Status: This is an experiment: a scene per day
A Tale of a Guardian
The Year of Our Lord 1692
A man sits on the edge of a lake watching town folks on the other side stare at the ducking-stool. Although the stool was dropped thirty minutes ago and the breath bubbles of the proclaimed witch are long gone, they gawk at the water as if searching for a miracle instead of damnation.
Two by two the villagers cross themselves and head back to the town. As the last two turn, the water in front of the man ripples. A woman with long brown hair emerges in a drenched nightgown and walks up beside him.
“I thought they would never leave.” She says plopping down next to the man. She looks at the ducking-stool and shakes her head.
“What do I owe this honor, brother?” She asks glancing at the man to her side.
“Do I need a reason to see my little sister?” He smirks. “Even if it is to see her die yet again.”
The witch nonchalantly gestures to the lake.
“It’s only water this time. Fire is when it really gets interesting.”
In spite of himself, the man laughs.
“Always doing it the hard way.”
The woman leans her head on the man’s shoulder, her sopping hair dripping on his shirt, and dramatically bats her eyelashes.
“Would you have me any other way, brother?”
He grins and shakes his head.
“No.”
The woman straightens and becomes serious.
“What are you really doing here?”
The man looks back to the lake refusing to look at her sister and sighs.
“Our dear sister is plotting again.”
The woman sags in disappointment.
“Of course, she does. Our dear sister’s thirst for power is unquenchable.”
She looks over at her brother, her brow dropping in scrutiny.
“Will you join her again?”
He shakes his head.
“I grew tired of her plots and schemes. For what? A little power for a short time at the price of blood and death.”
“But what is blood and death to an immortal?” She asks.
“A lot more than I thought it was a thousand years ago when you first asked that question.”
The woman slaps her brother’s knee.
“Time has brought you wisdom at last, brother.” Using it for leverage, she stands. “But what will you do with that wisdom?”
The man looks up with a plea in his eyes.
“Will you help me defeat her?” He asks.
“Oh brother, I have spent most of my life fighting or running away from our dear sister. Now I wish to be left alone.”
She shakes out her still wet nightgown.
“If only people would stop trying to drown me.”
She trudges through the sand away from her brother as he watches her go.
By the time Delilah enters her small cottage on the outskirts of the village, her nightgown and hair are already dry. With her immortal powers, she could have arrived earlier but after seeing Seth on the lake’s beach, she needed the time to think. Magdalene was at it again, and for once, she had refused to stop her. How many times could she save humanity? Save the very people who fear and crucify her for her unwanted talents. But she had for centuries. Fighting her sister with Seth as her lap dog. With Seth now by her side, she could definitely win for once and for all but she had no more fight in her.
Resolved with her decision, Delilah grabs a burlap sack in her small kitchen. Delicately, she removes her hanging herbs one by one, wraps each in cheesecloth and lays it in the sack.
Her clothes could always be replaced and did with the changing of the times, but her powers are in her plants and from the earth they sprout from so she would never leave them.
“You’re leaving?” Seth asks from the entrance.
Delilah sags before turning around.
“Of course, I’m leaving. The villagers just killed me, remember.” She snaps, not wanting to continue this visit from her persistent brother.
“About Mag…”
Delilah interrupts with the raise of her hand.
“I have given my answer.” She states staring into Seth’s eyes so he sees her seriousness.
She turns back to her herbs and grabs the last few with a little more force than she wants.
“Aren’t you tired of running?” Seth asks behind her back.
She turns and leans against the sink.
“No.I’m not. I’m tired of fighting. So I will not help you.”
“But together we could end her and the fighting forever.” He pleads. “It would just be us left.”
“And what of the consequences, Seth?” She wraps the last herb and places it on top of her sack. “The balance has already been tipped in the loss of Samson.”
With twine, she ties the sack elaborately making a braided strap and throws it over her shoulder.
“Before you start this fight, make sure your quest is for peace and not out of greed.”
Seth opens his mouth to protest but Delilah shakes her head.
“Power,like everything else, should be in moderation.” She pats her brother’s shoulder before walking past him to the door. “Take it from me.”
She leaves Seth standing in her small cottage and doesn’t look back.
Two by two the villagers cross themselves and head back to the town. As the last two turn, the water in front of the man ripples. A woman with long brown hair emerges in a drenched nightgown and walks up beside him.
“I thought they would never leave.” She says plopping down next to the man. She looks at the ducking-stool and shakes her head.
“What do I owe this honor, brother?” She asks glancing at the man to her side.
“Do I need a reason to see my little sister?” He smirks. “Even if it is to see her die yet again.”
The witch nonchalantly gestures to the lake.
“It’s only water this time. Fire is when it really gets interesting.”
In spite of himself, the man laughs.
“Always doing it the hard way.”
The woman leans her head on the man’s shoulder, her sopping hair dripping on his shirt, and dramatically bats her eyelashes.
“Would you have me any other way, brother?”
He grins and shakes his head.
“No.”
The woman straightens and becomes serious.
“What are you really doing here?”
The man looks back to the lake refusing to look at her sister and sighs.
“Our dear sister is plotting again.”
The woman sags in disappointment.
“Of course, she does. Our dear sister’s thirst for power is unquenchable.”
She looks over at her brother, her brow dropping in scrutiny.
“Will you join her again?”
He shakes his head.
“I grew tired of her plots and schemes. For what? A little power for a short time at the price of blood and death.”
“But what is blood and death to an immortal?” She asks.
“A lot more than I thought it was a thousand years ago when you first asked that question.”
The woman slaps her brother’s knee.
“Time has brought you wisdom at last, brother.” Using it for leverage, she stands. “But what will you do with that wisdom?”
The man looks up with a plea in his eyes.
“Will you help me defeat her?” He asks.
“Oh brother, I have spent most of my life fighting or running away from our dear sister. Now I wish to be left alone.”
She shakes out her still wet nightgown.
“If only people would stop trying to drown me.”
She trudges through the sand away from her brother as he watches her go.
By the time Delilah enters her small cottage on the outskirts of the village, her nightgown and hair are already dry. With her immortal powers, she could have arrived earlier but after seeing Seth on the lake’s beach, she needed the time to think. Magdalene was at it again, and for once, she had refused to stop her. How many times could she save humanity? Save the very people who fear and crucify her for her unwanted talents. But she had for centuries. Fighting her sister with Seth as her lap dog. With Seth now by her side, she could definitely win for once and for all but she had no more fight in her.
Resolved with her decision, Delilah grabs a burlap sack in her small kitchen. Delicately, she removes her hanging herbs one by one, wraps each in cheesecloth and lays it in the sack.
Her clothes could always be replaced and did with the changing of the times, but her powers are in her plants and from the earth they sprout from so she would never leave them.
“You’re leaving?” Seth asks from the entrance.
Delilah sags before turning around.
“Of course, I’m leaving. The villagers just killed me, remember.” She snaps, not wanting to continue this visit from her persistent brother.
“About Mag…”
Delilah interrupts with the raise of her hand.
“I have given my answer.” She states staring into Seth’s eyes so he sees her seriousness.
She turns back to her herbs and grabs the last few with a little more force than she wants.
“Aren’t you tired of running?” Seth asks behind her back.
She turns and leans against the sink.
“No.I’m not. I’m tired of fighting. So I will not help you.”
“But together we could end her and the fighting forever.” He pleads. “It would just be us left.”
“And what of the consequences, Seth?” She wraps the last herb and places it on top of her sack. “The balance has already been tipped in the loss of Samson.”
With twine, she ties the sack elaborately making a braided strap and throws it over her shoulder.
“Before you start this fight, make sure your quest is for peace and not out of greed.”
Seth opens his mouth to protest but Delilah shakes her head.
“Power,like everything else, should be in moderation.” She pats her brother’s shoulder before walking past him to the door. “Take it from me.”
She leaves Seth standing in her small cottage and doesn’t look back.
♠ ♠ ♠
For those of you who have stumbled onto my story, thank you for reading. I hope you enjoyed. But even if you didn't, please leave a comment. Any type of feedback is appreciated for this first timer. I plan on posting a scene per day to get myself on a schedule so more updates are to come. Thanks again.