EHYEH-ASHER-EHYEH (I AM THAT I AM): An Elena Duran/Corazon Negro
Vi Moreau (vmoreau@directvinternet.com)
Mon, 23 Sep 2002 23:30:03 -0400
Ehyeh-Asher-Ehyeh (I am that I am) 25/34
Julio Cesar divad72@prodigy.net.mx
Vi Moreau vmoreau@directvinternet.com
Inside the Dream, Corazon Negro flew up and down, his soul sealed inside the
timeless sea of the Dream. He felt himself placed inside an uncomfortable
and cold black mist. The fog whirled around him, becoming silver with the
light before him. Suddenly, the mist seemed to form the features of Lilitu.
"Who are you? What do you want?" she asked.
"I am Corazon Negro, of the Aztlantaca people. You know who I am and why I
am here. You put our world under fire. You are trying to be become a
Goddess, which you are not. I am here to cast you from the Dream."
"I am forever, I am the Eater of Souls," she menaced.
"Not anymore."
"You have no power. I am the power, I am the Quickening. I am the beginning
and the end. Do you think you can win? Come then! Come!" Lilitu's shape
hissed.
Corazon Negro was shot like a comet, forward, always forward. For a moment,
he saw himself in Elena's empty barn on the pampa, his body being lifted and
punished. "This is just happening inside the Dream!" he roared. "My body is
safe outside the Dream. Elena is protecting me, and the MacLeods. I trust
them. I must be strong for them, for the Ancient Gathering, for all of
us..."
The black tunnel narrowed in front of him, hurting his soul. For an instant,
the blackness was everything; the blackness was the cosmos, the universe of
his mind. "I know about your dreams... dreams of a flower... dreams of
love... and I know too about your nightmares... nightmares of an
earthquake... nightmares of death... I knew all about your nightmares as my
eternal night began..." Lilitu's voice said.
Concentrating. That was all he could do. Nothing more. Ignoring Lilitu's
voice. Resisting Lilitu's power. Praying. He must pray.
"Quetzalcohuatl, Tleica titechmocahuilli?-Feathered Snake, why hast thou
forsaken me?" Corazon Negro whispered in Nahuatl, echoing the eternal cry
for help.
Lilitu's laugh echoed like thunder. "Oh, are you praying? Well, I can pray
too, my child. Powerful prayers..."
Corazon Negro ignored her. "Quetzalcohuatl, tleicanahmo ximoyolnontzaz? A
icnapillot ma tumanihui manihuac titoteitl-Feathered Snake, why dost thou
not talk with my heart anymore? Give me thy compassion, I am at thy side."
"Can you feel my prayers? They are around you... the cold darkness, the
black curtain. You are in my hell... and know this for sure-in here, there
is no God... just me! You are just somebody's dream; somebody who is afraid
to wake up, because he knows that even he is a dream dreamed a long time ago
by someone else..."
An immense heat invaded Corazon Negro's soul while Lilitu's voice continued.
"You are no one, and I'm everyone... You are just a delusion... And you
don't want to wake up... not anymore. You know that, don't you? You thought
you were the Dreamer... you thought you were life... now you are lost...
while I am like a dulled stone knife..."
Something was shining above Corazon Negro, giving off a hot fire that burned
his skin... his head turned in that direction so he could see. Above him,
the burning blue-fire shone strongly, and he could feel the wet flames
touching his arms when he raised them. He touched the fire and there was
pain, an eternal friend... his only friend... his one and only remaining
friend.
"You are a disgrace to your people and to your lineage. You are no one's
Dreamer," Lilitu's voice sentenced. "Remember your orphan children? They are
here, with me... waiting for you... they died under my torments, and you
weren't able to stop me..."
Corazon Negro's doubts surfaced in his soul. His eyes filled with tears of
shame. For a moment, he was so dishonored than he hoped that this was his
true death. He wanted to know that he couldn't fall any further than he
already had. Please... no more.
Around him the blackness suddenly turned red, an intense bright that blinded
him with its blood color. Lilitu's voice sounded like a rage of thunder,
traveling back and forth, echoing all around him.
"You know there is no way back, and no way out. You could be the master, if
only you would chose to serve me; instead, now you are my slave. I am your
lover, light as a feather," she hissed. "No matter where you run, I will
find you. You won't hear me coming, or see me; oh, but you will feel me!
Without any sign, any warning, I will be beside you, on top of you..." Her
laugh was all around him. It was a chuckle encompassing eons of evil.
Lilitu's essence was finally near him, delighted by her efforts, by her
total success and his complete failure, and Corazon Negro was completely
wrapped up inside her demonic presence. Her evil made her perfect, without
morals or regrets, without conscience. Even the Dream around her was
contaminated by her touch. She was the source; she was the Prize.
Alone, vulnerable, Corazon Negro watched her coming toward him, surrounded
by the blackest darkness. She was inside him; she was the evil within his
own soul. A faultless organism, timeless. Since the beginning of time, she
had always been with him.
"Of course!" she yelled, reading his mind. "I am within you! I am all your
senses, I am your heartbeat... you are defenseless against me because I am a
part of you, the stronger part. You can run, you can retreat, but you cannot
escape what is inside you. I am the evil within all. And I am forever... I
am that I am!"
He looked at her. She was pale and red-haired, with wild emerald eyes,
animal eyes, shining like charcoals in a bonfire. Naked, revealing her wet
felinity between her legs. Moving toward him, around him, like a scorpion...
no... more like a snake... the snake of time, devouring her own tail with
pleasure... delighting in her evil... behind her, a couple of black shades
were moving alongside her, like a pair of wings. "Do you like what you see?
This is not an illusion, would-be Dreamer. Quetzalcohuatl and Zarach should
have taught you better. This is my everlasting night, and you are lost
inside it, lost forever. You will never find your way back to the light. Now
you are eternal, just like me,
condemned to wandering inside the darkness..."
But down in the depths was something more. Corazon Negro sensed it. A great
presence lunched forward, deep inside the darkness. A shape. A power.
"I trust you are not thinking of Quetzalcohuatl," Lilitu's voice said. "He
was so stupid. The Old Snake died long ago inside my nightmare, along with
Ahasuerus ,Darius, Nakano, Ramirez, Angelus, Yenkril, and so many others..."
"I don't believe you," he said.
"Do not worry, you will believe, trust me. You are mine, body and soul."
Corazon Negro felt Lilitu raised her voice, and then he perceived all the
extension of her fury. He focused himself.
"No, I am the Dreamer! I am the Dancer of Time! You have no power over me!"
he yelled, sure of his words. "The power of the Dream commands you to leave
at once!"
For a moment, Lilitu's shape disappeared. But suddenly, she was there once
more, looking on, chuckling with uncontrollable, pleased agitation. "You are
nothing!" She looked at him, and then repeated her offer. "This is your last
chance: join me now."
Corazon Negro stared at her shape, then at the blackness around her. This
was darkness-and it was the darkness he hated. Not even Lilitu. But the
darkness in her. And in himself.
The only way to destroy the darkness was to renounce it. For good and all.
He realized her urgings for him to join her meant she was vulnerable. She
was afraid of what he could do-why else try to destroy him so many times?
Yet she had failed every time-as she would fail now. He stood suddenly
erect, and made the decision for which he had spent his life preparing.
"Never! Never will I be like you! I am a Dreamer, as Quetzalcohuatl was
before me."
Lilitu's glee turned to a sullen rage. "Really? Maybe it is time to remind
you how painful your situation is."
Lilitu's shape nailed her eyes in Corazon Negro. Blinding black bolts of
power crusted from her eyeballs, shot across the environment like sorcerous
energy, and tore through the Dreamer's insides, looking for ground.
Corazon Negro concentrated. Making a maximum effort, he repelled the
darkness out of his being...
========
At the barn...
When Connor looked up, he saw Elena was sword fighting against an Immortal
man. Where was the woman? He wondered, and then saw her lying on the
ground-Elena had done her job after all. She didn't seem to be having too
much trouble with her opponent, either, a blond, slim, rather pale man. He
was fast, but clearly lacked Elena's skill.
She ran him through with a satisfied grunt, and he dropped his sword,
clutching at his chest in agony. After a moment he sank to his knees, unable
to stand. "No!" the Immortal called out called out, surprised. "You can't!"
"But I can," Elena said, holding the bloody tip of her blade inches from his
face. "Is it safe to behead him?" she asked Connor.
Connor was worried about the other Immortal reviving, but to his knowledge,
all their opposition was down. Normally he didn't kill mortals, but in this
case he had spared no one. Since Elena couldn't hear him, he nodded, then
rushed back toward the barn at a dead run. Even as he ran past her, Elena
had already decapitated her kneeling opponent. The power of the Quickening
was overwhelming, and threw Connor forward several meters, onto his knees.
But he quickly picked himself up and ran on, leaving Elena possibly at the
mercy of the old woman.
He had to get to Duncan and Corazon Negro. The fusillade of shots and the
shouts he'd heard from that direction had frozen Connor's blood, and as he
arrived at the old stone structure he saw the results. A group of Hunters
had obviously rushed toward the house from all directions. They hadn't
bothered with the door, crashing in through the windows instead. Two men
were shot dead outside and a third lay half inside a window, still alive,
moaning. Connor could see the Hunter symbol on that man's wrist, and it
fueled his anger toward Lilitu and her whole damned crew. Inside the barn
were two more Hunters. One was still breathing, and Connor, unwilling to
leave an enemy alive at his back, shot him three times then put in a new
clip as he went to the Immortals...
========
Duncan was lying in a pool of blood beside Corazon Negro. Duncan had been
shot several times in the back, probably as he tried to cover the Aztec with
his body, but he'd managed to bury his katana in the body of a woman,
another Hunter, who had died, sword in hand, and fallen on top of the
Aztec's legs. Connor roughly tossed her aside.
"Christ!" he said as he looked at Corazon Negro. The Aztec also had been
shot, in the chest, and blood was dripping down onto the body-glancing up,
Connor saw the man who had obviously shot the Aztec. The Hunter had climbed
onto the roof and used the hole they had cut out for the bonfire ritual,
shooting down at them. He lay partially in the hole, drooping down.
Dismissing that corpse, Connor examined Corazon Negro. There were five or
six bullet holes, and his breathing was labored. The Aztec was dying. They
had failed to protect him. Dammit!
"Elena!" Corazon Negro wheezed, his voice muffled by the mask over his face.
"Bring Elena!" he ground out.
Of course. The Aztec had told Connor that Elena might be able to help with
the Dream if he got hurt. He ran outside and called out, "Elena!" then
remembered she still probably had wax in her ears. Unhappy about leaving the
cabin because there was always the possibility that even one Hunter had
survived; he nevertheless plunged back into the trees, eager to bring Elena
to the Aztec before the man died.
But before he got too far he saw the Argentine running towards him. "That
Quickening was horrible," she said, shuddering, then asked, breathlessly,
"Corazon Negro?"
"He's been shot. He's dying and asking for you. Hurry! Go!"
"The Immortal woman is still alive!" Elena exclaimed as she ran off, and
Connor, cursing, rushed forward, pistol in hand. The two Immortals were
lying in a newly created clearing where several trees had fallen to the
lightning storm that was the Quickening. As he noticed that, the old lady
was just starting to sit up. She was old, perhaps near ninety, and could not
possibly fight with a sword; which was, of course, why she used the Voice.
She looked intelligent, and Connor could tell what a strikingly beautiful
woman she had been. He aimed his gun at her.
"Detineres-Stop!" she commanded, Her eyes blazed with hatred and intelligent
malevolence, and the power in her Voice made him shudder one more time; but
he didn't put the gun down, although he also didn't pull the trigger.
"You don't want to shoot me, child. It's not honorable. It's not what you
do," she said in such a calm, reasonable voice he was almost convinced.
Almost.
"You're right," he said. She didn't look armed, so he put his gun away and
drew his sword. "But you've left me no choice. Tell me who you are before I
kill you."
She'd been looking around and had noticed her dead comrade. "He'd been with
me many centuries. I'll miss him."
"You won't have a chance to miss him," he said, approaching her. He raged at
the thought of breaking the rules and having to decapitate an old woman,
essentially a helpless opponent.
"He was Gaius Germanicus."
"Gaius Germanicus?" Connor repeated. A Roman name. Ancient Rome. Trying to
recall his classical studies, he finally asked, startled, "Caligula?" The
mad Roman emperor!
The old woman smiled at his look of surprise. "I gave him that nickname
myself-he didn't like to be called that. He said it made him feel small,
weak. But he lasted quite a while, didn't he?" her eyes burned into his.
"Tell me, did the Argentine take him, or you?"
"It was Elena, and this conversation is over," Connor said. She was making
him nervous. The more he talked to this clever old woman, the less he wanted
to behead her. Even if he could control the effects of the Voice, she was
still somehow charming him, affecting him, keeping him from beheading her.
He moved closer to her, almost regretfully.
"The young are always in such a hurry," she said chidingly.
She sounded like a grandmother, or like his own mother. He really didn't
want to kill her.
"I thought you wanted to know who I was, child."
"I'm not your child," he said between clenched teeth. Dammit! Just do it,
MacLeod! He was only a few steps away.
She didn't flinch. "I am-was-Caesar's wife. The Empress Livia. Gaius'
great-grandmother," she said proudly, holding her head up proudly. "In Rome
I was a Goddess."
Connor was startled again. Livia?! According to the historian Robert Graves,
Livia had killed a dozen people, including her own husband, the Emperor
Augustus, in order to put her son Tiberius on the throne. She was a poisoner
and a murderess, the perfect person to follow Lilitu. Caligula and Livia!
Connor could image what kind of a creature Caligula had been, and why Elena
had shuddered at that Quickening. He was sure that Caligula's
great-grandmother would be just as bad, and he didn't want her Quickening
inside him. As he raised his katana she shot him four times with a small
caliber weapon she'd had hidden in the folds of her dress. Furious at
himself for underestimating her, he finished the arc of his sword, although
his chest burned, and he felt one bullet enter his left eye. Before he went
down he still managed to behead her. As he died, he heard the last
words she mouthed at him:
"Canis filiu-Son of a bitch!"
========
The bullets had plunged into Corazon Negro's chest. The Dreamer had doubled
over, then
crumbled to the ground, blood oozing from his wounds.
"NOOO!" Elena screamed when she entered the barn and saw both men she loved,
Duncan and Corazon Negro, had been hurt. But she knew Duncan would be
fine-the Dreamer, however, had to stay alive, had to be able to fight
Lilitu!
Corazon Negro made no sound, let no cry out.
Elena ran and she knelt over her lover, his face covered by the mask as he
lay curled fetally, hands trying to keep the blood in. Gently, Elena rolled
him onto his back, ripped open the jaguar's skin, to see the wounds...
The injures were not healing. They were deep, gushing red, obviously mortal.
What the hell-? He was Immortal!
"God, no," Elena said softly. "No, no, this isn't happening... this can't
happen..."
But it was, and she knew, and Corazon Negro knew. His eyes under the mask
knew. Frantically, Elena tried to cover the wounds with the shredded
jaguar's skin, holding on to it, applying some pressure.
Elena looked down into the mask and its weak eyes. "You are going to make
it, my love," she said keeping pressure on the wounds. "You're strong. You
hold on."
Corazon Negro shook his head-a small, terrible gesture.
Elena's mind whirled with desperation; the ritual had been interrupted.
Madre de Dios-Mother of God, what would happen now?
Corazon Negro was trying to speak. Touching his lips with two gentle
fingers, Elena said, "No... no, don't say anything. Save your strength. Soon
you will be all right-"
"Listen... Curi-Rayen," he whispered.
Swallowing, she held him, held him close, so close even death couldn't pry
them apart. "My love... what can I do? How can I help?"
His lips moved. He whispered, "You are the next Dreamer... you must go
inside the Dream..." He summoned enough strength to bestow her a smile, and
uttered, "I love you... wife..." Finally, his body relaxed in death.
Elena held him away from her, looking into the eyes of the mask, the sparkle
of life slowly fading away. He was still in her arms, and she held him
tight, hugged him tight, but it seemed death would win just the same.
Then Elena stood and looked at the mouth of the Dream, that black pit, that
darkest void still opened in front of her. Carefully, she removed
Quetzalcohuatl's mask from Corazon Negro's face and placed it in her own.
Next, she took the Maquahuitl. Then-jaw muscles tensing-she turned toward
the Dream, and strode forward.
She cut her own arm. Instantly, blood spilled above the bonfire. "I am
Curi-Rayen, daughter of the Mapuche People... I cannot be denied!" she
yelled toward the Dream's vortex.
========