The night had set, and the outside obscurity leaked stealthily into the darkened room as clouds of smoke. Only some candles were lit, and the fire in the hearth. The curtains extended toward the ceiling, getting lost in the gathering shadows and created like a nomad’s tent where a couple stood. Nothing more dissimilar than these two people, and yet, something indistinguishable appeared to bond them. They were side by side before the fire, and while she twisted and twisted a goblet in her hands, the man gazed, hypnotized, into the woman’s face.
He shifted his eyes towards what the woman held in her beautiful beringed hands. The goblet was small, and roughly hewn out of wood, it appeared to be ancient. Carved signs glowed on its surface, signs the man could not understand, but that caused a shudder of fear ran through his body. And, though the goblet scared him, he felt an incomprehensible need to touch it, to hold it in his own hands. They had been thusly engaged for some minutes now, neither realizing the passage of time. Paul was the first to awaken from the enthrallment, shaking his head and passing his hands over his unruly hair.
“What is it?” He asked, in tremulous voice. “What is the goblet you hold with such pleasure?”
The woman lifted her huge dark eyes from the chalice and looked at him with a smile that made Paul’s skin prickle in fear. He had seen this woman in many shapes and moods; he had seen her appear excessively fat and disgusting, an opium smoker addict. He had seen her seductive and beautiful, sleek like a panther ready to pounce on its prey; this was different. He shivered and the woman’s smile deepened.
“This is what will show you the way, this is what will take you to them, to those you seek.” She said, with low guttural voice. “You came to me seeking help to find her, and this is going to help you.”
“How?” He croaked, his throat constricted in fear by what he thought he saw in her.
“You will see, you will see, my darling boy.” She replied. She turned her back to the fire and walked to the table behind them covered with the remains of the interrupted meal. In the center of the table a carved glass decanter held the golden wine Paul had been so eager to drink before
“Come, come here!” She ordered, in low voice, and Paul obeyed, as he had obeyed her since the ghost had brought him here, to this strange house lost in the mists of London.
“Only some time ago you wanted to taste my wine, darling Paul, but I prevented you.” She said. “I believe I should let you drink of it now.”
“Why now?” He said. “What is so special about the wine?”
“This wine has marvelous qualities, and it is not only because of its taste and aroma. I can drink it with impunity, but for you it would have a special effect.”
“What effect? Why can’t you ever say clearly what you mean?” He complained. “You are always talking with reticence and half-truths. You were certain I shouldn’t drink of it. Why should I drink it now?”
“Because the time we had to prepare you has come to an end. Because what we needed to prevent has already happened, and because when you drink of my wine from this cup, the universe will take you where you will.” She explained, and her face showed an expression of deepest satisfaction and victory; the face of a victorious demon.
His legs gave way, and he slumped in his recently emptied chair.
“Are you afraid, now?” She asked, with and insinuating voice. “Are you retracting from your decisions?”
“No!” He replied, coming to his senses. “No, I am not!”
“So then? Will you drink?” She insisted.
“I… Yes, I will drink.” He replied, inwardly convincing himself this was his true wish. “First, though, I want to know what the goblet is.” He continued. “Why does it have those strange symbols and why do they glow in that odd way?”
“Ah, you are curious about the goblet!” She exclaimed, laughing. “I will tell you what it is, and what the symbols are and represent. Then, will you drink?”
“Yes.” He nodded. He sat straight, his hands holding to the chair’s curved armrests.
She walked back to the chair she had been using, the one remaining standing after the turmoil caused by the thunder and sat. The darkness in the room grew, as she began speaking, talking about mysteries kept hidden for millennia. As she spoke, Paul felt how his heart constricted in his chest, while his limbs grew cold, with the coldness of death.
Paul had never been a believer, he had no faith, no religion. His own family had a faith of their own, where ancient Celtic rites mingled with Eastern believes, a creed that included all and none. He had read about the Catholic faith after his meeting with the ghost of his past, but he knew little about the history of this religion. He had barely touched the surface of a very deep, vast ocean; and he realized under that ocean, even greater mysteries lay hidden. He listened, overwhelmed by what the woman was saying.
The night passed, the candles burning to death, and still the woman spoke. When dawn began to lift the veil of darkness she stopped. The tale had been told and the secrets unfolded.
Lilith stood, taking the decanter in one hand while she held the cup in the other, she approached Paul. She offered him the goblet, and the man held it with trembling hands while Lilith poured the golden colored liquid. She poured and poured, and the chalice accepted it all, the signs engraved on it growing even redder and brighter. Finally, the wine stopped pouring from the ancient receptacle, leaving the cup full to the brims.
“Drink now!” She ordered. “Drink it all!”
He obeyed, at first shakily, and then with growing strength and decision. He was looking into the cup when he realized it was growing translucent, even the remaining wine was becoming invisible. Not only the cup, but his hands, too, had lost substance. He looked down, at his body, his legs; all was disappearing, and he raised his eyes to look at the woman who loomed over him, expressing a voiceless question.
“It is all right, Paul!” She said, and this time, he thought he sensed pity in her voice. “It is all right. You are passing from the here and now, to the time where she is. Good-bye, dear child. I have enjoyed our brief meeting!”
But Paul did not hear the last words, his ability to hear, to sense anything lost.
It could have been hours later, or even days, when Paul recovered the ability to feel. Blinded by a sun that shone on his face with the fury of the desert, he felt parched, his mouth dry, his lips even drier. He brought his hand to his face, to protect his eyes from the blinding sun, and gasped; it was almost skeletal, the bones and tendons showing. He looked at his arms, they were thin to the point of emaciation and bare.
He realized there were stones poking in his back and sat. Red and yellowish stones cluttered the ground around him, where insects he did not recognize conducted their usual businesses without minding him. He stared like hypnotized, his mind empty of any thought, to their incomprehensible movements.
Appalled at what he saw around him, he shuddered and stood, looking at his surroundings; there was nothing, only sand and rocks extended everywhere he looked. Paul wondered where he could be, what he was doing in the middle of what he felt sure was a desert. Then he remembered, he remembered all, and he gave a cry of agony and despair. Nothing of his previous life remained with him, no suit fashioned by elegant tailors, no golden watch, no silk shirt. He had never paid attention to what he wore, but now only some rags covered him, and he felt a pang of longing for the lost luxuries.
Had he been crazed? How could he have accepted such offer from the demonic woman? Perhaps she had put him under a spell. Was the love he felt for Sophia enough to justify this terrible sacrifice? He had left everything he knew and cared for, all he was used to have at the reach of his hand. His mother, who, though rarely at home, was always there if he needed her; his stepsister, his friends, all was lost. He would have cried, if he had had any water left in his body.
As his awareness of the present and of his body gradually returned, he felt insects crawling over his hands, his legs, his body, and shuddered. Was this how he was supposed to live from now on?
He shook himself, trying to dislodge the insects on his skin, and the few rags fell to the ground leaving him naked. He looked down, at the pieces of cloth he was going to be wearing and saw his own withered body. Nothing remained from his suppleness, all the muscles were gone, all the fat, the hipbones protruding like the arms of a chair. How long had he been there? Why had his body changed so much? Was it effect of the drink, or some other deeper magic used by the witch? Questions and questions, one after the other, in an unending chain.
He bent to gather the rags, shaking them with disgust from dirt and sand and vermin; they barely covered him. He would have to do something about this soon, he couldn’t go among people dressed, really undressed like this. Then, between his feet he saw a small leather pouch, almost hidden in the sand. He picked it up, realizing by the weight and the jingle it must be full of coins. He pulled at the strings and opened it. To his amazement, he saw the golden glitter of many coins, the pouch was full, and by the weight, it was a fortune.
He took one coin out, it was roughly hewn and bore the head of a strange man. He couldn’t understand the symbols carved on the coin, but he understood what he had in his hand. His stepfather had collected not only books, but also coins, and as a child he had often played with them. They were ‘aurei’, the golden coins of perhaps highest value during the Roman Empire rule and equivalent to one hundred ‘sestertii’.
Well, he thought, at least the witch sent something to provide for me in these times.
The word ‘times’, brought to him his recent studies about life at the beginning of the first century. In fact, during the time when he now was, life was not really important; none of the laws existing in his world to protect the individual and his property existed.
He looked at the sun, and then at his shade’s length; it was already afternoon in which case, he knew where he had to go, North. He believed he was near Jerusalem, so he needed to walk North, and he would reach the sea, the Mediterranean. There would be cities, people, and food and water.