MIKAZUKI

PROLOGUE

Maybe, someday, she would find him here along the River Styx.

MOTHER, the ORIGINAL GODDESS OF THE EARTH

As the boatsman slowly approached them along the river of lava, the goddess gently cradled the man’s lifeless figure in her arms. Her dark skin glistened as heat from underground steam vents created a miserably sticky environment, an impossible place to breathe; that is, if she required breath for survival. And other than the sound of the bubbling river and the boatsman’s oar quietly gliding through the molten earth, the cavern was empty and serene, the perfect place to cast away a body.

Mother smiled as she pulled her fingers through the man’s coarse, wool-like beard, now mostly white with age. She placed her face next to his to feel the scruff of his beard along her cheeks and to take in his fragrance, a soothing scent of olive and tea tree oils, the very ones she had given him many moons ago. The man’s skin, like refined and burnished bronze, nearly matched the tone of her own, and she suddenly remembered all the good times they had had together on Earth, walking the lands of their shared domain; or more accurately put, the goddess’s domain which she shared with him and his creations. But their agreement was an amicable one, up until the end, and she knew that despite the thoughts and opinions of the other gods and goddesses, she was going to miss the one they called Father. Therefore, it was only fitting for her, the one God loved most, to grant him a proper repose.

When the shrouded boatsman finally arrived along the riverbank, the goddess carefully lifted the man and laid him on his back in the boat. She placed her hands on his bare chest and for the first time since his death, a tear formed in Mother’s eye. She knew the perils to come, and the thought frightened her, but Father’s convictions were strong when he asked her for help. Besides, they had watched their plan develop for many years — eighteen in fact — so it was much too late to turn back now. Maybe, someday, she would find him here along the River Styx.

Mother looked up to the oarsman, but she knew better to think it could see, hear, or speak on its own, an empty husk who’s sole purpose was to escort Earth’s exalted dead to their final resting place. So, with sadness still swelling in her heart, the goddess gently gripped Father’s withered hands and took a deep breath. 

She stared into his eyes. Once lit like a flame in fire, they now rested windowless, swimming in a sea of obsidian, and the sight made her cry again. The Original Goddess’s beautiful but broken voice, uttering a language now long-forgotten, echoed throughout the cavern as she sang a solemn song of requiem:

Kyrie, eleison.

(Lord, have mercy on us)

Kyrie, eleison!

(Lord, have mercy on us)

Et lacrimosa dies illa

(And on this day of tears and mourning)

Judex ergo cum sedebit…

(When the judge takes his place…)

At this point, the Original Goddess crossed her hands over Father’s non-beating heart and continued the eulogy, holding each part and harmony in the song on her own accord.

Magnus Deus,

(Almighty God)

Rex tremendae majestatis,

(King of tremendous majesty)

Qua resurget ex favilla

(When from the ashes shall rise)

Et judicandus homo reus.

(And all humanity to be judged)

Nil inultum remanebit.

(Nothing will remain unavenged)

As the goddess continued to breathe life into the ancient words, the man’s aura, a swirling mass of blue twilight, left his deceased body, floating as wisps in the air up and away from the boat. The goddess’s own form also glowed, hers a rich forest green, which too began to leave her body. 

Intertwined and entangled in a beautiful aerial battle, the two life forces danced in space for a while before violently converging, becoming quickly absorbed into the body of the Nubian Goddess. She gasped as the immense power of his masculine aura filled her, and began to cry as his memories did the same, making her both thankful and rueful of the actions they had taken. The goddess placed her soft but scarred hands on the man’s face as her melodic voice finished her song:

Huic ergo parce, O Deos, in Sion

(Spare them, then, O Gods, in Zion)

Et dona eis requiem

(And grant them eternal rest)

Dona eis requiem.

(Grant them eternal rest)

Then the goddess tapped the edge of the boat, and the oarsman began to row once more, slowly guiding the boat deeper into the silent solitude of the darkness.

Once the dead man was out of sight, the goddess, still knelt on the banks of the molten river, sighed and wiped the remaining tears from her eyes. Then, in a calm, cool voice, she spoke to two shadows, now appearing over each of her shoulders.

“My dear Selene, Goddess of the Moon, please prepare the ladies for our arrival. There is much work to do.”

One of the shadows spoke with a soft, but firm, feminine voice.

“At once, Queen Mother.”

“Sun God Helios, my warrior, the time has come. Secure the changeling lord, and bring him to me.”

The other shadow spoke with a rich baritone.

“It shall be done, Original Goddess.”

“Thank you both. Now, go in peace.”

Without a word, the shadows vanished, leaving the goddess alone once again to nothing more but her thoughts and the heaviness of the weight of the world, now resting firmly and solely on her shoulders. She closed her eyes.

“Father, may the gods have mercy on me.”