The first thing my eyes landed on in this strange place were stairs. There were so many of them winding upwards in a glorious spiral, each step fanning out from the center core with extracting precision. From the bottom of the stairs, the steps seemed to disappear into ether; they seemed to have that never-ending effect. I jostled further, my poor legs barely able to carry on; there were no exits around; the only way forward was up; shivers tingled in my spine; my nerves fraying thin as paper as I walked on, dreading whatever was waiting for me at its pinnacle.
Almost on the brink of collapsing on the ground of its immaculate steps,my feet screeched to a half as I stood in front of a huge mahogany door. Taking a deep breath, I pulled lightly on the door knob. I must confess, I was not at all prepared for the view that greeted me. Inside, everything was made of translucent glass; not even the pack house was this magnificent. It looked like the typical fairy tale castle, which bothered me to an increasing extent because this was not a fairy tale and I for one was certainly no damsel in distress needing a fairy godmother's help, which brings me to the puzzling question of how I got here in the first place.
On an oversized bejeweled chair sat a lone figure. She looked crestfallen, and I began to wonder if she lived here all by herself. It must be sad, I thought. At first, I was unsure of my next course of action, but then, summoning courage, I called out to her.
"Hello," the woman's head snapped up, staring at me with an expression hard to read. She looked so boredly plain having a face you would literally forget in few seconds of meeting her but one thing did stand out though, her aura,an intangible current of power seemed to emanate within her,a force unmatched by even my own father who bore the weight of years and experience, and something tells me she was definitely not someone to be messed with.
"I knew you would come," she said, like she had been expecting me. For some so small she did have the voice of a foghorn.
"If it brought you here,it means the time is near, though I must say it's coming much sooner than I anticipated," she continued. I noticed the way she talked, making emphasis on the 'it.
What was she going on about?
"How did I get here?" I fumbled.
"You mean you don't know?" she stated, like it was supposed to be obvious.
"The Enigma Prism," she mentioned, was that supposed to mean something to me, but when I stared at her cluelessly, she sighed wearily, placing her hand on her head as if merely talking to me was giving her a headache.
"Your mother was supposed to give it to you when you came of age, but who knew the cruel fate that awaited her?" she whispered in the last part, but I was hung up on the first sentence.
"My mother, you knew my mother, I asked, delight dancing in my eyes.
"Not personally, but I heard she was a kind soul," she responded flatly.
"Oh," I mumbled, disappointed, but the next statement she made threw me off guard.
"The Enigma prism, where did you find it?"
"You mean the weird object with funny markings on it?" I asked, to which she rolled her eyes but nodded her head as confirmation.
"It was hidden in my mother's gravestone."
"As I expected,she must have made preparations in case she wasn't able to pass it on to you," she purred.
It took me a few minutes to understand what she was implying. Werewolves were sentimental creatures. As customary, we always made our will earlier on in life, and in the will we recorded things we would want buried in our graves. We might store it in containers or boxes like my mother did to ensure no one knew what it contained inside but knew to keep it in the grave honoring the deceased's last wishes. If a werewolf died, their secrets would be buried with them, trapped forever until forgotten. I had no doubt that whatever the enigma prism was, it had to be important to my mother, seeing the lengths she went through to ensure its safety, and I couldn't help asking.
"Whatever is this Enigma prism?"
"The Enigma Prism is an ancient stone infused with magical properties. In the hands of sacred ones, it creates a pathway leading you to fulfilling your destiny. One of its many abilities is teleportation, and seeing as you are here now, it must have brought you here for a reason, "she explained.
Magic the he thought of it both intrigued and terrified me, but my father and the high council had stated that magic was not real,completely nonexistent. A scoff sounded in the corner, followed by a humorless laugh. I hadn't realized I had spoken out loud.
"Was that what they told me?" she cooed.
"They lied to you, child. I assure you that magic is real; our very own existence depends on it. Magic is like a force dwelling within us, unseen and unheard, like a force of gravity pulling all things together."
"And why should I believe you?" I fired back.
"Then how else do you explain how you got yourself here? she retorted fiercely, and she did have a point, though; in fact, it was the only logical thing that made sense.
"But why lie?" I inquired.
"Fear, of course. The unpredictability of magic makes it dangerous, deadly even. How else do you think the forbidden black arts came to be?" I kept mute, waiting for her to continue.
"Magic became tainted the moment a few of your ancestors turned to the god from whom all evil stems."
"Apophis," I repeated, testing the name on my tongue.
"Apophis fed on the souls of the living and the dead, thriving on chaos and, most importantly, darkness. He was known as the god of death and destruction,hence the reason he was not worshiped, but those treacherous swine changed everything, giving birth to the rise of Apophis's power.".
Her outburst surprised me. Growing up, I had learned that there were only two goddesses: the sun goddess Solei until her demise, leaving only the moon goddess Selene, to whom we paid homage because she is the very reason for our existence. But right now, the revelation that there is a god has changed everything I was meant to believe. What was more shocking was the realization that magic is real, and the mere fact that the elders of the council and my father knew about all this but kept it all bottled up bothered me. I couldn't help but wonder what else they were hiding.
"The more worship Apophis received, the more powerful he became. He wanted to destroy the world, but there was one person stopping him, Solei, his archenemy.".
"The sun goddess," I gasped.
"Yes, Apophis had a certain vulnerability to light, sunlight in particular. He would try to cause solar eclipses, storms, and unexplained darkness, preventing the sun from rising. He and Solei would battle for days, but in the end, Solei always won.".
"You haven't yet said how the black arts came about," I interrupted.
"Quiet," she shushed. "I was just getting to that; now where was I?" she mused. "Ah, ha, the black arts," she said, clapping hands together like an excited child.
"Apophis found a way to transcribe his dark knowledge of terrifying and repugnant spells in an indestructible scroll,then he went on to leave the black arts on earth, a place so far from Solei's reach, to serve as a channel to exercise his influence in the realm. It said whoever reads the spells loses their minds, becoming a slave to it. I assume you know how the black arts work," she inquired.
"Of course, it was what turned Logan dark," I muttered, but she merely shook her head, saying,.
"Believe it or not, child Logan's heart was already corrupted; he coveted that which was not his to take; the black arts merely brought out that part of him which he had hidden, so well as you are aware, evil attracts evil; the black arts is a book of trickery only responding to the darkest desires of men; it was why it revealed itself to Logan in the first place, for it needs a vessel through which it could manifest it's most wicked deeds," she remarked.
"When Solei found out what Apophis had done a battle ensued and Apophis was defeated, Solei sealed him away in the catacombs putting him in an endless sleep for eternity,Solei however tried to get rid of the black arts but it was too late, Apophis knowing Solei might attempt to retrieve the black arts once she discovered what he has done,had in time made several copies of the black arts commanding his creations the deviants which he forged from the fiery pits of darkness, to distribute the black arts to every town,city and county side,in these way millions copies of the black arts were left on earth,some copies were retrieved but Aphosis had conjured a vanishing spell hiding the black arts in different locations, making it all the more difficult to find" she concluded
My head was spinning; there was a lot to take in. I didn't know what to make of everything she had just told me, so I asked instead.
"You mentioned a sacred one; what is that?" And at that, she chuckled.
"You have been destined for great things, Ramona; years before you were born, a prophecy was written about you."
"Me….." I squeaked, interrupting her once again.
"Yes, you, Ramona Tragon, are the sacred one; your fate has been written in stone, and there is nothing you can do to change it. Each course of action you take brings you a step closer to your fate. Remember, whatever happens is never coincidental; every chain of events is set in motion. The enigma prism will guide your every step to ensure that you fulfill your purpose. Honestly, at first I wondered why it brought you here, but I think it's for you to learn the truth of your heritage, and now whatever you decide to do with the truth, it's up to you," she averred.
"But I must warn you for what's to come. For sands of time whispers of the rise of the dark tide, men would bleed, blood would spill, and for each token sacrifice he would awaken. Now I am afraid you must go," she declared.
"Wait, who are you?"
"What is this place?"
"Why are you here?"
"Why did my mother have this enigma prism in her possession?" I fired questions after the other.
"Patience child, all this would make sense soon; the enigma prism would bring you to me again, and at that time I shall answer all your questions, but now you must go at once before you will be stuck here," she urged.
"But I don't know the..." And before I could complete my sentence, I found myself back at my mother's gravestone. With the enigma prism clutched in my palm, bringing it closer to my face, I scrutinized it carefully. I couldn't help but wonder what the symbol on its body meant. This was the only belonging I had of my mother. If she wanted me to have the enigma prism, then she must have had her reasons, especially after seeing what it could do. I gently placed it inside the music box, stuffing it in the pockets of my dress, and began retreating back into the pack house. Somehow, after what I just witnessed, I had the feeling that my life was about to change forever.