted on going home.
The Stallion gave her an amulet to wear which would help her find her
way back to them. The young boy led her
to the portal where she stepped through and left to find her way back to the
rest stop and her parents, whom by now were surely waiting for her.
Nothing
seemed to look the same—the clear-cut path that she had walked on only that
morning was now nowhere to be found. She
wandered for hours and could find no road, no rest stop. Eventually she came across a collapsed wooden
frame of a building that was completely overgrown and was horrified to find a
half buried sign in the dirt that carried the faded name of the rest stop. Time, indeed, had moved mightily on. She now looked down at her body and noticed
for the first time that her clothes no longer fit her properly, that her body
had changed as well—she had grown older.
The
same young boy appeared and gestured to her again, a smile on his face. Feeling that there was no other choice, she
followed him back to the doorway and left her world behind.
The
journal was sporadic and gave mundane descriptions of what Lady Rhianna did
from day to day or sometimes from month to month. She lived under the Stallion’s roof and took
daily strolls with him through the woods or fields. The Valley was a beautiful place—heaven on
earth (or wherever it was)—almost like
While
her aging process was much slower in the Valley, she nonetheless grew old and
the Stallion advised her that it was time to find a successor to take her place
from the outside human world. After
dreams and visions, he chose the new “Lady” and set about bringing her in. Lady Rhianna seemed to have no clue as to how
this was done or why another was needed to replace her. Her last entry was that the new Lady had been
found, but that she had not met her as of her last writing. There was nothing further of Lady Rhianna.
Tess
walked out into the living room, which was now bathed in the late light of the
descending sun. Raphael had found a
comfortable spot on the windowsill and was in his familiar sleeping-cat pose. She held the amulet in her hand and ran her
fingers lightly over the horse-half of the Centauress. If this was the amulet referred to in the
journal, this piece was well over 200 years old—but looked as if it could have
been made yesterday. Tess pulled the
chain towards her head to take it off and place it back into its pouch, but the
chain held fast at the mid-point of her face.
It was as if invisible hands held it there. She let the necklace fall back to her abdomen
and tried to pull it off from the back; again, it stopped halfway up her
head. Tess sat down heavily in her
armchair, running through all the plausible explanations as to why she could
not remove such a light and fragile piece of jewelry from her neck. She tried again to remove it from her neck,
even trying to break the chain but it would not budge. The necklace wasn’t coming off. A slight fit of panic started to fill and
tighten in her chest as the line from the note came floating back to her:
“Wear
the amulet and heed its call. You have a
bigger part to play in the grand scheme of things than you know of…”
The disbelief of understanding
suddenly became crystal clear to her: She had been chosen. For whatever reason—her love of Centaurs or
her knowledge of them—she had been chosen.
But chosen for what?
“All right, you really need to get a
grip,” she said to herself trying to calm down.
“There has to be a logical explanation to all of this—I just need to
find it.”
Placing the necklace down inside her
shirt, she stood up and went back into the kitchen to clean up her unfinished
breakfast from this morning. Pulling a
yogurt and a banana out of the fridge for an impromptu meal, she tucked the
journal under her arm and went back to her desk. She carefully placed the old book back into
its box and scoffed down her late lunch.
Tessa turned her attention back to the work she had brought home from
the University, some research she had promised one of the Professors by Monday. She worked steadily for another hour or so
but her mind kept wandering back to the journal. Avoiding the urge to take the book from its
box, she pushed herself to finish off the papers on the life of Hercules, whose
wife, Tess mused to herself, had almost been raped by a Centaur. It was near
Her stomach now growling loudly from
the lack of food, she grabbed her sneakers from a corner of the room and put
them on. Raphael looked at her from the
top of the bookcase and meowed loudly.
“I’m sorry Raph,” she said up to
him, clicking her tongue. “I’ll get you
something to eat in a minute.”
She finished tying her sneakers and
went back into the kitchen, spilling out the remaining contents of the cat food
onto a plate. After being in the fridge,
it gratefully didn’t have that killer smell it had this morning. Raphael jumped up on the counter and mewed
loudly, apparently not happy at having to wait this late to eat.
“Here,” she said, sliding the dish
over to him. “Eat and be quiet. Me, I’m
going out for pizza.”
She grabbed her jacket and threw it
on. Seizing her purse, she left the
apartment, headed down the stairs and out into the night.
It was one of the things she loved
about living in the City—it didn’t matter what time of day or night you went
out; something was always going on or was open.
Other than that, it was overcrowded, loud and the skyscrapers blocked out
the sky. But she had come here anyway to
make her living, after being offered a job at one of the country’s most
prestigious universities. Their library
was world-renowned and there she could devour everything she craved about her
myths and her beloved Centaurs.
Tessa
walked about three blocks down to her favorite pizzeria and went inside. Vinny, the owner, was working tonight behind
the counter and he gave her a smile as she came in.
“Hey, Vin. How’s it going?” she said waving to him. “Two slices and a Coke, please.”
“You got it Tess,” he said, grabbing
two slices from a tray on top of the counter.
“How’s my favorite bookworm tonight?”
He opened the top oven and popped the slices onto the heated stone.
“Oh, she’s just peachy. I think I’ve been working too hard—needed a
break and some food.”
Vinny smiled at her. “When you gonna get yourself a nice man and
settle down? Pretty girl like you should
have a man to look after you.”
Tessa rolled her eyes. “Vinny, I told you before. When I find the right one, I’ll settle
down. For now, I’m glad I have time to
myself.”
He let out a laugh as he filled a
cup with Coke and handed it to her.
“That’ll be $8.25 total.”
Tessa handed him the money, and went
and sat down at a table by the window.
While she waited for the slices to come out of the oven, she watched as
people passed by the window but her mind wandered once again to the journal and
the possibility of the Valley’s actual existence. She had a friend who was a Physicist in the
Science Department of the University who might be able to answer some questions
for her. The trick was to ask about it
without making it seem like she was nuts.
Vinny
brought over her slices and went back to his counter. She sprinkled salt and garlic powder over the
pizza, folded the first slice in half lengthwise, and then took a big
bite. She didn’t realize just how hungry
she was until she started eating and before she knew it, the pizza was
history. She sucked down the last of the
soda, grabbed the paper plate, and threw them into the garbage.
“Good
night, Vinny,” she yelled over her shoulder as she pushed the door open. Vinny with a phone glued to his ear waved a
good night to her.
Tessa
walked back toward the apartment, went upstairs and inside. Raphael came padding over to her and rubbed
her legs.
“Missed
me already?” she said bending down to rub his head. “I was only out for about a half hour. What are you going to do when I’m gone?” She stopped rubbing his head and stood
up. Why did she just say that? She had no plans to go anywhere. She shook her head and hung her jacket up on
the wall hook. Locking the front door
and shutting off the lights in the living room, she took the journal from its
box and headed into the bedroom. Tessa
placed it on the nightstand and changed into her T-Shirt for bed. She brushed her teeth and unbraided her long
brown hair, brushing it out until it shone.
She had decided to let her hair grow last year, after having it cut
short for the past five. It had grown in
pretty quickly and was now past her shoulders.
For some reason, she got more dates with longer hair than she did when
she had short hair. Men and their
penchant for long hair on women—go figure. For some reason, they had all been one-night
dates, none of them interesting her in the least. They were all—well—boring.
She
flipped off the bathroom light and climbed into bed, sitting up against the
headboard. She stuffed her pillow behind
her and grabbed the journal, no longer able to resist its silent and persistent
call.
Picking
up where she had left off, the next entry was by a ‘Lady Elaine’ and was Lady
Rhianna’s successor. Lady Elaine did not
write much into the journal, but did indicate that the Centaurs’ numbers were
starting to diminish and that her Sire (her term for the Stallion) had indicated
that a “Time of Foaling” would soon be approaching. She gave no other explanation as to what this
was (although Tessa guessed it must have been a way to replenish their herd)
and again her life, while idyllic, was nothing spectacular to speak of. She hinted that her Sire was in his later
stages of life and that there was talk of his son becoming his successor. Her fate ended in the same way as Lady R,
with the search for another human woman to replace her in her old age. Lady E was fortunate enough to meet this one
and indicated that she seemed to be “over-exuberant” and “had no pride.” What this meant Tessa could only guess as
there were no further entries by Lady E.
The
next entry was made by a “Lady Collette” and was the longest of all her
contributions to the journal. She only
had four passages in the journal and was bookmarked by one of the pieces of
paper.
Lady
C apparently enjoyed the bawdy side of Centaur life, having written in her
first passage about the “wonderful parties” and “unabashed love-making” enjoyed
at these soirees. Her Sire apparently
was not amused, wanting her for himself only.
Tessa wondered with amusement at how the act of lovemaking with a Centaur
exactly went about. They must weigh
close to what a horse actually weighs and she just couldn’t picture a
relatively small, fragile human woman lying on her back waiting for her Centaur
lover to make his move. She turned the
page with a giggle and a smile on her face.
The
following entry announced that her Sire had gotten her with child and that he
was looking forward to the birth of their son.
Short and sweet.
The
next entry was a serious one and was the one that was marked with the slip of
paper, apparently by Lady N.
“There has been a terrible crime
committed and the Centauri are up in arms.
A small golden idol of the Mother Centauress has been taken from my
Sire’s house—from his very own altar. It
is about the size of a man’s fist and very primitive in shape having no detail
to it at all.
She
has the four legs and body of a horse with the torso of a woman with large
breasts and her arms outstretched over her head. I am told that this idol carries the power to
bestow fertility (among other powers) upon the Centaurs and their women. Without it, they fear they will not be able
to produce offspring to keep their race alive.
They do not know who stole the idol but from the dreams my Sire has had,
he knows it has left the Valley and has entered my human world. The statue must be returned.”
Tessa
laid the journal down for a moment and rubbed her eyes. She looked at the clock on the nightstand and
the LED read
She
re-read the last entry. The description
of the idol seemed very familiar to her.
The University has a collection of primitive art, both out on display in
the library and in its storage rooms.
She remembered distinctly there were several pieces that were
Centaur-like in design. She would have
to take a look on Monday. Since the
entry was marked for her, it was obvious this was something they (whomever they
were) wanted her to pay attention to.
She left the bookmark in place.
Tessa
finished reading the last entry, which was written in a very weak hand and had
indicated that although her son was delivered healthy, he died a few days
later. She herself did not fare well
during the delivery and despite the healing powers of the Centauri, feared she
would be dead within the week. Her Sire
blamed the terrible outcome on the missing statue of the Centauress. The search for a new human woman had begun.
Tessa
sat for a few moments thinking over the entries from these three women. Something about the dates and the ages did
not sit right with her. If her
calculations were correct, or even close, these three women had to cover at
least 143 years in human time, but yet all three apparently lived with the same
Sire. Assuming each one lived to an age
of around 70—with the exception of Lady C who died after childbirth—the time
made no sense. Tessa went back to Lady
Rhianna’s first entry whereby she was warned that their time was not like human
time. But it also said that their age
process was slowed down while in the Valley.
Tessa shook her head, confused.
If their aging process was slowed down in the Valley, these women should
have lived to almost 100 or possibly more of our human years—making the time
span 300+ human years. This put the
story of Rip Van Winkle to shame.
Tessa
also couldn’t figure out why it was so important to the Centauri to bring in a
woman from the human world, when it was obvious they didn’t need to. It also suddenly struck her if this was one
of the reasons why women went missing and were never found again—they had been
taken from this world and brought through to another. The journal had indicated that there were
villages of humans (or what she assumed were human-like) who had women within
their midst. Why not use them to have
children? Had the numbers of “human”
women there gone so low that interbreeding was now becoming a problem? Perhaps this was why they were not successful
in bringing forth live offspring. But
Lady C was a human woman and while she had brought forth a baby successfully,
the poor soul did not live.
Tessa
leaned her head back on the pillow that was propped up behind her and let out a
long breath, her mind swirling with information and questions. She was almost done with the journal and was
debating whether or not to finish it. It
was already after midnight, and thank God it was Sunday tomorrow, so she could
sleep in. With that last thought
settling it, she opened the journal to the next set of entries.
The
successor to Lady C was none other than Tessa’s friend, Lady N—but this time
she actually had given her first name—Nia.
The name had no meaning for Tessa—it didn’t even sound familiar. Lady Nia
arrived apparently shortly after Lady C’s death and her first entry was very
somber. She said that the Centauri were
losing heart and that there were rumblings amongst the herd that their end was
drawing near. Her Sire, Minos, (this was
the first time he had actually been named in the journal) was also growing very
old and nearing his time to die. The
warriors in the herd pressed Minos to allow them to go into the human world and
bring back dozens of women so that they could assure the continuance of their
race. Apparently, Minos was against this
and refused to let them go. (Tessa
wondered how a Centaur could possibly cross over into the human world without
being seen or noticed.) Minos announced
that his son would become his successor and rule over the Valley. Lady N indicated that Minos’s son was young,
strong, and very intelligent. Minos’ son
convinced the warrior Centauri to wait until he took power, that he would find
a way to solve the pending problem. Lady
N also indicated that Minos’s son possessed a far greater gift of prophecy and
foresight than his father did and was born with a great wealth of knowledge and
history about their own race.
Lady
Nia continued to live with Minos until his death. He died on a dreary day in late spring. She wrote that she had never seen anything
like the funeral that was held for the great Centaur. His age was 270 in Centaur years. A great funeral pyre was built on a large
stone platform in the middle of the Valley, where the forbears of these great
beings went to their maker before them.
For days before the actual burning of his body, vast offerings of food
and flowers were placed around the body by Centauri and humans alike. His body was adorned with a deep blue silken
toga, which wound gracefully around his human-half. The night of the pyre, Lady Nia came forward
and kissed the forehead of her beloved Sire.
Minos’s son lit the fire under his father’s corpse and stood guard over
the body as it burned, flanked by two human Centurions holding long
spears. Wailing and lamentations filled
the night air. As the body burned, the
Centaurs came forth, one by one, and cutting a length of hair from their tails,
tossed it onto the pyre. Lady Nia said
she had never felt such deep sorrow in her life.
When
the fire was finally out the next day, the ashes were gathered and handed to
Minos’s son, who brought them to one of their sacred rivers, scattering them
over the surface. He then returned to take
his father’s place as Stallion and leader of the herd.
Lady
Nia waited for him to come, kneeling down in the center of the main room of the
house, bowing her head down to the floor in recognition of his new
position. When he finally came and
stopped in front of her, she reached out a hand and touched his fore hoof. He recognized her by touching her head and
she stood, looking up into his eyes. She
asked him for permission to continue to live under Minos’s roof, which he
granted as a last favor to his father.
But he also told her that his search for a new human woman would begin
immediately, since she was not his. Lady
Nia told him she understood completely and returned to her rooms.
Lady
Nia continued to write in several entries that Minos’s son was almost fanatical
about finding the right human woman. He
had many visions as to whom or where she was and it took much longer than he
thought to find her.
“It is now my turn to pass on these
objects and knowledge to you, Lady Tessa, for you have been chosen by my Master
to be my successor.”
Tessa
stopped reading in her tracks and her heart did a couple of flips inside her
chest. She was actually named inside this journal—a journal that
was over 200 years old. Her initial
suspicions were now confirmed, but what to do about it? How does one go about finding a portal into
another dimension?
“Wait a second,” she said to
herself. “Let’s get a grip, girl and take a reality check. You’re starting to sound like you really
believe all this.” She ran a hand
through her hair, letting out another long breath. She went back to the journal and the last
entries which held the second piece of paper, book-marking the page.
“What
you need to know you have read up to this point. Any further information that you will need to
know will be given to you once you are brought through. I cannot tell you what my Master wants from
you, or how he will get you here. I just
know that he will do what he needs to do.
There are some things I wish I had
known before I was brought here and think that the following notations will be
of help to you and your initial entry into the Valley.
The Centauri are a race of ancient
beings, having been around since early Greek times—ancient Greek times in fact,
when the Gods still meddled with the lives of men. They are a proud race, albeit one given to
questionable morals. Oh how they do love
their revelry and women! Loving a woman
is as important to a Centaur as food and water, and they do it every chance
they get. But they have been good to me
and I have no regrets about being brought here.
The following are some things that may
assist you when you meet my Master (or any of the Centauri) for the first time:
When meeting a Centaur of rank (such
as my Master) for the first time, I would highly suggest that you assume a most
respectful posture. When you hear the
Centaur approaching (which is not hard to do as his hooves will echo on the
marble floors), kneel and bow down, placing your hands on the floor. Bow your head down onto your hands and do not
move or look up. When the Centaur
approaches and has come to a halt in front of you, touch his hoof with your
hand. This is the highest sign of
respect you can give them. (I only do
this with my Master. Any other Centaur I
simply bow.) Do not do anything until
you have been instructed to do so. Do
not look up, sit up, stand up, or speak.
Always avert your eyes and do not look at him until he has given
permission to do so.
The Centauri are very honest and blunt
to a fault about many things. Do not
take offense, as they do not mean it as such.
They are very literal—therefore, be sure to answer any questions
truthfully and with clear answers. The
worst thing you can do to a Centaur is lie.
Honesty is always the best approach.
There are other things that they do
that are odd or strange to our way of thinking—things that border on the
magical. Keep in mind that they are an
ancient race with ancient ways.
If you are ever told to ‘avert your
eyes,’ you will know that you have offended or angered a Centauri. It is best to assume the ‘respectful posture’
and offer apologies for whatever the offense.
If your apology is accepted, he will come and place a hand upon your
head. This is their way of saying they
forgive you.
I feel compelled to make a note about
their ‘stomping.’ This is an action that
is done quite often and must be taken in the context of the situation at
hand. A stomp of a hoof can mean anything
from excitement, joy, anger, impatience or a challenge. It can be done in anticipation of
something. I always noticed that Minos
would stomp whenever I accepted his offer to bathe with him. (Something he enjoyed immensely.) So just try to determine what the stomp is
for by what is going on at the moment.
With that, my dear Lady Tessa, I bring
my portion of this journal to an end.
Until the day we meet, and I know we will, blessings and peace be upon
you and do not fear the path your feet have been placed upon.”
Tessa snapped the journal closed
with a quiet thud. She stared at the
sleeping form of Raphael at the foot of her bed, his chest rising and falling
with his breathing. Dear God, it all
sounded so real, so believable. She put
the journal on her nightstand and rubbed her face with her hands. The clock now read
Copyright 2007 - T. M. Sulsona - All Rights Reserved
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