Epiphany set out on
a journey, walking down the sides of the cliffs, not exactly knowing where she was going, nor where she would end up.
This journey was to take her wherever the winds would carry her, listening to the voices that wafted on those chilled winds
that blew right through her. The night was setting in and the winds that blew came straight towards her.....pulling
her steadfastly closer to the sea. She came to a spot and sat for a while, pondering what her next move would be, and
it was there at the edge of the cliff that she had seen and heard what it was that brought her there to begin with.
In the blackest waves of
night, she could see those faces of all the people that she had before hurt in some way, some fashion. They were staring
at her, speaking to her in a very sorrowful voice. She could only stand there staring back at all those people, and
she knew straight away that her life was not which she had thought before. The sea was calling to her and her only thoughts
were to obey. There had been something missing from her life and it was there in those waves that she would find it.
No matter how much she tried to pull away from the cliffs edge, she was grounded, stayed in that spot and all parts of her
body froze and forced upon her the thoughts, the wills, the feelings, and the terror of those people that were trapped, as
souls, in waves that seemed blacker than normal. The faces shone through the darkness of those waves, making it known
to her that they were not able to move either. As those souls and her were ensnared, bound, watching and piercing each
others gazes, there was a sense of complete and absolute dread. This was a feeling that she nor they could shake.
She had only the opportunity to stop and look with her soul and see who it was that she had become. Not liking what
she has seen, she stands, with arms open wide, feeling that disparaging winds blow right through her, as she faces the sea
in deep contemplation.
The night was darker than
any other night she could remember in the past. Having always been a creature of the night, she couldn't help but notice
the small differences in it from all the other nights. The moon was new and so the moonlight was failing to shine as
it had all the other nights in this previous cycle, and there were no stars in the sky to convey light, so this made the night
seem more somber, even for this said creature. The clouds were dark, ominous masses of rippled liquid tar that only
sought to hover over Epiphany's head as she looked up to the heavens cursing the very one who made her this way. The
winds channeled the voices and the wintry cold that continued to weaken her will. Her thought's began to waiver and
she became rather discombobulated. The voices were almost more than she could endure, plaguing her with memories of
all the people's lives she had at one time crushed, beguiled, and mercilessly killed for her own pleasure and life's nurishment,
such a life as it is for an undead.
In all this contemplative
thought, came another thought, one of why she should be feeling this way. After all she had been this way for centuries,
and never once thought twice about the lives she had ruined, destroyed, and decimated. This was a new manner in which
to realize what her actions had achieved. Thoughts of Hell had come to mind as she sunk in despair. There was
no going back, and now she realised that she was in fact evil, to the core, and now she had the chance to remunerate herself.
So she took a step closer to the edge of the cliff and began to lean forward as if to fall prey to her own thoughts of ending
her life. She could lie there at the cliffs bottom waiting for the sun to rise, "That ought to do it," she thought to
From a distance, there was
a voice, one that seemed to be familiar to her. It was a voice of a love that she thought lost forever, and yet was
Lorne glided over to where
she was, wrapping his strong arms around her waist, from behind, pulling her closer to him. He edged her gently away.
With a gentle hand, he grabbed her shoulder and turned her around. He could see the pain, all the anguish that she was
going through, and so took his hand, while still holding her close, brushed lightly against her cheek with the back of his
hand. After a stroke of his hand, she could feel herself melting, having a tiny bit of relief. She couldn't look
him in the eye and so he pulled her head up so as to see into her eyes, as if to see something there his very own soul, for
centuries, had longed for. She began to weep, tears of blood. Lorne wiped the tears away and slowly moved in,
his lips meeting hers with a fierce passion long lost to both. The fire that was once there was only invigorated,
rekindled and completely recognizable. This was a small part of what she used to feel, and as he continued with his
long and deep kiss, all her thoughts were being moved, transferred to a passion for love and a life that she had missed with
every piece of that heart.
Lorne began running his
hands through her black and very thick, wavy hair. It was as dark as the night, with all the softness of rose petals.
With that, came a scent of sweet sandalwood that Lorne inhaled, smelling her, breathing every part of her into him.
Cupping the back of Epiphany's head, Lorne kept her fixed in that position, not letting her go. The kiss went on for
quite a while before Lorne finally pulled back, taking his hands and holding her face. As he gazed deeply into her eyes, he
spoke the only words that ever seemed to matter, "My love, my sweets, you have to know I never gave up searching for you.
This love, this passion that has burned so deep inside of me, never left me. It kept me going, kept me aflame, and wanting
nothing more than to bury myself in your soul. Now that I have found you, I shall never let you go."
Copyright ©2003 Heather Callaway