Quoted By:
<span class="mu-b">”Listen well, child. After ten years, your time is coming near. When the night comes, go into the fields and find a black lamb. Bring it into the yard and at midnight, build a fire. Chant these words: ποινὰς ἀντιφόνους ἄτας – until They are listening. Kill the lamb and yell as loud as you can while it bleeds out into the flames – Ερινυες Ερινυες Ερινυες – do not stop crying out until you see the signs. Tell them that your mother was killed by your father and eldest brother. The Curses will give you the vengeance that you will seek. Do you understand me, child? Nod if you understand.</span>
In the dream, you didn’t dare to look directly at the Golden Lady – you watched her from the corner of your eye, paralyzed in fear. But when she asked you if you understood, you nodded once.
The Golden Lady had held up a faintly-luminous hand, and a mote of light had drifted off her finger, drifting lazily through the air. The mote of light had landed upon your throat, and it was <span class="mu-i">warm</span>, and then it pressed against your skin and disappeared. The warmth had traveled from your throat to your core – to your guts, and spread out there. A pleasant feeling. You turned to peek at the Golden Lady, but she was already gone.
With the dream in your mind, you had done as the Golden Lady commanded, that night weeks ago – the black lamb had squirmed in your arms, but you didn’t think much of slitting its throat. When you began the chanting, your anger was true: you wished death upon your family, for killing Mama. You meant it, as you screamed the words that the Golden Lady taught you – and even more words burst forth raggedly from your throat, and most of them you didn’t understand. They came from the warmth in your gut; blasting out of your mouth like a dragon’s breath, like hot sunbeams.
The lamb’s blood sizzled on the fire, smoke and fog billowed and She answered:
<span class="mu-g">I hear you, child of φύσις…</span>
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That was weeks ago, and now a stranger is knocking on your door. You leap up from your seat in your empty house and you peer through the door-frame and see a thin woman, cloaked in black. She is unhooded, waiting patiently. Her face is drawn and pale – serious. You wait and she waits – but neither of you move. You open the door, and the woman does not smile. She says:
“Good evening, child. I have come to take you for your education; this house has nothing for you now. Your family is never coming back.” She says the words, and you know that she is telling the truth.
“You may call me Spathion. And your name is Belone, now. Do you understand?”
You don't say nothing. You just nod. Spathion smiles - all cruelty and no joy. She says:
"Good. You have already done so well, child - but you owe a great debt. I will feed you, teach you, shelter you. And will you serve my master until the end of your days."
You don't say nothing. You just nod.