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I stay firmly planted beside Lorelei. Within an hour, several women enter L’s apothecary carrying bags packed full. The last one to enter locks the door behind her.
“How long has she been like this?” One of the women asks.
“At least an hour and 15 minutes, but it could be longer than that.”
“Test her blood,” one says to another.
“What do you mean test her blood?” I have the biggest urge to object. But I don’t, I just sit on the rug next to Lorelei allowing the witches their space.
Lorelei appears distant, her eyes flickering with unspoken turmoil. The witches, their eyes reflecting the depths of ancient knowledge, move with deliberate grace. A small vial collects droplets of Lorelei’s blood, and as the liquid swirls within, a subtle glow emanates, revealing an unsettling truth.
“This is no ordinary attack, rather it’s an astral attack, and a rather powerful one at that,” the first woman who entered the building murmurs, her voice a low hum that reverberates through the room. “Lorelei is entwined in the threads of an ancient prophecy.”
A shiver runs down my spine as the gravity of her words sinks in. The witches continue their examination, casting runes and symbols in the air. A strange ceremony that I feel like I am intruding upon. I can feel the weight of Lorelei’s destiny hanging in the balance.
“It is as we suspected,” another witch says, her eyes narrowing in concentration. “Lorelei is the focal point of an age-old prophecy. A young woman destined for a facedown with her own father.”
My heart pounds, and I glance at Lorelei, her expression distant, lost in the echoes of a haunting nightmare. The witches exchange knowing glances, their ancient knowledge unveiling a truth that sends a chill through the room.
“The prophecy speaks of a duel for control,” the lead witch continues, her tone solemn. “A struggle between a father and hisdaughter. The outcome will determine who holds dominion over her body, unleashing powers of truly momentous proportions.”
“But Lorelei’s dad is a human?” I offer.
“A human who was unwittingly possessed when she was conceived.” The witch responds matter-of-factly.
I feel a knot tighten in my chest as the weight of the prophecy settles over us. The witches’ words linger in the air. Lorelei, caught in the crossfire, becomes the vessel for ancient forces...this doesn’t sound good.
“Is there a way to break the prophecy, to protect Lorelei?” I ask, my voice filled with desperation.
The witches exchange somber glances, and the lead witch replies, “Prophecies are ancient and powerful, breaking them is no simple feat. But we can help, we can make sure Lorelei stays stable and we can lend her some of our strength. Let’s hope she wins this battle because if she doesn’t, we are all going to be in a lot of trouble.”
“What kind of trouble?” I ask with furrowed brow.
“The kind where a lot of people die,” one of the witches says impatiently. “Do you know whether she had any particular dreams over the past few weeks?”
“I know she wasn’t sleeping much; she has dark circles under her eyes to prove it.”
They all form a circle around Lorelei and begin unpacking their bags, pulling out all sorts of herbs, crystals, and oddities I have not seen before, because I am not that well-versed in witchcraft. Everything that happens next is a blur.
There is chanting, herbs burning, singing, and handholding and I’ve been nudged out of the circle, forced to watch from the outside and unable to help or even hold Lorelei’s hand. Her eyes are still rolled into the back of her head, the sharing has stopped and so has the mumbling.
I hold my breath. The helplessness paralyzes me. This apparently is a fight Lorelei must fight alone and I don’t like that one bit.
Chapter 16
Lorelei
Iam straddling two worlds. The world I grew up knowing, a physical world, and a strange place charged with energy I have never felt before, an astral world, in which there is a kind of power I had never imagined was real.
In this in-between, all things exist together at once and, in a way, they don’t exist at all. My muscles back in the physical realm are tight, I can feel the stress coursing through my veins, the cramping in my straining muscles. There’s a comfort in knowing I’m still connected to my physical world.
Taking a deep breath, I know I must focus on nothing and everything at the same time. This astral realm is the place where the stars were born, the place where a part of me was born, I just know it.
Memory of Isaiah’s loving touch, in the physical world, fills my soul to the brim. I want to return to him, to hold him, to kiss him, I want to see him smiling once more.I will return to him. I must.
While I don’t understand completely what is happening to me here, a certain strange knowing keeps my brain from getting overwhelmed. Almost as though this knowledge has been hiding in me all along.
I’m not sure whether to be super creeped out or think this is extremely cool so, I teeter between the two feelings. Walking through the stars and swirling dances of abstract colors that pass me by like lovers engaged in a Waltz, I pray that I will be able to leave this astral place behind, permanently. That I will be able to live the rest of my days with Isaiah in our physical world.
