This sort of popped into my head when I was trying to find something to write about. This is what happens when you mix the need to write and tarot cards. I pulled The Tower card, found a meaning for it in a book and this is what happens. I wrote it in under an hour. It's short but it's sweet. Enjoy!
There had been a tornado that came through southern Ohio. It was a massive storm system that took the many lives of human, animal and plant kind a like. There was an abundance of souls lingering, walking and searching. Many an angel, spirit guids and others of such nature were helping those to cross over to the Otherside. This was a large job, too large for even the Christian God to handle. So he sent out a request to the other Pantheons, those willing to listen at least, to help bring souls to his Kingdom. But what he didn't understand was that other deities were already claiming the souls for their own.
Midnight came after the storm. At a secluded country crossroad an old woman stood wearing black robes and carrying a lantern that was emitting a lavish blue flame. She just stood there, looking and waiting, letting this ethereal beacon guide the wondering souls to her. She may have looked old, well into her eighties at this point, but her ever changing face, from old to young and back to old again, gave away who she truly was. Thise was Hecate, the crossroads goddess.
Her eyes, though ever changing, caught the barest flutter of black wings off in the distance. No mere raven or crow, she mused as it was nearing her. It was a wonder that Morrigan hadn't rode the storm winds when the tornadow passed through, laughing the entire way. Hecate watched the black as night bird circle over head before landing elegantly on the nearby sign post next to her.
"Lovely night, isn't it?" Hecate asked, changing to a fifty year old woman as she glanced at the twinkling stars that appeared through the milky grey night clouds.
The bird cawed loudly before jumping off the sign post. She morphed into a woman, a young, bare and with flowing black hair that went down to her rounded hips. She had blood red lips, full and kissable. Hecate heard stories of Morrigan's yearly meet ups with The Dagda, the Good God of the Celts. Morrigan embodied full sex in it's rawest form. Something Hecate didn't get to enjoy all too often, especially with her ever changing in age.
"A night for lost souls. Did you answer the Naemeless God's request?" Morrigan asked, looking at the black robed woman.
"I was here long before that brute decided to kill his -people. Even the Fates did not see this coming." She swept her free hand through the mass of destruction around them, at the shattered barns and fields they were standing amongst before looking at Morrigan. "Did you come to aid the souls in this disaster?"
"A few of my followers died in this rampage, one I was not a part of for once. I was fighting in Iraq when this happened. I've been looking for my three followers to take to Tir-nan-Og. But I think an angel stepped in and took them. Until I figure it out I'm taking some souls of my own." She smile ruefully.
"Is that wise?"
"I'll hold them in the Celtic Otherworld until I get my followers back. I bet The Nameless One took them so that he could convert them."
"Are most who find their way to us leave his teachings behind?"
Morrigan nodded, searching the whisps of winds the passed by, hoping to see a soul flying about. "I suppose. I mean look what they said about me in my guise as Morgan Le Fey, I slept with my half brother King Arthur. Man sure does take pride in belitting women and their roles in life."
Hecate was aware of how the Christians tried scaring the pagans when the Church came to power over the Known World. The Ancients, the gods of the ancient people, were cast as demons and evil beings who were out to eat children, test men's will against God and cast women as inferior, lesser than even cattle. But it took a select few to keep The Old Ways alive, the honoring of the different pantheons were still strong and growing stronger as the years and the turning of the wheel passed. As the CIrcle was coming back around, even the Nameless God and his son Jesus kept to themselves, allowing Man's Law of Freedom of Religion to rul human's wishes to pursue their own spiritual paths.
Yet it appeared that there was a mix up somewhere in all of this.
"You're a strong Goddess, Morrigan. Why not go ask The Nameless One or his son about this?" Hecate voiced her question.
"I highly doubt I would even gain entrance into the Castle on the Mount. Saint Peter would make sure of that. I'm too dark for their liking." The war goddess responded.
Night and death were what they had in common. Death of course. But Hecate knew they dealt with it differently. Hecate would wait at these crossroads with her lantern and allow the souls to come to her. Not Morrigan. Morrigan was on the hunt for the souls of her followers killed by a storm created by a faceless god that his followers feared. Hecate knew that Morrigan would start another war with that God and his host of angels, and she would be happy doing it.
"God won once over man. Do you think it's wise to go to war over a few misplaced souls?" Hecate asked as she changed to the face of a thirty year old woman. "I see a Tower falling if it comes to blows between you and that host."
"That God would rather others do his duties. King of Kinds, ha! I would bloody my hands to ensure that my people, my followers, fo to me in the end. No, he went too far this time, he took the lives of my followers. So I shall take the souls of his, for eternity or until he wishes to trade his for mine."
Morrigan opened her `arms, raising up before flying off into the night in her raven form, cawing furiously. That was the Banshee in her. That was her call that could chill even the coldest of human hearts. As a fiery Celt, there was no changing Morrigan's mind on the matter. Hecate was more patient, at ease with just waitinf for the souls to come to her.
It wasn't long until lost souls came to the now younger goddess. They had followed the etherreal blue flame of her lantern to this crossroads. They were lost, unsure of where to go. At least they trusted her enough to follow her flame.
"Come, I'll take you to where you need to go." She smiled warmly at the five souls before her. "This is the calm after the storm. You're safe now." She advised before opening the veil to the Otherside. "You can follow me."
Just before Hecate enter to the Otherside with the lost souls, she hear the cawing laughter of The Morrigan. Upon looking up, The Battle Crow was amongst a host of crows, herding three souls through the night to the east, towards The Emerald Isle. But of course the four Archangels were hot on the trail of Morrigan.
So much for the calm after the storm, Hecate mused before entering into the Otherside.
