Samhain and the Wild Huntress

Things in Valerie's head were becoming clearer. The half remembered vision of Susanna jumped sharply in to focus. Now, the young girl on horseback was replaced by Gwyn, as they raced across a green landscape, laughter on their lips.

Valerie's doubts evaporated faster than morning dew. Finally, she knew where she belonged. She took hold of Gwyn's hand once more, the touch no longer cold, and offered another kiss to the spirit she was bound to.

As the kiss and embrace grew in passion and ferocity, the first glimpse of the dawns light touched the horizon, and Gwyn broke away. "We need to leave now. We have eternity to make up for lost time."

Hand in hand, Gwyn and Valerie walked out of the bar. Val waited patiently as Gwyn fired the engine of the motorcycle, then took the seat behind her, wrapping her arms around Gwyn's waist, and laying her cheek against her back. As the motorcycle pulled away, a content smile graced her lips, she was finally where she belonged.

***

Postscript.

All across the world, in every region and belief, there exists and entity we call Death, or the Reaper. A being that guides the parted souls to the lands of the dead.

In Greek mythology, amongst many others, Charon ferried the souls across the river Styx. The Native Americans have a being known as Muut, normally represented by an Owl. The Celts have Dullahan, a headless horseman, or driver of a horse and cart, usually piled with the bodies of the dead. The Welsh on the other hand have the Wild Hunt, and its leader Gwyn ap Nudd. When a soul departed they would join the Hunt and ride at the side of Gwyn for eternity. Traditionally, Gwyn is a male. But in the eyes of sexual equality, I couldn't see a reason why Gwyn couldn't be a woman for this story.