BENE-HA-ELOHIM (THE CHILDREN OF GOD) An Elena Duran-Corazon Negro Story 15/15 by Julio Cesar divad72@prodigy.net.mx EPILOGUE After he rid himself of the three corpses, Myrddin studied the computer screen intently. The news of the day, as reported by a dozen secret intelligence networks, was all bad. It had grown progressively more so every hour since the morning. Myrddin suspected it was going to get even worse before it got better. If it did get better at all. Despite his grave features, he was actually a gentle soul who wanted only to be left alone with his spells and his computer while he pursued his great project. It was that endeavor, he was convinced, that had earned him the enmity of Lilitu in the past. Hopefully, it was the same project that would somehow enable the Ancient Gathering to defeat Lilitu's schemes. But Myrddin was a realist. He understood the desires and passions of the Immortals better than most of his kind. His work until now had been an unsuccessful one. Despite his great database, his encyclopedia was far from finished, even when it contained more information about the Immortals than any other single sourcebook from the Watchers in the world. Somehow, some way, its existence threatened Lilitu. Wearily, Myrddin called upon on his green monitor all the information he had been able to gather in the last hours. It wasn't much. None of his usual sources had provided any useful information. But one thing was sure: Lilitu labored for no cause other than her own. But where was she right now? Unconfirmed stories from the past centuries described Lilitu attacking Immortals in a dozen different locations all over the world. A common link in the accounts was her use of her Headless Children, unwary pawns of her plans. Myrddin muttered to himself in frustration. Some ancient Immortals, like himself, possessed certain strengths. If he could discover Lilitu's, then he would also know her vulnerabilities. He was convinced that this was the reason why Lilitu desired to destroy him and his encyclopedia. Lilitu was extremely powerful, but she was not indestructible. No Immortal was. With a hiss of annoyance, Myrddin switched to another topic. His fingers flew with amazing speed over the keyboard. Sooner or later, he would learn the secret Lilitu was trying so desperately to conceal. All he needed was time. Staring at the new information on his monitor, Myrddin wondered if perhaps time was more precious than he realized. Strange things were occurring across the globe. A great number of Immortals had disappeared suddenly all over the world. On the other hand, the Watchers and the Hunters were more active that in the past years. The evidence on the computer screen pointed to only one possible conclusion: this time, the Final Gathering was at hand. It was not a pleasant thought. Evidently, Lilitu had awakened in Australia. News reports from the past day described how the unexpected migration of thousands of Aborigines from the desert of the Northern territories to the city of Darwin had resulted in race riots that had killed hundreds. No one was certain why the natives had fled their homes at the base of the MacDonnell Mountains. However, one word was common to every explanation given by the Aborigines. That word was Lilitu. Myrddin groaned. Usually he was a peaceful, quiet sort, not a fighter. He loved fine art and great literature. The thought of battling Lilitu was unpleasant. Still, he was not without courage. A strict moralist, he had sworn five hundred years ago to be one of the Ancient Gathering against Lilitu when the time came. He believed in justice. And his justice was swift, efficient, and always deadly. There were one hundred pages of detailed reports on the day's events so far, gathered from all possible sources. Myrddin shook his head in disgust. He doubted that most of the material mattered. However, he couldn't chance missing an important fact buried amidst the details. A thousand years of research had taught him that often the most innocent statement covered a multitude of sins. It was his job to find the relevant passages before he reunited with the Ancient Gathering. He did not relish the task, but it had to be done. He knew well enough that without the cooperation of the other members of the Ancient Gathering, he stood no chance of defeating Lilitu. Locating them was more than a matter of satisfying his curiosity. For Myrddin, it had become a matter of survival. But where were they? Without warning, the computer keyboard sprang to life. Shocked, Myrddin lifted his hands off the console. The keys continued to type, as if being hit by invisible fingers. A single sentence appeared on the computer monitor. Staring at it, Myrddin shivered. Voice trembling, he read the message aloud. "This time, you are going to lose." THE END October 11- December 13, 2001 Mexico ======== A few final words: If you've read this far, maybe you would care to walk with me a few steps more. Ok? When we're dead and gone, how are we remembered? Only by what we leave behind. These stories will be my testament, my monument to you, Highlander fans, and to the greatness of imagination. Some 17 years ago, I saw Highlander for the very first time. Like so many others around the world, I'm sure, I walked out the movie theater knowing I had seen something that would forever change my concept of Immortality. For me, never before had such an ambitious, detailed, enjoyable, tragic-and romantic-tale been made. Highlander boiled down everything that was the essence of everlasting life for me, capturing the heart of a type of story I'd been reading since the time I could read, since the time I shined the flashlight at a book under my blanket long past the time I was supposed to be asleep. I don't remember exactly how many times I've have seen Highlander over the years, but I do remember waiting and waiting for Highlander II, just to be sadly disappointed. Then came Highlander III. A better one, I must say, but then again, with few connections between the first two movies. Then for years, I went hungry. Many years after the original movie, I read in some magazine that the producers of Highlander had signed to produce a TV series. Later, I watched and recorded all six seasons of it during six long years, and was pleased to see an ambitious and detailed story in the tradition of the first film rather than a mere fluffy adventure. In the meantime, I had established my own career as a clinical psychologist and a teacher, working in hospitals, universities and jails, and as an amateur archeologist and sociologist. About two years ago, my wife asked me, why don't you write your own stories about Highlander? After approximately a nanosecond of soul-searching consideration, I told her she was right, as usually women are. Back then, the time was right to do it. So I started. It was only later that I began to realize what a huge undertaking the project would be. I looked on the net, and found other writers who had written adventures in the Highlander universe. I must say most of them were great, even when each of their perspectives changed the characters and the situation in the overall saga. Of course, that isn't their failure. It's the natural result of one universe that is complex and vast, but mainly internally inconsistent: Connor is the last Immortal and he won the Prize. No, wait, he didn't and now he is dead! And Duncan killed him, at least according to Endgame! Things like that. Let's face it; in Highlander there is no canon anymore. Even when sometimes this is fun, the whole idea and concept are upside-down. Since my tales take place inside such a chaotic universe I got in touch with some of these great writers in the net to ask how they were going to wrap up their work, to know what sort of material I was going to leave aside. After getting those details, I went to work plotting one long storyline broken in different volumes: my Corazon Negro saga. Of course, maybe I shouldn't be telling you all this. Highlander fans don't want to hear what we writers are making up. But deep inside us, we writers want to think that the story of Highlander is a sweeping, coherent saga that fits tightly together. Well, rest assured that by the time you read this, my chronicles are part of a unified storyline, told in each of our distinctive voices from our own perspectives as writers. When you read any of the tales on the net, remember these are our interpretations. If Davis/Panzer ever makes films again, let's hope not, they will be their own creations, probably with no connection to anything we have written. But in the meantime, enjoy these stories, read the tales from Lori Wright, Vi Moreau, Celedon, Janeen Kelley Grohsmeyer, so many others and myself. And remember, Highlander is a big saga, and a small world after all. By the way, the Ancient Gathering's story is just beginning. Their saga will continue in HA SATAN. Until then, best in life for you, always. God bless and kisses. Julio Cesar