Demon Child Ch. 22

The old woman shrugged and tipped her head staring at the still sleeping foal. "Perhaps she does. Legend speaks of the goddess taking the form of a white mare. The birth of a perfectly white foal is very rare, once in a hundred years or more. It is seen as a potent omen, a heralding great things. In many ways I am not surprised that this miracle has come to pass in these times and in your presence. You are a catalyst, a key, a thread in the warp and weave of our lives."

The priestess lifted her eyes from the little filly and turned to Aylanna, her face serious. "But my friend I do not come to speak to the goddess, I come to speak to you. Last night I dreamed of my death. I feel my days drawing to a close. I came to ask you to come to the temple and to take my place as the voice of the goddess."

Aylanna blinked and shuddered at the words. The very echo of them shook through her and she reeled, shaking her head in denial. "I cannot. It is not my fate. There must be another, a priestess, someone trained in the ways of the temple, someone more devout."

"It is the role of the high priestess to find the one that is the closest to the goddess, to find her and name her successor. It is not a role earned through length of service or even devotion. As for the workings of the temple, the temple is a living breathing thing, it does not need a head, it needs a heart. I have never met anyone who hears the voice of the goddess more clearly or who has so many omens swirling about them."

"Has the goddess spoken to you, told you that I was to be the one?"

The high priestess fell silent and mutely shook her head and finally confessed. "You must be the one that tells me what the goddess says."

Aylanna felt a great sense of peace and calm suffuse her spirit. "Then I would tell you that the goddess has already spoken to me. She has found me and placed me at the side of the Aga Khan. It is my fate to stand behind and beside, to guide but not lead. I am not meant for the temple. This is my home."

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Jhardron was in his rooms when she returned. He held out his hand to her and when she took it he enfolded her into an embrace. Aylanna could smell the scent of another woman upon him. "You are truly a witch, my pretty demon. And I am not sure if all your magic is for the best. That girl nigh on ate me alive." But he had a relaxed, easy manner and his spirit seemed at peace.

Aylanna returned his embrace. Her words were muffled against his chest. "My Khan, the high priestess asked me to come to the temple, to take her place there."

His arms tightened and she felt a rush of fear and the stubborn anger. "And what was your answer?"

"I told her that the goddess had placed me at your side for a reason and that I was not going to question that reason, that this is my place, my home and I was not going to leave it ever."

The sudden relief in his heart was a rush of joy. He pulled her back and stared down into her face. "You will always be my goddess, pretty demon and you are correct, your place at my side. Together we will go far."

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Jhardron Aga Khan of the Bak Tai ruled for two generations and was the father of nearly a dozen sons. His reign was the longest period of prosperity and peace between the Bak houses recorded in the annals of the temple. The strange red haired demon witch that stood at his side outlived him for another generation. It was an age of mysteries and magic.

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Thank you for taking the time to read this story. Please take the time to rate it and if the spirit moves you, leave me some feedback. I have loved writing this story and am delighted to announce that it is finally finished.

I am between editors so if you find any errors; spelling, grammatical or mechanical... bear with me. I do my best but I really don't have an editor's eye for my own writing. If you find you cannot resist letting me know about my errors, be ready for me to respond to your criticism by asking you to help me edit.