Pure

“It is impossible,” I whispered solemnly to myself. “But it is,” came a voice as high and strong as the incarnation of He. My mother’s tender hand settled on my shoulder assuring me that life as the entire village knew it was about to drastically change. My eyes slowly followed hers and stayed there as if some invisible force had held them. “My dear Legna and my dear villagers, we are about to experience a force unnatural to us. A force that I know so clearly in my past,” my mother began. Her grace movements reflected on the footprints that were left behind. “What is it Great Mother? What horrific news do you bestow on us?” asked the Nephilim woman. The crowd began to whisper loudly again as my mother stood silent. Her mouth was drawn to a thin line as I noticed that she was contemplating the idea of telling the whole village. “I am troubled to declare that an Incubus is the one who slaughtered the little girl,” she said loudly as so that everybody in the crowd could hear but as she spoke the last part of the sentence her voice dimmed. The muffled whispers of fears had turned into loud cries of fear. I stared off into the crowd as my eyes led to the forbidden waterfall in which I always went to. I felt my gaze slowly wonder upwards to the peak of the tall trees which once, not too long ago, had been defined as comfort and security. “The Incubus village is far from here though, Great Mother. Why would one of them trample over countless of other villages filled with creatures unknown to us just to slaughter a poor girl?” asked one of the Watchers. “I fear that I am unaware of the reasons the Incubus did what he or she had done. We just need to know that the fate and punishment of that creature lies on the hands of Him,” my mother answered. At first I was unsure of the soft cries that came from the back of the crowd until a booming voice pushed the crowd away. A man with a short beard holding the hands of a shaking woman stumbled their way towards my mother and I. “We cannot let that creature get away with this!” growled the man. “It took our daughter,” sobbed the woman. My mother stared at them with compassionate eyes. I was still in shock about the whole situation. Why was it happening now? “They are right Great Mother. What if this happens again and they kill another of our children,” a Human man spoke as he put his arms in a protecting manner over his young son. More Human adults began to agree as they began to whisper. “It can also kill a Nephilim too. Incubuses are stronger,” the father of the dead child cried out. The Nephilims began to agree as well. “Dear villagers, I advice you all to remain calm. We cannot fill our heads with thoughts of revenge. It shall corrupt our peaceful nature,” warned my mother.
Events progressed the same the following days as the villager heeded my mother’s advice. The air wasn’t quite right as I awoke. There was a feeling of dread and frustration floating around the village as we began our daily routine. As the Humans and Nephilim worked, they whispered their own thoughts of why the tragedy had occurred. I could hear some Nephilim whisper that it was all a lie to teach a morality to us young adults. Once again their minds were to clean to see reality. The reasons I understood such tragedies and knew that they existed were for the fact that my mother told me stories about the disastrous events that occurred in the Old World. Murder was but a common event that occurred daily in the lives of Human before the New World. I never can piece together such situations as to really know how it feels to see that occurrences everyday nor do I attend to know. I do, though, understand more than anyone how they must have felt. How each person who had to see a loved one die before their very eyes for discrimination and Hate. Hate. A word and feeling that was prohibited in this village. Hate could be found here though. It was just hiding under a mask of purity.