Elisabeth Writing

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“You’ve never been here before, if I’m not mistaken?” Ourania turned to her with a strained smile, gesturing to the room before them. Room might have been the wrong room; for some reason the word “chamber” came to mind. The walls disappeared into the ceiling, which seemed to be covered in indigo and lavender clouds. A large pool dominated the space, made of the same white marble that the building was made of. Lotus blossoms and water lilies floated on the surface, and Iris watched them for a moment, caught in their beauty. She could imagine Ourania here, swimming in the dawn, humming to herself in contentment, surrounded by ageless beauty. Through another archway, Iris caught sight of a bed nearly as large as the room it was in but she looked away, the memories it evoked too painful. Her eyes followed the paintings all over the walls, the sculptures and the pottery, everything so clearly loved and admired and tended. What must it be like, Iris thought, to be surrounded by so much beauty all the time that it physically aches? She found herself wandering over to a painting of a woman caught between the sky and the sea, her fingers straining towards the heavens even as her toes tilted down, trying to bring her back to the waves. There was something otherworldly about the light in it, something magical and haunting, and she noticed that the woman’s mouth was open – screaming or singing or what? She wished she could ask. She gently traced the figure, the feeling of dried paint beneath her fingers familiar and soothing, somehow. If it were her in this painting? Right now? She’d be screaming. “Come here my dear, I’ve poured us some wine. Unless you’d rather have some jasmine tea?” Normally Iris would have gone for the tea, but today wasn’t the least bit normal. She turned from the painting and followed Ourania to a violet love seat and a golden table, its legs made to look like cresting waves.  A bottle of chilled wine in a bucket waited for them; another sign that this was clearly thought out beforehand. 

How long, she wanted to ask. How long did you know? Ourania blanched, as if she’d heard Iris’s thoughts. She lowered her eyes, fussing with the wine and the throw pillows until Iris took her hands and peered into her face. “Please just tell me. I need to know. I… Did he leave me because he didn’t love me anymore?” 

“No!” Ourania looked horrified. “Oh, no, no love, not nearly that, never. He loved you more than anything. I don’t know if he told you about where he came from and what he’d been through, but he’d been truly hurt. Abused by people who should have loved him. Abandoned. Hurt and hated. Finding you here gave him peace and happiness, which he’d never imagined he could find. Even when he came here he was always brooding, always looking out to sea as if he could see his future there and was only just waiting for it to come. And then… you did. He asked me how to ‘court you’ – did you know that?”

Iris felt like she’d been punched in the gut. She took the wine and threw it back. It was a waste of good wine, she thought distantly. It tasted like flowers and melons and something sweet which she couldn’t identify. “I didn’t know that.”

Ourania nodded, a soft smile on her face. “He did. I told him to give you time to settle in and then gifts, flowers, long walks, long looks. He was so impatient to start, but I knew you needed time to settle. And still,” she laughed lowly, “he was barely patient enough to wait a few weeks. Watching you two fall in love was one of the greatest pleasures of my life. He’s like a son to me, you know. And you were the daughter I always wanted.” 

“Where did he go? And how do I bring him back?”

Now it was Ourania who toyed with the wine before taking a large gulp. “It’s not going to be easy. I know you’ve been training with me for a few years now, and there are things I haven’t answered. I’ll try to, now. This isn’t ‘heaven’ which I assume you know, since you asked the first day you came here. To make it  simple, I’ll break it down thus: there is life, the in between, and the beyond. This is the between. You can think of it as a…” she struggled to find the words, her hands moving like birds, “a rest stop. One of many. Souls come here to rest before they either move on to the beyond, or reincarnate back on Earth. I am the guardian of this place.”

Her mind whirred with all the new information, and she slowly shook her head. “But if you’re the guardian, then you make the rules, right?”

Soft and somehow sad laughter greeted this question. “I make some rules. But there are some that have been here long before I was created, and which will be here long after. I cannot give someone back their life. I cannot extend someone’s stay here. I cannot grant you memories of what has happened here when you pass on. These are things that none of the guardians can interfere with, no matter how much it breaks our hearts. And it does. It does break my heart.” Ourania’s lips trembled and she put a hand to them and turned away. 

“Then I’ll have to go, too? Even though this is my home?” Her voice came out high and panicked, remembering the life she’d had before. The dark alleys, the neon lights of the bars, the addiction that ate at her until she was nothing but frightful and primal need. The thought of going back, of being drawn back into that sticky web, made her clutch her pitching stomach.

“No. You may stay. You’re training under me, and that is the only way someone may stay here. As long as they’re training, learning or working under one of the guardians, they may rest here and make this their home.” Ourania’s grey eyes were tender on her face, as if she knew the direction of her thoughts. Iris wanted nothing more than to wail and throw herself into those comforting arms. Except, she could read between the lines of what the woman before her was saying.

“But…?”

Jewels twinkled as Ourania shifted in her chair, pouring more wine. “But, if you stay here, you’ll have to wait for him. You aren’t permitted to go to earth unless you reincarnate. And if you do, you won’t remember him.”

“How long will I have to wait?” Her voice sounded desperate and weak even to her own ears. 

“I can’t say. It could be as little as 5 years or as many as 100. It depends on the life he lives, and where he goes, and what he becomes. And that is something even I don’t know.”

Iris bunched the fabric of her dress in her hands, remembering his doing the same. She couldn’t imagine waiting up to 100 years for him, but she also didn’t want him to die tragically young. She was stuck. She thought of the way he cupped her chin in his hands, the way his kisses could be sweet or aggressive, the way he devoured her food and lauded her as his own ‘kitchen goddess.’ What would this world be like without him? Who would fix up the leaky ceilings, teach the children how to sail and navigate by the stars, carve talismans with his clever fingers to give to the new arrivals? Who would love her, satisfy her, the way Wilder did? She knew the answer: no one. What she and Wilder had went beyond fairytales and earthbound rules. It was shattering, electrifying, awe inspiring and honest. It was home. He was home. “I… I don’t…” Words failed her. Ourania opened and closed her mouth, like she was fighting to not say something, but Iris noticed. “What? What is it?”

“There is another option. If you don’t want to wait. But it’s risky.” 

Iris felt hope soar within her heart, a caged bird set free. “Tell me.”

“You could go back, to earth. You could reincarnate, and try to find him. I could help, in small ways: making sure your paths will cross, giving him something that might spark some soul memory of him for you, sending dreams. But that’s the absolute limit of my interference, and even that’s pushing it.”

Her hope bird plummeted, crashing to the ground. Go back, to earth? To dim apartments and cunning men? To gangs and guns? To bombs and war? She didn’t realize she was shivering until Ourania’s arms came around her, enveloping her in warmth. “You don’t have to go. You can stay here. You’re safe.”

Safe, she thought, but so cold and so empty. It was a terrible choice. A horrific choice. But when she thought of Wilder’s blue eyes laughing up at her, it felt as if her chest were caving in. She needed him. And she knew, on some deep level, that he needed her too. What if he was waiting for her, even now? What if this time, he was the one in a cruel place? What if she could save him? Save them? “I have to go. I have to find him.” She said it before the words were even fully formed in her mind, as if her heart were speaking for her. Her soul shook in terror, but her heart murmured to her that yes, this was the right choice. The only choice. 

Iris pulled away and looked into Ourania’s eyes, which were full of sorrowful resignation and kindness. “Somehow, I knew you’d say that.”

She bit her lip. “What next? What do I need to do?”

The woman leaned back in her chair and looked at her steadily. “Nothing. I can send you back, now.”

She felt herself pale. “Now? As in, now? But I should pack up the cottage, and say goodbye, and…” 

Ourania shook her head. “No. If you choose this, you cannot say goodbye, you can’t tell anyone where you’re going or what you’re doing. I’ll tend to the cottage for you. It will be waiting for you, when you both come home.”

Iris quickly wiped away a tear, trying to smile. “Both, huh?”

The woman’s answering grin was quick and feline. “I know you, Iris. I believe you can do this. So, yes, the cottage will be here when both of you come home.” 

And that, more than anything, unleashed her. Iris fell into Ourania’s arms, crying into the white garment, forever staining it with despair and hope and salty tears. Ourania had been nothing less than a mother to her, the mother she’d always wished for and never had. She would miss the hours of instruction about magic, cooking, the art of love and war. She would miss her rose and caramel scent, the sound of her wind chime laughter, the tilt of her lips when Iris did something particularly pleasing to her. And she would miss this place: her home. The white marble and rosy buildings, the music of the ocean and the gulls, the autumn leaves and spring peonies, the friends that she’d made, the light in her own eyes. She had no idea what kind of life she’d have when she left, when she was born again, and she was terrified. But Wilder had always insisted that she was brave. She hadn’t believed him, but now she could feel the spark of determination in her chest, humming with knowledge. She could do this. She would do this. She didn’t know how long she wept in Ourania’s arms, but when she pulled away, she felt as if she’d been wrung out completely. Ourania was still holding her lightly, singing a lullaby in some language she didn’t know but which, somehow, still soothed her. Iris sat up and wiped beneath her eyes. “I’m sorry. It’s just so hard to say goodbye. I’ll miss you so much.”

Ourania swallowed hard, blinking quickly. “I’ll miss you, too, sweet girl. So much.” Before either of them could cry again, she poured the last of the wine into both of their glasses. “A toast to you, Iris. May you find your love in every lifetime.”

“And a toast to you, for bringing that love to me, and for bringing love to the whole world, too.” They clinked glasses and took a delicate sip. Iris meant to say more, but Ourania began to blur in front of her eyes. She put a hand to her head, feeling dizzy. Ourania was merely watching her, pride and anguish  warring on her face as she stood. Iris blinked up at her, the sun suddenly feeling too hot and too bright on her face.  “What… what’s happen…” 

“Goodbye, Iris. I’ll be waiting here for you. For you both,” she amended, and then she bent down and gently kissed Iris on the head.

And in a flash of white and red rose petals, Iris was gone.

Ourania fell back into her chair and covered her face with her hands as she sobbed. It never got easier, letting go. You’d think centuries and millennia of doing this, of saying goodbye, again and again, would harden her heart. But her heart was thudding in her chest, feeling like a bouquet stomped on by unfeeling combat boots, pulpy and tender. Heartbreak was a tangible thing. That was a lesson she’d learned as the guardian of this place. And there was something about Iris in particular that touched her, that crept into her and wound like ivy through her bones and blood. That ivy squeezed her chest, twisting and squeezing until she felt like she couldn’t breathe. She stumbled away from the table, away from the empty glasses of wine. She wanted nothing more than to shut the drapes and fall into bed, curling around her pillows and letting sleep claim her until she could be strong and sweet once more. At the moment she merely felt… old. Old, and brittle, like the slightest of breezes would shatter her. Ourania turned away, intending to descend into sleeping darkness, when her gaze collided with stormy grey eyes. She barely had the strength to sigh. “You couldn’t have waited just a few more hours?”

“No,” Wilder said slowly, “I couldn’t. I’m sorry. I didn’t realize that…”

“That it would hurt me, too? That sending her out there, after what she went through, wouldn’t break my own heart?” Her voice cracked but the man said nothing, did nothing; just watched her. She tore the tiara from her hair and threw it to the ground. She wished it would shatter, but it only made a loud clunk before it settled on the stones. Even without it, the weight of responsibility still remained on her slim shoulders, and at the moment she felt crushed by it. “Can’t you go away, just for a bit? Please… I’m so tired. I’m so, so tired.”

Wilder clenched his jaw, his hands tightening into fists in his pockets. “I need to go after her, now.” 

Her eyes flashed silver, and lighting streaked across the sky. He glanced towards it, warily, as she drew herself up. Her voice made the stones themselves tremble. “Oh do you? Right this instant? Would you truly order around your goddess?”

He held his hands up for peace. “I’d never order anyone around, let alone my goddess. But I would ask my friend for help.” 

And just like that, damn the man, her ire melted away. She breathed through her nose and turned towards the nearest curving arch, stepping towards it and leaning into the bleeding sunlight. She loved this land, so like the home of her birth. She loved the blue sea and the sound of laughter and the happiness of the people who lived there. Today, though, even the flight of a child chasing a bird through the white sand couldn’t make her smile. “You know the risks, and the rules?”

Wilder stepped up next to her. “She has to fall in love with me three times, in three different bodies. I can’t tell her about this place or about you or about who I really am. I’ll be human, with no powers. She won’t remember me.” 

Ourania closed her eyes, letting the wind blow away her angst. “And?”

His voice was a growl. “Every time will be harder. The last will be the hardest of all.”

“And you won’t remember her, either, until you kiss for the first time. You’ll only know that you have to make her fall in love with you, and you won’t understand why. And when she tells you she loves you, you will disappear until the next person she’s supposed to fall for is meant to appear. You’ll have an entire life and history and memories of being that person. You’ll  have friends and a family – although that family will be helpers, from here. Don’t expect help from them, though. They will never return if they give you any help beyond what’s permitted.”

“And if she falls in love with me all three times, then we become the new guardians of this place.”

She nodded listlessly. “Yes. You two will rule this place, take care of it and its people. But only if you can both complete this task.” 

“Why not just give it to her? To us? You know us, you know we will take care of this place and everyone in it. We love it here. We will take great care with it.”

She didn’t bother to look at him. They’d had this discussion more times than she could count. But still, she repeated the same words, to play it out to its inevitable conclusion. “You cannot take over this place without this test. It’s not done and can’t be done. To harness the magic, you must do this thing.” 

He cursed and paced, paced and cursed. Ourania let him. She was tired, too tired, to comfort both him and herself. Finally, he stopped. The silence went on so long that she peeled her eyes open, to find him watching her curiously. “What?”

He cocked his head. “What will happen to you? If – when – we return?”

Ourania looked over at him in surprise. “You’ve never asked that before.”

He shrugged, sheepish. “I had other things on my mind.”

She laughed, and felt lighter for it. “You would, of course.” And still, he waited for her answer. “I can’t tell you. But I’ll be fine, and happy.” And free, she thought, with a pang. 

“Do you promise?” Wilder asked solemnly, his mouth turned down. 

Ourania chuckled. “Promise. Well, now that you’ve interrupted me, I suppose I’ll just have to send you to our sweet girl.”

His eyes sparked with satisfaction, and some part of her yearned. He reminded her of falling in love for the first time, of that first dizzying fall that had forever changed her. And, she thought with a laugh, the many times she’d fallen after. Yes, they would be good guardians, her Iris and Wilder. She loved them both for who they were and who they could be. This test would be the last, the hardest, and the most important. But she knew they could do it. Not through foresight or conjuring or spells – she just knew, in her heart, that they could. That they would. 

And she always listened to her heart. 

Before Wilder could react, Ourania brushed a kiss along his cheek. “Goodbye, Wilder. Find my girl, and bring her home.” Wilder opened his mouth to say something, but he was fading into feathers and fog already. His eyes widened with alarm and she raised a hand in farewell. With her next breath, he was gone. 

Ariel stepped out of the shadows. “So, it’s done, is it?”

“It is.” Ourania confirmed. 

“Finally!” Ariel muttered and then, with a quick hand gesture, she morphed into the goddess Ourania had always known and loved. She was suddenly a willowy woman, her bronze skin dotted with darker freckles, and she watched Ourania through one black eye and one violet one. “Oh, that feels much better. I’ve felt cramped in that smaller body for much too long. I feel like I can finally breathe again.” Just for fun, she twirled around, and the sunset quickly morphed into a silver moonlit midnight. 

Ourania felt her heart, pulpy and pained, open and bloom. “You just had to have the night right now, didn’t you? I’m surrounded by impatient people today. Really, Luna, I thought you’d at least let me enjoy the sunset.” 

Luna (one of her many names) only shrugged. “I’ve missed my magic. And the moon. And you.” Her fingers stroked Ourania’s cheek. “Come to bed, love. This is all out of your hands now.”

“And into yours,” she murmured in agreement, and Luna nodded. “Will you keep them as safe as you can? I know I shouldn’t ask. I know this is their test. But…”

“But you love them,” Luna finished for her, and fresh tears sprang to her eyes. Luna only clicked her tongue and gathered her into slim, muscular arms, crooning endearments. 

“I don’t know why I’m like this. Why I care so much. Too much.” 

“Because that is who you are. And that is one of the many reasons I love you. Now, let’s get you into something more comfortable than this nonsense. I’ll make you some tea and sing you to sleep.” Ourania looked up in horror and Luna chortled. “I knew the thought of me singing would be enough to shake you out of this. Fine then, I won’t sing, but I will make you tea and tell you tales.”

Ourania sniffed. “Tales? What tales?”

Luna steered her towards the bedroom, whispering  softly. “A tale of two young lovers charged with an impossible task, and the goddesses who love them watching over them.” 

She yawned and rested her head on Luna’s shoulder, her eyes growing heavy. “Lovers… tasks… Will they make it, do you think?”

And Luna pressed a kiss to her hair, her grip tightening in reassurance.

But, Ourania noticed, she didn’t answer.

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©️ Elisabeth Heffernan