EHYEH-ASHER-EHYEH (I AM THAT I AM): An Elena Duran/Corazon Negro
Vi Moreau (vmoreau@directvinternet.com)
Wed, 25 Sep 2002 13:00:03 -0400
Ehyeh-Asher-Ehyeh (I am that I am) 32.1/34
Julio Cesar divad72@prodigy.net.mx
Vi Moreau vmoreau@directvinternet.com
Duran Estancia
Everyone, especially Duncan, had met Gordon Powell's arrival with great
curiosity.
After all, this was the man who had been married to Elena for one and a half
centuries. Duncan wanted to dislike him, but even at first glance he was
taken by the slim, scholarly, honest look of the man. The fact that the
American Immortal had walked into a house full of potential enemies, most of
whom could easily kill him, with total aplomb, impressed the Highlander,
although ...
"He has no sword," Duncan whispered to Connor while Gordon was being
introduced around.
"Maybe he doesn't need it, laddie," Connor answered, smiling inscrutably.
"You'd think, married to Elena, he would need a weapon of some kind," Amanda
had contributed, sotto voce, to the conversation. She, Grace Chandler and
Ceirdwyn had arrived the night before and were to be one of Elena's
bridesmaids. Amanda had also immediately reclaimed Duncan MacLeod's
attentions.
After the introductions, the annulment papers were duly signed, and Elena
and Gordon retired to her study for a private conversation.
"You don't think he's boffing her, do you?" Amanda said into Duncan's ear as
she eyed the closed door.
"Ach, no!" Duncan replied, horrified, but Connor smiled evilly.
========
The night before the wedding, which would take place in the little chapel,
all the preparations were made, but Elena had to get away from her adorado
tormento, her beloved torment, for a while, so before dinner she, Aylon,
Ceirdwyn and Connor had gone out for a night ride.
Grace Chandler sat reading nearby while Duncan played chess with
Heru-sa-aset in the library, with Amanda kibitzing. Methos was slowly
consuming Elena's huge library, reading as he did constantly in the leather
chair on the terrace, overlooking the courtyard.
"What are you thinking?"
Methos looked up from his book, slowly, just to needle him a little,
although he was the most patient of them. Corazon Negro leaned against the
frame of the terrace door, arms folded, one ankle crossed over the other.
"Nothing in particular," Methos answered. "What about your wedding?"
"I'm not thinking about it."
"Wise," Methos said, smiling.
Corazon Negro sighed. He drew a little closer. He put his hands on the back
of the chair.
Knowing he wasn't sighing about his nuptials, Methos turned his head toward
him. "It was a foolish dream, wasn't it?" he asked. "It could never have
been realized, not even if humankind had proclaimed her the new Goddess and
obeyed every command."
"It was insanity," Corazon Negro answered. "Mortal men would have stopped
her; destroyed her; more quickly than she ever dreamed." There was a
silence. "The world would not have wanted her," he added. "That's what she
could never comprehend."
"Do you really think so? Do you really think humankind could have stopped
her?" Methos asked wishfully. Still he couldn't say her name.
"No," the Aztec stated after a while. "They could never have stopped her.
But I like to think they could."
"Maybe in the end she knew it, when she fought against Zarach, I mean. No
place for her in this world anymore; no way for her to have value and be the
thing she was. Maybe she knew it when she looked into your eyes inside the
Dream and saw the wall there, which she could never breach. Over the
millennia, she was so careful with her visitations to do her magic, to
implant her cult, choosing places as primitive and changeless as she was
herself. The present undid her."
Corazon Negro nodded. "As always, you know the answers to your own
questions."
Methos didn't say anything for a while, then he changed the subject to one
that still troubled him. "When is Cassandra arriving?" he asked suddenly.
The Aztec looked at his friend. "Tonight. Then all four of the bridesmaids,
Amanda, Cassandra, Grace Chandler and Ceirdwyn will be here."
"And I'm to be your best man. I am flattered, you know."
"Who better than you?"
Methos shook his head, then stood and moved away, slowly. He walked to the
edge of the courtyard and looked past the fence, out at the pampa.
Corazon Negro followed. The Aztec looked at him. There was always something
else on his mind. "May I ask you a question? Tell me..." Corazon Negro
started, and then he stopped.
"Did I love her?" Methos finished for him. "It that what you want to know?
Yes, I loved her. Just as I loved Kronos in another time."
"Tell me about Kronos," Corazon Negro asked. He knew about that particular
Immortal, but he wanted to know Methos' side of the story.
Methos realized with a shock that the time for the lies was over,
forever-and it was a strange feeling, but a great discovery too. "I found
him when he was a boy. After he became Immortal, we worked together, fought
together, lived together with his family. Then one day, there was a raid.
It was centuries before I discovered Mother had ordered the attack. She
wanted Kronos at her side, and above all, she wanted revenge against me.
Anyway, the slaves were killed, the children and wives taken. Just as Mother
had foreseen, Kronos wanted revenge, so we took it. Afterwards, we just kept
taking... just as she had planned. Years later, Caspian and Silas came. By
then, Kronos had researched into the Immortal legends and he was convinced
the one way for us to achieve proper power above the other Immortals was for
us to take the Quickening from the ancient ones. That meant we had to locate
one of the fabled ancient ones and take his head, thus gaining his powers.
Of course, Kronos chose Mother, so we went. Inside one of her caves...
inside the cavern, she created the Horsemen... and took control of my soul
once more..." Methos made a pause, sighed, and then continued. "Many years
later Zarach found Cassandra wandering in the desert-she had just escaped
from us, from me. Zarach, bless his heart, came to my rescue one more time,
so I left the Horsemen. Kronos didn't want me to go. We fought. I won, but
... I couldn't do it. I couldn't take his head. So I left." He stopped and
stared out to the black pampa. "Over the centuries, I hoped I would find
that he had changed, that the anger was gone..." He shook his head. "But
Mother never left him alone, so the anger never ended. The madness never
ceased."
"But you had to know Lilitu would come for you one day," Corazon Negro said
sadly.
"I tried not to think about it. I hoped someone would kill her someday."
Methos' sigh was deep, filling then emptying his chest. "Do you know what
it's like, not to carry that burden anymore?" he whispered. "To know now for
the first time that I am free?"
Corazon Negro didn't answer, but he could most certainly feel it.
Methos shook his head. Reflecting, he looked up at the stars. "What about
you, Dreamer? Are you free too? I wish I understood you."
"You do. You always have."
Methos smiled. "Live, grow stronger, fight another day. In the morning, it
will be my honor to be your best man, Son of the Wolf."
========
Two days later, the Ancient Gathering found itself standing in a group of
people, smiling, saying goodbye, and shaking hands. Many of the gauchos had
ridden in, waiting to say farewell-and most had brought their families.
Mapuche Indios from scattered homes and tiny hamlets that had been inhabited
for hundreds of years, all located within Elena's property, had come to see
them off, to see the strange guests of the Senorita. Also present were the
horse trainers, the stable boys and girls, the house staff, the farmers,
children and adults alike, waving adieu, wishing all of them good luck,
desiring them Godspeed.
Few mortals knew about their Immortality. Regardless, even the parish priest
from the nearby village of Veiloso, who had annulled Elena's marriage to one
man and married her to another, had come back and was saying a prayer over
them, making the sign of the cross. They drove out in Jeeps, flanked by
mortals on either side, and there would be more standing on the streets of
Veiloso to wave to them, although most of them didn't know why. Somehow the
word had gotten out; someway, deep in their souls the mortals knew. A great
evil had been vanished from the earth, and the strange characters leaving
the estancia had taken a heroic part in its destruction.
"See you soon," Corazon Negro said to Methos. "Don't lose your head."
"I won't," Methos said confidently and hugging Corazon Negro.
Then the Aztec hugged Connor, Duncan, Heru-sa-aset and Aylon, Grace
Chandler, Amanda, Ceirdwyn and left Elena to say her goodbyes.
"Adios," Elena whispered in Aylon' arms. "God be with you," she said.
"We will see each other again," Aylon promised, and then left as the others
approached Elena. One by one, they said goodbye.
Heru-sa-aset kissed her forehead. "I will be awaiting you in my fortress,
Elena. I still want you as my disciple."
"I'll be honored," Elena answered. "Thank God we have time for such things
now."
"Yes," he answered.
"Well, Elena," Connor said, "You did well... for once," he finished smiling.
"No small thanks to you. You are a great esgrimidor, Connor MacLeod, and a
good man."
"Ye think so?" he said in his Scottish burr, all seriousness now.
"Aye, lad," she answered. "Adios, che," she added, letting him know his
importance to her.
Duncan came. "It was a great adventure, wasn't it?" he asked, holding her
tight enough to make her ribs hurt. Amanda hovered but did nothing to
interfere.
"Take care, escoces," Elena replied. "I will always love you," she added,
thinking of Duncan's words. Indeed, it had been a great adventure, one that
tested men to their limits, but they had prevailed.
"If you ever need anything." Duncan said, holding her at arm's length.
"Make sure to come see us," Amanda finished, taking Duncan's arm
possessively and smiling brightly.
Cassandra was next. "I still won't teach you the Voice," she whispered.
"I don't want to learn it," Elena said, laughing. "I can't handle that much
power. It's too much of a curse; you're stronger than I am," she said, to
which the witch merely smiled enigmatically and moved away with the
MacLeods.
Elena had a special hug for Methos. "I will pray for your father every day,"
she promised, "and for you as well. When-not if, but when-he is well, let me
know, and we will come to him wherever he is to thank him properly. He's
like the soldier who throws himself on the live grenade, and he saved us
all."
"He did, didn't he?" Methos mused, his spirits obviously lifted by Elena's
contagious optimism.
When they were in the Jeeps, from the crowd came a woman who observed them
closely. She was mature and pretty, not older than forty. Her black hair
framed her face, and two condor feathers were tied in her hair on the left
side of her head. She was dressed in jeans, a multicolored shirt, and riding
boots, and wore a trariwe-the Mapuche type of women's belt-around her waist.
Her fingernails were long, witnesses to her power and authority. Any other
man looking at her would assume she was simply a pureblood native. But not
the Ancient Gathering, who knew her.
This woman was the Machi they had seen at the ceremony the night before, the
Mapuche priestess, physician, prophet, and seer who had blessed Corazon
Negro and Elena's union. The woman before them was the granddaughter of the
Machi killed by Lilitu more than twenty years ago, and the Machi's power
had, according to tradition, passed down to her.
"Josefina," Elena said, hugging the woman and happy she had come to say
goodbye. The night before, the priestess had told them about the dream she
had had: "I dreamed about the end of one story, and the beginning of
another. The darkness was met by the coming of great warriors. Old beliefs
clashed against new ones. The Ancient Gathering defeated the bringer of
death who opposed you all. The great evil, the dark one, the
Kalkuce-devil-terrible and deadly, is no more. Now Pillan Nuke Mapu-the
other-world-is in peace," Josefina had said.
Josefina paused looking intensely at them, then spoke in Mapuche. "Kom incin
kine mojfvngein, penigein, mapucegein-Now we are of one blood, we are
brothers because we are the people of the earth. Now the circle is
complete."
"It is," Heru-sa-aset said smiling at her.
"I will pray for your safe - and long -- journey," Josefina promised.
"And we will always be at your debt for that," Aylon answered as he raised
his hand and made the traditional pattern in the air in front of his face.
"As-salamu' alaina-may the peace go with you and with all servants of
Allah."
After that, the children ran alongside the Jeeps until they were out of
sight. Like a gypsy caravan, the Ancient Gathering left Elena's estancia, a
parade of shining heroes streaking through the pampa, and into the legend
one more time.
========