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Disclaimer: As the author, I am well aware that there are going to be points throughout this novel which may have religious connotations for a wide variety of religions. I strongly ask that no one reading this piece take any offense to them as they are not meant to be offensive in any way and some of them do not represent what you may first think they do. Thank you!
“I invoke the protection of Divine Mother’s embrace. I invoke the protection of Divine Mother’s grace.”
“Hush up you filthy, Witch.”
“May the arms of the great Mother ever surround me. May the arms of the great Mother ever surround me.”
“I said to be quiet.”
The woman’s face was steely as the man’s palm slammed into it. “I invoke the protection of Divine Mother’s embrace.”
“You will pay for your crimes, Witch, and no amount of chanting is going to save you. You will pay for what you have done.”
“I invoke the protection of Divine Mother’s grace.”
The man’s voice was cold as he approached the woman he’d tied tightly to the tree. It was ironic, or at least appeared that way to him. For all that she loved these woods; she was going to die here. “This is your end, Witch. Prepare to meet your maker.”
“Divine Mother, take pity on this man for what he is about to do. Keep my soul with you as I pass from this world and into the next. You are forgiven, gentleman.”
The man’s faced twisted briefly, distorted by hate, fright and pity, but then he spit upon the ground before the young woman’s bare feet. “Tell that to your ‘Divine Mother’.”
The woman’s face was sad as she closed her eyes, a single tear rolling down her cheek – not for herself but for the man before her – and then she opened her eyes and murmured softly. “Peace be with you.” Then her eyes closed again.
The man gave a moment’s worth of hesitation but only a moment’s worth before he leaned forward and plunged the knife into the young woman’s stomach. Her lips parted briefly and he was shocked as she forced herself to speak. She was dying. He could tell by the slur in her words. “Pe-eac-c-ce be wit-t-th-th you, gentle-m-m-ma-man-n. Div-v-vine M-m-moth-th-er-r-r…”
His eyelids fell shut as he slid the blade from her flesh and sliced the ropes which bound her. The body, heavy with the weight of the dead, fell to the brush which covered the grounds, soundless. The man’s eyes flickered open when the expected thud did not come. At his feet was the graceful corpse of a beautiful, gentle woman; her eyes were the cold of death and her crimson blood stained the blouse she was wearing. His eyes glanced around hurriedly before mournfully dropping to his palms; he let the blade drop from his grasp and winced softly as an unseen force pricked the skin on his wrists and a small pool of his blood began to well up where it had been broken. He fell to his knees then and took up the blade, holding it to his chest.
After a period of silence, his voice broke the cool air. “Not this one, then…”
Author's Notes: Obviously this prologue is not supposed to be overwhelmed with content; it is supposed to sort of set the scene for the novel to come. Many of you will probably pick up on some of the more obvious religious references but, again, I'd like to direct you to my disclaimer. Read and review, please.
