by
Darin Dion Hunt
The water was crisp, cool and crystal clear as it came over the edge of the mountainside and poured down on top of him.
Miland silenced his mind and concentrated on the water as it roared past him. The tears that had ruled his eyes and face disappeared as the sadness drifted away with the river.
Soon, his mind and body were clean and he made his way toward the riverbank.
The water soaked the hair on his chest and ran down his tanned body, he was still attractive to many, even at 160. But, he could not bring himself to find another wife or even to sleep with another. He still remembered the love of his life and had endless nightmares of the night that the Mongai took her and his unborn son from him.
At times, he wanted to beg the elders to remove their spell from him and let him die. But, they needed him to live; soon his unborn child would be freed from the Pit of Shakasa and they wanted him to be here for his son. Still, he had to leave the village.
Since the night of the attack, he had been tormented by horrible nightmares and he wondered about the ceremony and of his son. He wasn't sure anymore, as to whether, it would be his child that was born or another spirit that simply took over his son's body. Because of his doubts, he left the village swearing that he would not return unless he could find a way to come to terms with his loss. Part of him blamed the elders and part of him blamed this ancient spirit that had claimed his son's body. At times, he wished that he could kill him and at others, he wanted to hold him close.
He climbed out of the water and dried himself, then laid himself down on the grass and closed his eyes.
*
The rain had begun to fall that night; Miland was making love to his wife, Kira on the shore of the lake where the elders normally gathered to meditate. They had tried not to make love while she was carrying, but they longed for each other's touch and could no longer deny each other the pleasure of sharing their flesh.
They were both happy and excited to be having a child together. They had been trying for so long to have a family and when it finally happened they were filled with joy.
Then, Kira became ill and the elders told them that her child would not survive. When they were told of the ceremony, they had to agree to it.
As Miland felt himself climax, he wanted to explode and be a part of her forever. Then, the screams swept through the mountains and they both knew that the village was being attacked. They gathered their clothing and tried to dress as quickly as possible; but the sounds of something approaching them caused them to run into the woods leaving their clothing behind.
Miland heard the growling behind them, but not the attack. He simply found himself lying on the ground with his stomach ripped open and watched helplessly as they cut the child from her.
Tears flowed down his face as he listened to Kira scream throughout the night, begging him to help her and wanting him to hold her, as her body grew cold. Finally, he heard his son cry, and then, they were gone.
*
Miland awoke to the touch of a hand against his chest and screamed. As he came to his senses, he saw an old woman standing over him. Embarrassed, he quickly grabbed his clothes and covered his body.
"Dear me. I am sorry, my son! I did not mean to frighten you. It is just that you seemed to be having a nightmare and I did not wish to see you suffer." The old woman told him.
"You cannot prevent my suffering." Miland whispered, as he tried to dress himself without her seeing his body. "Who are you?"
"Oh, dear. I'm afraid that it has been so long since I had company, that I do not remember my name. But, you can call me Grandmother." She replied.
Miland put his pants on and looked at the old woman, he had never seen her before and wondered where she had come from. "Grandmother." he said.
"You seem to be greatly troubled, my son." The old woman inquired. "Perhaps, I can help you."
"No one can help me!" Miland exclaimed, and then lowered his head when he realized that he had snapped at her. "Forgive me, please? I did not mean to do that."
"He is your son!" The old woman mentioned. "Even with the spirit that he carries, your son is there too. The spirit that he carries simply fills in what your son was missing, but it is still him."
"How do you know about my son?" Miland asked. "Who are you?"
"I know many things!" She answered. "And, I told you that you can call me, Grandmother. Your son needs you! If you do not go to him, then he will die and something horrible will take his place."
Miland reached down and picked up his shirt, when he looked up again the old woman was gone. He searched the area for her, but could not find her. He began to wonder if he had been dreaming, and then he thought about what she had said.
Miland gathered his belongings and set out as the sun rose, he had made up his mind to return to his village and see for himself just what his son would be like. Deep down, he had to know if his wife had suffered in death for a reason or if she had died for nothing.
If the child were not his son, he would kill him, and avenge the death of his wife.
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