DANTE'S INITIATION

Eva.

Yea, you know it. The lady who everyone epitomized like the Virgin Mary. Dante and Virgil's mother, beautiful, elegant and sacrificial. Every boys fantasy of a mother. A woman strong enough to take on the most powerful demon turned good, Sparda. Now that demon is one that I've never gotten the pleasure to meet. But here she was, in the flesh and probably due to the turning back of time, in which these two brilliant wanna-be Newtonian silver haired boys were doing, managed to bring back Eva.

For the sake of me? Probably. But I'm sure part of the agenda was to see her again. Too bad she was a bit different when she entered my world.

Now remember, at this point, I haven't figured out anything. They were rambling on about how they were going to bring back my memory. I happen to have a memory! If they're talking about reincarnation well, those kinds of things turn me off. If you've ever been privy to the stories of past lives and such, many would normally claim they were Cleopatra of Egypt or the Queen of Sheeba. Thankfully, I'm not so daft as to squeal and delight myself in those ridiculous fantasies. Queen of Sheeba sounded like a bitch anyway, torturing men and what did Cleo do? If ever there was a woman who bedded for the sake of power, you got it. I should have been so unlucky.

I blurted out suddenly, "I don't believe in reincarnation!"

They all looked at in unison. The lovely, elegant blonde between them, possessing all the surprise in the world and with the swish of her light hair, nodded.

"I don't either, my dear." As if that confirmation was a way to bridge a communal friendship.

The man in the red suit had longish hair that didn't quite compare to his obvious twin. While the one in blue, brash, bold and possessing a bit of cold cruelty on his lips, had his silver hair slicked back. As if he spent hours looking into the mirror with his Loreal' products. They might as well be models for all I know. Maybe evil step daddy had a deal with the modeling agencies and hired these two in one of his advertising companies?

But looking at him now, he could have poised for a Greek god in a Botticelli painting, while the sun shafted off his white silver hair, which fell in almost shining curls to brush his broad shoulders. His features were set in an expression of sardonic expression. Very much like the Wuthering Heights dark hero, Heathcliff. But something tells me that he's no Heathcliff come to make Cathy suffer. And even in this instance, I was no Cathy. It was his clear blue eyes that swept briefly over us and though it could be the coldest, it was the warmest. The other one, he had cold eyes, like white fire in the middle of winter. Even their names, I think the one called Virgil was very Greek. And I think it means Staff-bearer or the one who suffers. Methinks I'd like to see how he bears his staff.

It was my evil step daddy that finally intervened. He was gracious and sputtering all kinds of nonsense and it is usually his way really. He was like that when he knew that rich people came a calling. He was certainly a man who treated his equals or those above him with more respect than his daughters. His servants were treated no more than dogs really. And the dogs lived in their own big dog house and yard. He was taking note of the way the Eva lady looked, but his eyes scanned over the twins. Who could not?

"I see you've met my daughters." He gushed falsely. The dolts, Patsy and Pran curtsied and giggled. I just shook my head and rolled my eyes. "They like to pretend that they're shepherd girls. Don't mind them. It's all Beatrice's little idea. Would you all like to come into the mansion? I do offer my hospitality."

"That would be fine." The one called Virgil, the suffering replied, then added, "I can tell you have a fine selection of whiskeys and wine?"

"Oh the best!" evil step daddy gushed out. It was making me sick to my stomach. If I could get away, I'd rush out to the fields and hide myself in the corner of the highest glen. Shall I tell you all how I old I am at this point?

17. That's right. And still a virgin too. If I had known about all those sexual romps I had made with both the twins in my former life I would be horrified. Already, blushes and jealousy aside, there's still that part of me that feels like a true virgin. Never been touched. Do you think this story is about losing my virginity? Sorry to disappoint you all. No. It's about losing something else though.

Dinner that evening was an interesting affair. With Eva acting as the hostess of the manor. Virgil was becoming annoyed with my two sisters. I heard him lean over to the other one, "Can we make them disappear?" His obvious twin made a half smile, his light blue eyes met mine and I looked away immediately. I didnt want them to think I was so bloody interested in them. My evil step daddy offered them to stay over and while he was delighted to have such beautiful company, the lady laughed, saying out loud, "Why not make it a fortnight?"

The affair was settled. A fortnight to get them to jog my memory back in place. And for what purpose? You'll see.

Later that night, in my bedroom I threw my dolls and my stupid party dresses. I was about to toss out my make up toiletries when my tears overwhelmed me. "Fuck him!" I cried. My anger was towards my evil step dad. Why? Because he's such an ass. He tells everyone that I like to play shepherd girl and I make his girls follow me. I could just die. He didnt have to humiliate me like that. Calming down, I picked up my mirror and stared at the girl there. She was pretty enough I suppose. Undoing my braids, letting my shining long bright hair fall, there were crinkles in them that were caused by the braids. Brushing them made me calm down and as I sat down at my vanity table, he was behind me. That guy. The one that haunted my thoughts.

"Do you want to know my name?"

I should have been startled but really, but wasn't. I continued to brush my hair. "Not really."

"You're thinking....what's in a name? Right?"

"No."

"You're a tough one in this life, Trish." he mused with silent deliberateness.

"And you're here to what? My daddy doesn't even know about your stupid quest about jarring my memory!"

"You mean your evil step daddy?"

Gasping, "You can read my mind too!?"

"A little." he confessed.

"That's violation!" I stood up. "Get out of my room!"

"We need you to come back to us, Trish. Normally I wouldn't bother because you seem so happy here. But we need you."

His voice pleaded and although my advancing steps took me close to his, the scent of him, sweet whiskey and honey, leather and all those nice things you smell from a man were all there.

"I'm a virgin." I blurted out.

He laughed. "So? Is there a reason why you tell me this?" Leisurely letting his body lay over my bed, he crossed his legs, his leather boots half off the edge. Mesmerized, I noted the contrast of his roughness to the soft pale satin sheets.

"I'm afraid." I confessed myself. Then with more courage, "If this other life you mentioned is about me and you, I dont want to know. I find myself very attached to this one and..." I paused. "I don't know you." biting my lips until the blood broke through, unable to complete my thought.

His voice was soft, "We could remedy that, couldn't we?" His lips were very close to mine. "Are you afraid? There was a time when you could never be afraid. All that can come true you know. Beauty is a dangerous gift for a girl like you, an innocent, but today is your lucky day."

"I thought so..." I said after a moment. Guys like you, well, they like to deflower virgins, don't they?"

You should have seen his face, really, it was in shock and he threw his head back, the sound of his masculine laugh giving me those goosebumps that I get when I've come out of a nice bath.

"That's right. You're a virgin here aren't you?" he mused, looking me up and down, "Not to worry, sweets, I won't deflower you as you so lightly put it. My interest is purely business."

For a moment I was disappointed. What did I expect? Some kind of forced entry with my willing consent? Oh man, desperate in the case of a prudent girl such as myself, blessed with some fair looks but not without admirers of her own. So why did these men, including the one with the dark brooding looks, yet loud and unassuming strike me as some kind of distant reminder?

"Do you think you can trust me, Trish?"

"Stop calling me that. I"m not Trish! I'm Beatrice." I demanded. Not wanting to be associated with a name that sounded like a tramp. I was dignified, but he didn't answer my heated response and took hold of my hand and with his other hand, covered mine eyes.

"Shhhh. It won't hurt..."

Those were the last words I heard until the feelings of being spiralled back into another dimension seem to overtake me.

Soon we emerged in this landscape in which the wind blew at 50 mph, curling my blond tresses into a rag tag mess. I began to see in front of me, front face and center and my guide, dressed in his impeccable red, bright crimson against the bluest skies ever. There, a stone that looked like one of the Easter Islands monuments, standing lone and forbidding beckoned me to search it's engraving. The words, which were in Greek:

"Time is a child--playing like a child--playing a board game--the kingdom of the child. This is Telesphoros, who roams through the dark regions of the cosmos and glows like a star out of the depths. He points the way to the gates of the sun and to the land of dreams."

"What do you think? Ring a bell, my sweet?" He came up behind me, set my blond hairs aside so that he could place a light kiss on my neck. I let my head loll over and he continued his light kisses, trailing down the now tingled arms to the tips of my fingers.

"They're some kind of riddle. I recall from some kind of alchemy passage. Is that it? Are you my guardian angel who has come to me in my dreams and taken me to this place?"

He gave a sigh and ran a hand through his silver hair. "Not really. Come. Let's go back."

And that was the end of that. What did I do? He was clearly disappointed. Did he think that reading a few words written across a huge stone would set my memory ajar? Not for this Cinderella. When a girl like me who has never known how to live like a human would ever want to go back to the life I had before? Never. So determined was I in my own world that I fear his kind would never take me back.