Tuesday, July 12, 2016

CRESSIDA WAS ONE OF THE AURAS ... 7/12/16

Now they call me 'Cressida,' but you may know me as Aura. Both names mean the same thing. Cressida is Greek. Aura is Latin. Each means 'gold.' I am the eldest daughter of the mole-folk leader. Not magic in any meaningful way, just different. We live in the unused subway tunnels beneath the city. I 'played' with Jonathon. He knows us. Sylvia and I were favorites of his. Our subterranean candlelit sponge baths are legendary. God bless those old cans of Sterno.

I said that I am not tinged by magic in any meaningful way... but magic isn't everything. I endure through other means. Does my body live forever? No, but my soul does and I remember every instant of the journey. No sooner do I shed one mortal coil then I inhabit another. Heaven can wait. I've never been there. My memory goes back to early hominid times. No names then. Little in the way of language, though we had our dramas... who coupled with whom... who gives the best 'grooms and tickles.' Simple times..

Then I was Neanderthal. Then I was Cro Magnon. Then I was Eefah of the Podoh People. Mud pack hairdos and henna squiggly-wigglies all over the place. Please think not that these transformations happened quickly. They did not. When I say 'Neanderthal' I speak not of one generation, but of eons. I saw the ice come and I saw the ice go. Sometimes I was female. Sometimes I was male. I've been a eunuch and a king. Does that sound like Sinatra? Forgive me. I did not mean it. It all seems like a whirlwind. I've enjoyed few of my childhoods. You know how children are. And childbirth can be lethal. Everything was lethal. Once I was a Grand Inquisitor. Once I built a railroad. Made it run. Once I babbled my life away in a dungeon for thirty six years. Believe me, Man of La Mancha it was not. Burnt for a witch eighty one times. Only deserved it twice. Was Queen of Bythia once. Was King of the Gypsies twice too. Never a vampire, but killed by them a few times.

You know what stays with me? ... A rogue wave off the coast of Madagascar. I was a deck slave. The sky was black... a charcoal dome of swirling clouds... I was terrified... All the passengers and most of the crew were down below. The 'lodestone' I was... a seamen's superstition, meant to draw the charge from the storm.... a sacrifice to Jove, there to take the lightning...

But before I got the chance, Neptune threw something else my way... a small undulation, off in the distance, barely visible in the maelstrom rolled toward the ship and the few sailors left on deck... each transfixed by the rising horror before us... a crushing wall of water more than one hundred and thirty cubits high. Two heartbeats later, the remaining crewmen ran below, leaving me all alone to face our hellish end. I said my prayers, as the dhow rolled under (we took the wave broadside) untold tons of dark, cold pressure... At least it was over fast... but I did feel my skull pop.

And now I am a bride... a vampire bride... brought over to this new form of enchantment.... a 'never die' in body, as well as soul... a female for what might be a very long time... a vampirina meant to be 'sister' to Sarah.....

Does she know about Jonathon and I?...

Of course she does....

But I'm privy to a lot about that one too...

Maybe I was ready for a change...

Who knows?

<more next time>

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