Davius nodded.
He lowered himself to his knees before the altar, memories of past sacrifices surfacing, moments in time surrounded by the hum of nature. Anticipation gripped him as he wondered if he could still invoke his power as he once did so long ago, the happenings of his dream filling him with doubt.
He closed his eyes and inhaled, quieting his racing mind. He sharpened his ears to the muffled pleading of the gagged man, the trickling water fountains, the seasonal locusts singing outside the walls. He imagined the fields of Gaul, the lush and fragrant woods, the cool wet grass beneath his feet. He saw the stars painted across the sky, the shrill call of cicadas, moonbeams, and roasting fires. He saw the burning wickerman, its flames licking the sky, while Druid priests, cloaked in white, chanted in harmony with the circling crows, who cawed in anticipation of fresh carrion.
He was there.
Power reverberated in him more intensely than ever before, extending outwards, air rushing around them as if a tiny storm waged within the chamber. It threatened to extinguish the surrounding flames, but Lucius hurried to keep them lit with his own endowment of fire. The bath water churned, funneling into a massive whirlpool, ripping the flowers off their vines with its intensity, scattering the crow feathers across the room.
“The Morrigan!” Davius called out, the strength of his voice matching the raging wind. “I summon you upon this night. I hail you for your ferocity and beauty, she who destroys her enemies without mercy, come to your humble denizen!” He envisioned her magnificent violence through a child’s eyes, standing amongst a beach of shredded corpses, her black dress and raven hair billowing behind her. He recalled her voice, the brilliance of her crystal blue eyes. She smiled in his memory, as crows circled their mother in a perfect spiral dance.
Davius rose to his feet in a trance, calmly taking the cowering prisoner by the neck with one hand. He lifted him high, slicing his throat with the fingernails of the opposite hand. Blood poured from the wound profusely, splattering his altar and gathering in the cup and bowl. “For you, my love,” he whispered, tossing the draining corpse into the open mouth of the churning watery vortex.
Suddenly, the bathhouse was alive with hundreds of ravens that seemed to materialize out of nothingness, their sleek obsidian bodies a whirling tornado, blackening out the entire chamber in a flurry of feathers. Davius maintained his composure amongst the turbulence, silently focusing on the dark funnel the water created until it opened to reveal a silhouette that rose out of the swirling mere. The corvids circled in closer, conglomerating into the sinuous shape of a woman.
Then, in an instant, all was silent.
The upended objects which had joined the wind storm fell to the ground, the flowerless plants relaxed, and the pool lay still. Blossoms and feathers slowly drifted downwards from the torn open ceiling.
The Morrigan stood, in her maiden aspect, before them. She presented a stunning figure wrapped in a thin black dress, sharp collarbones exposed, thick waves of raven hair pouring down her shoulders and curling at her breasts. A delicate diadem of corvid bones lay across her forehead, the beak of a crow skull resting between a pair of brilliant azure eyes. Her bare arms were artfully sculpted and wrapped in silver bracelets, thin black tattoos interrupting her creamy alabaster skin. Her face was hard and narrow, high sculpted cheekbones softened only slightly by the radiant sparkle of her eyes and her long black lashes. Her lips were a moist blood red, pursed in annoyance as she spoke. “Yes?” she asked, impatiently.
Davius realized he had been staring rudely, completely transfixed by her image.
“Morrigan,” Lucius’s voice broke the silence to greet her, moving forward from his stance behind Davius. “Welcome, Dark Goddess.”
“You,” she startled upon recognition of him. “You accomplished what could not be.”
“I have,” he said proudly.
“What is this place?” She looked around her as the rain of feathers finally ceased, a few landing peacefully on the blanket of her hair.
“My home in Greece. The bathhouse, more specifically.” Lucius moved closer, keeping steady as his feet slid on the blood smeared marble.
Davius watched her gaze move away from Lucius and lock onto him, her eyes widening in similar astonishment. “And you.” A smile slid her swollen lips upwards. “I remember you.”
Her bewitching gaze disarmed him, the residual power from his sorcery still twitching throughout his body, his muscles in gentle spasm. “You look different than I remember,” he commented, wondering why he had never noticed her allure before.
She laughed, the pitch reminiscent of her beloved crows. “I can shift into many forms, sweet Daghda. I am certain some dormant part of you remembers.”
Davius blushed in spite of himself, still unable to peel his eyes away from her.
“Perhaps we should move somewhere more comfortable,” Lucius interrupted, blatantly eager to have her attention back on him.
“Why have you summoned me?” she ignored him, her eyes still fixed upon Davius. “Most do not call upon me unless it is to aid them in battle. There is no war here. I have traveled a long way at your command.”
Davius faltered only slightly before finding his words. “We need your help to exact revenge.”
“Wonderful,” she cooed with satisfaction, approaching him with careful footsteps. Her pale thighs flashed through the open slit of her wrapped dress, her feet bare, absorbing the carmine spillage from the floor.
He could smell her now, the raw scent of heated skin, the autumn woods, and the smoky embers of a dying fire. He felt as if he’d known her long before this lifetime, once kissed her earth-caked lips and caressed her narrow curves.
She reached out to touch his face, her hand warm against the coolness of his skin. “You are not human,” she observed.
Lucius interjected once more, visibly dismayed by their interaction. “He is my creation, an immortal human graced with the power of a god. He is like I am, my companion in this world.”
“Companion,” she echoed, finally tearing her eyes away from Davius, studying Lucius now with equal curiosity. “You have found a way for a god to become flesh, but still maintain our power. Impressive.”
Lucius beamed. “Well, there are a few stipulations, but yes, I have. Please, let us be freed from this chamber,” he urged. “Let us enjoy the night air.”
Morrigan acquiesced, and a raven that had been perched on one of the fountain statues swooped down to land on her shoulder, its intense black eyes affixed on them both.
Lucius led them out into the courtyard, the warm summer air trickling through the garden flora. The absent moon allowed the stars to sparkle brilliantly in the dark sky, freckling the ground with their glow. He gestured for them to sit on engraved stone benches, upholstered with patterned fabric stuffed with wool. A few revenants appeared, lighting the torches around them. One handed Lucius his signature goblet before bowing back into the shadows.
Davius noticed that Morrigan was translucent in the light, not the solid form he had originally understood her to be. He wondered how he had been able to smell her and feel her caress, as if she were physically standing before him.
Regardless of her solidity, she sat gracefully on the bench, her thin legs popping out of her skirt as she crossed them. Her delicate feet were still stained with crimson, and he suddenly found himself imagining the act of running his tongue along their slender arches, lapping up the remains. She smiled, noticing his gaze.
“Now to business,” Lucius declared, after taking a sip of his brimming cup. “Morrigan, my companion has called upon you to ask if you would aid us in exacting revenge against a man called Nirus. He resides in Rome, many miles away from here by sea. Currently, Rome is a treacherous place for us, so we humbly ask for your guidance regarding shape-shifting, as your abilities transcend any other god among us.”
She enjoyed the compliment, pondering his request. “Do you wish to travel as ravens?”
Lucius nodded. “If possible. We need to enter Rome unseen, end the human’s life, and leave hastily without arousing suspicion or causing any unneeded disturbance.”
She considered his words. “And what exactly are you now? Are you bound by human laws?”
“We are immortal blood drinkers, earthbound gods, if you will,” Lucius replied. “We can move with the speed of lightning and our strength exceeds that of ten men. Our only imperfections are that we cannot withstand sunlight and we must feed off the blood of living creatures to survive.”
“Fascinating.”
