Who was she? Do I know her? Did I ever?
The hollow ache in my chest tells me I do. But the harder I try to remember her, the faster the feeling dissipates. In its place, a new feeling dawns, hot and electric, full of power. Full of promise. Full of everything I could ever want.
“Come back, Ansel,” a voice calls, so unlike the angel woman. This one is dark and certain, full of fire and smoke and death. “You know where you belong. Return to me now, my Black Sun.”
At his command, the hollow inside me fills with purpose, with a deep desire to please him. To forget all else that came before, and forsake all that will come after.
There is only him. Only power. Only fire.
I blink away the momentary confusion, and my vision sharpens. Before me, the dark druid stands tall, the Wand of Flame and Fury gripped tightly in his hand.
I bow to him, dropping to my knees.
“Forgive me,” I say.
“It is done.” He touches the Wand to my chest, the uncomfortable heat of it urging me back to my feet. “They don’t understand our great need, Ansel. The purity of our mission is like a blinding light, chasing away their inner darkness. They recoil from it in shame. Only fire will set them free.”
“Yes, I understand.”
“So you’ve said, yet part of you recoils as well.”
“What must I do?”
“We must separate that which prevents you from fulfilling your great destiny. From achieving your ultimate power.”
I nod, willing to do whatever it takes to please him. To earn his trust.
The druid steps aside, revealing the red dirt path where I first saw the woman. But instead of an angel, another woman awaits in the distance, standing inside a golden chariot led by two magnificent horses—one black, one white.
“You mustn’t move, Ansel,” he warns. “Not until the ritual is complete.”
I promise to obey, and the druid’s eyes sparkle with something that looks like malice, but I know that can’t be true. Hesavedme. He sees my true potential. He will not fail me.
Stepping off the path, he raises the wand toward the sky, his powerful magick igniting the wood, burning so hot it’s nearly white.
Far in the distance, the charioteer whips her horses into action, driving them hard and fast toward us.
Toward me.
The druid closes his eyes and speaks his dark enchantment:
Flame and fury, will and might
Rend the shadow from the light
Dark desires now revealed
Heart and soul shall be concealed
His voice grows louder and more menacing at every recitation, magick crackling in the air around him, white flames licking along the wooden staff. The horses pummel the dirt path, the sound of it like the ancient, unstoppable heartbeat of the earth itself, thudding up through the ground, rattling my very bones.
The charioteer is relentless, driving her horses harder and faster, every crack of her whip making me flinch. Their speed is almost impossible to comprehend, the two horses finally blurring into a single gray beast, powerful and massive, unstoppable.
The druid continues to shouts his spell, and a single tear slips down my cheek.
I am awestruck.
I am paralyzed.
